Well...here it is...The new addition to my page that I've been thinking about adding for a long while, now. (Thanks to reading Tony's "Ramblings" page! :) ) This will be, in a way, a journal, a very loose way of expressing how I feel on a certain day, or what happened to me. For those friends that I don't see every day, this may be a way for you to check up on me. So here it is...I hope you enjoy it...Please click on the links below for past entries, or scroll down to read this week's entries. :)

It's been almost a year since the last time I wrote in this journal, and there's just too much that's happened between then and now to be able to write something to make up for it. Shame, considering that I learned a lot about myself, other people, and work in general. Perhaps I should keep it in the back of my mind as a sort of pet project, to bring back those feelings, but still facing forward.

End of 9/98-10/98~~~11/98~~~End of 11/98-12/98~~~Taiwan trip~~~End of 2/99

3/4/99-3/29/99~~~4/99~~~5/99~~~Summer '99~~~11/99-1/00~~~Spring/Summer 2000~~~4/01

10/8--12:49AM
     realizing what is possible, and impossible, with this. feeling strangely accepting of it.

10/2--6:30AM
     Now we will see if I have learned to let go. Once again on unsteady ground, terra to quicksand beneath my feet. I hope that my fistful of air is actually catching onto something higher.

9/21--Wiliamstown, MA
     Grounding myself.

9/20--S.F.
     The panic of being an anchorless boat on unknown waters. I seem close to coming undone, but take comfort and strength in knowing that some friendships, at least, remain unchanged. Guiding stars scattered, but no longer so afraid of the depths.

9/14
     Wounded pride is a weapon against yourself. I am cut at the roots.

9/11
     The terrible day. All TV screens showing one thing--it's impossible to escape the images and the sounds of disaster. So far removed on one end of this chunk of earth that I call my home country, and yet affected, because I am still a part of it. Four years of snowy winters, beautiful summers, and late-blooming springs on the East end of my country have turned six degrees into one. There is no separation. And I have traded one disaster for another.

9/1--America
     I arrive again on my own soil, and I am overwhelmed. Wide open spaces and quiet empty streets surprise me. Practicing kung fu in my driveway, familiar moves on strange ground. Angled. I step, body expecting the dirty paved floor of the park left behind. I stumble, my every sense of balance challenged.

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