Hi Jack...

Okay, I'm a slacker writer. Now that I've confessed, this particular blog is for Jack. Blogging is not writing practice. It does not go deep or go quick. It is too easy to delete and edit and patch over the ugly imperfections of my thoughts and actions. It's too easy to spend five minutes fretting over a word and in the end still hating the word you chose.

So without backing up or fixing my typing mistakes here is five minutes of going deep while typing: I'm not sure I like my lifew right now. I feel like some sort of exotic lollipop that stays in a candy shop waiting for someone to buy her. I'm sure there is something freudian in that. The image of meing licked and all that. I 'm just so frustrated and i can't even begin to put into sords all of my frustrations. My husband's work hours, my gaijinity my becoming the local ambassador for all things foreihn in this city. The fact that I like the attention of being different but I hate all the kids at my sons preschool who yell at me to speak english to them like some kind of trained monkey. I 'm also worried that Tak is becoming more attached to grandma than me. On tht eother hand, i'm worried that this doesn't bother me all that much which mieans that I'm a bad mother? I really do want someone to tell me what i'm supposed to be when I grow up and it's already 2008. Whree the hell did 2000- 2007 go? I'm turning 40 this month and i have nothing to show for it. Times' up.

Thanks Jack for all the encouragement. It means a lot.