“I do this partly because it makes me feel better than other people.”

Damn. I envy that kind of self assurance. It’s beautiful and sparkly and intense. I think that is one of the gifts I give the people I love. I am rock solid in my belief that I can bestow specialness on other people but I can’t seem to do it for myself.

I spent the plane ride from Kuala Lumpur to Manila having a wonderful conversation with a Pakistani man. We talked about our kids and travel and religion and why people retreat into hate. He had some judgements I don’t share and I argued with him strenuously but with love. For example, he somehow had the impression that the average Mexican is violent and dangerous! Au contraire! No! Yes there are some people who happen to be Mexican who are violent but in general they are a peaceful and loving people. He said he was afraid to go there. I told him it is peaceful and friendly and he should give it a shot.

In turn he told me I should come to Pakistan where no one will think or say that I have too many children; everyone around me will know that children are a blessing and I am lucky to have them. He was astonished that anyone could think three kids are too many. He has seven and he hopes for more. I play acted horror and said “Oh I couldn’t handle the laundry.” I was glad it made him laugh because I was shooting for funny.

We talked a lot about politics and hate and religion. I said I was overwhelmed by how friendly and wonderful Malaysia was because I expected to be disliked. He stressed that Muslim people will welcome me everywhere. We talked about the fact that there are evil, violent people in every country and it is terrible when they take over as Trump has.

He listed a bunch of countries that he thinks we should visit. Then a bunch of neat grandmothers asked how long we were staying in Manila and they were bummed we were just connecting through. They asked when we are coming back and I said “invite my husband to a conference!” So they asked what he does and wrote down his contact information and said they would get on it.

Every assumption I had about Asia was wrong. I want to come back and find out more about how wrong I am.

I don’t want to go home. I am not sure I have ever felt so strongly that California is not where I want to be. I really do bring my home with me when I bring these people.

Going through the Manila airport was awful and it was 100% the fault of the US and the fucking TSA. We had to go through layers of extra security and not have easy access to food or drinks or restrooms. I mean, we could go get those things but we had to be searched over and over. It is dehumanizing and pointless and stupid.

“Humility is stupid. Stop that.” I don’t have a simple explanation for my life and I feel insecure about it. That’s why I feel awkward when someone with a job title asks me if all I do is take care of my children. I don’t perceive value in most of what I do.

My life is small and selfish and I feel kinda like a narcissist because I mostly write about myself. And my kids are asking me to write about them less. Fudge.

I garden and make art. I feel useless. Soon I will leave behind the evidence of the last ten years.

What do I do? A lot of laundry.

Just post.