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Waiting and Waiting

March 1st. Now every day for the next two weeks will be agonizing torture. Have I been accepted? Have I been rejected? Will my career advance? Will I be right back where I was this time last year? I've been told to be patient, keep my head up, to not worry about things that aren't in my control. That's tough going, but I'm trying. How apt, then, that I'd come across this quote again: “I wanted you to see what real courage is...It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.” I thought my chances were small in the beginning, but I did see it through. Now back to waiting to see if this time is my "sometime."

An Hour Passes

I heard that once, during the Vietnam War, the American military planned a surprise attack against the Viet Cong. On the day of the attack, the precisely coordinated Americans got into position.  They lied in wait of the enemy. And then the lied some more. And some more. And then they started to wonder. The Vietnamese, it seemed, were mysteriously absent. However, the Vietnamese troops weren't absent at all. In fact, they had gotten wind of the Americans' plans and had instead...re-positioned themselves to catch the Americans by surprise! And that , according to my friends, is why Vietnamese people are always so late.

Lying on a Motorbike in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

Over my head, I see the pastel sky,  Asleep on the black pleather, Still like a sleeping horse in green shadow.  Down the alley between the thin houses,  The vendor's bell beckons Into the distances of the afternoon.  To my right, In the fingers of sunlight between the ancient birches,  The napkins of yesterday's lunch hour  Blaze up into golden leaves. I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.  A swiftlet floats over, looking for home. I have wasted my life.

As a language teacher, I have actually thought about this.

Luckily, I haven't induced any sudden states of somnolence in my students. ...yet.

The World is a Paper Menagerie

An immaculate sheet of paper, cut, folded, creased, crumpled, can become the most delicate of flowers and the lightest of cranes. The essence of its beauty, then, is that the paper is even greater for having endured its ruinous transformation. 

It's official!

"Within the first nine months of 2015, zero cases of corruption were found in this city!" "...but we're not saying that corruption doesn't exist, just that none of our inspectors caught anyone." Are you kidding me? Thank you for the freaking clarification, Ms. Nga.

...for Christmas

Take it away, Mr. Crosby!