Love

You ever stop and think about being human and get fuzzy inside? Between rushing from this place to that, bashing this politician and the next, when we aren't reading the paper or talking about steroids in sports--do you ever love yourself for being weak and ignorant and start to love other cause they are just like you?

Being away from home has made me love it all the more. I love my country. My State. My city. My friends. My family. I got a box from my mom today in the mail. She sent me some sweaters and some candy but on top she put a calender from my bank back home that came in the mail. Its just a junk mail calender with pictures of Bellingham in it. If I were at home I would have hucked it straight in the dumpster but here it's a piece of home. I showed my students the pictures and hung it on my classroom wall next to my desk. I kept looking over at it every five minutes. It is humbling being a foreigner.

It's humbling.

I love my home.

Valentines Day '08

I get an email this morning from my bank back home. The teller wants to know how to reach me. Her name is Samantha. We write back and forth all morning. This concerns my account, she writes. It's the closest thing to a conversation with a new woman I have had in months. I think about sending her chocolates for Valentines day.