What I Packed To Move Home

Ah, packing.  It’s always so much more fun in your imagination to pack than it is to actually do so.  If you’re like me, you have a hard time packing just once.  I’m pretty sure before I left for America, I packed at least four times.  I spent hours making sure everything fit, contemplating if I really needed two gray t-shirts, weighing the suitcases again, and then I’d finish it off by staring at my luggage hoping osmosis would occur and I’d feel fine with my packing job.  And it’s harder to pack things for a trip knowing you aren’t just traveling, you’re moving.  You aren’t sure when you’ll be back so everything has to make the trip across the Pacific with you.  (We all know shipping is expensive, nobody got money for that.)

Taking on Taiwan: A Change of Heart

Vividly, I can recall, the various mornings I’d rise early, go to my notebook, and sit by the window.  After about five or so minutes of staring out to the lake daydreaming, I would put my pen to the paper and write.  I couldn’t tell you how long I would write for, because I’d get lost in my fantasies.  Every time I write–even now–I forget all sense of time.  An hour or so later, I’d be ten pages deep into my scribbling and ranting.  Someone from my family would inform me it was time for breakfast and I’d leave my imaginary world, knowing I’d return to it shortly.  That, then and even now, is one of my favorite times in the day: writing time.

Why I Went Vegan (Again)

Way back when at the age of twenty-one, I was seeing a girl who was deep into veganism.  It was, honestly, the first time I had seen or heard anything about it.  And I was intrigued by the idea.  At the time, I was a little oblivious and ignorant to my own needs.  I thought I was healthy and continually found myself in a pattern.  I’d lose weight, get real close to where I wanted to be, and then I’d falter back, ending up right back where I started.  I was unhappy, not healthy, and I needed a change.