When I turned 25, I was sooooo old. That was before I went to Taiwan. I knew everything by then.
When I turned 26, I went hiking and ate “authentic” Italian food at Pizza Olmo in Sanjhih.
When I turned 27, I was the director of an English camp in Taiwan.
When I turned 28, I was a teacher in Hong Kong. I learned that love can be like a pile of laundry—and that that’s a good thing.
When I turned 29, the pope abdicated his “throne.” I visited friends in San Francisco. I realized I have 365 days to accomplish all of the goals I set out to accomplish before 30. And I remembered: Continue reading
It was dark. Suddenly, as I scurried about my apartment cleaning and folding laundry in shorts and a tee, I realized my blinds were open.
The view from my window.
I live on the first floor near the entrance of a busy apartment complex. Directly outside my bedroom window is a sidewalk lined by grass and trees. Across the street is a pool and fitness center. A nice location, for sure, but not when one considers a little thing called privacy.
Here in the West, privacy is held in high esteem. Close the blinds, Johnny! Someone might see! Even when I lived on the second floor of a large home on several acres—when a person would have had to climb a tree to see in my window—still, as soon as night fell, Close the blinds, Jess. Someone might see! Continue reading
The woman behind the counter smiled when I walked through the door. Her face was young; her dark hair, tinged with gray.
Crowds in Seoul (image credit: world-walk-about.com)
“You ah back from Taiwan?”
I nodded. “Yes. Actually, last year I was in Hong Kong.”
“Oh? Hong Kong?” She reached for the dry-clean-only garments in my hands and began to examine them as we talked. “Did you like?”
“Yes, I did; I liked it very much,” I said. “Except it was too crowded! There were soooo many people.”
She nodded, knowingly. “Like Seoul.” Continue reading