Monday, July 18, 2005

On the nights that I have my French lesson I always want to come home and write to you in French. I don't, because as has become abundantly clear the last few weeks, my sentence construction skills suck.
The question I've been getting a lot lately is, "Wait, why are you learning French when you're going to China?" And I guess that this is what I deserve for telling everyone and their brother that I'm going to China, but honestly folks, I'll only be there for nine days. I'm not moving to China. And who says I have to know the language in the places I visit, anyway?

I have done something, in the last few days, that has seriously messed up my left knee. As a result I've been limping around town, cursing and scowling at the ground.
All coarser suggestions for the reason why have been considered and discarded. There's been none of that happening around here, these days.

Please, cross your fingers that someone wants to take my stupid car off my hands.

Also! Before I forget one more time! Craig is officially in business for himself, so if you're in Texas and need photos taken, I recommend him. He's so talented, cuter than your average button, and inadvertently responsible for the fact that I know most of the people that I know in Seattle. And he has almost no accent.

So anyway, a while ago someone got mad at me and called me naive. I deserved it--I'd been behaving abominably--but really, what's so wrong with that? Experiencing the world as a naif is my circle of stones. I can't go into situations believing that I already know the outcome, that I've been there and seen what happens, because then what's the point of having experiences at all? I might as well stay at home and do the same puzzle over and over again.
The trouble here is that I have no idea how to take criticism or, I suppose, how to let it go.

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