Forget the BFF necklaces, just buy me a slice of pizza and give me the strongest hug you can muster.

My last trip to Boston was rather bittersweet. I was so happy to see people before I make my long journey back to Czech. I didn’t see too many people. I am not a person who has a large group of friends. I just have a small group of really good friends that I'm sad to leave yet again. I’ve never really had friends I with whom I was close until college when I met Chelsea. We kind of just fit as family. It was so hard for me when she fractured her ankle and had to move back in with her parents. I didn’t really have anyone I felt I could talk to about everything. When I started working at the café, I met Anisha and Mladen. While the café was far from my favorite job (only because the owner was a ridiculous tyrant) I have no regrets about that job. I would never have met these two individuals and probably would never have received inspiration to travel or teach. When it comes to Anisha, the reason I love being her friend is because we can talk about anything under the sun without judgment. She’s does her best to be honest with herself and really takes in all life lessons to try to become better as a person. Mladen is a jokester (as am I) and I'm not sure why I feel connected to him and can confide in him. He kind of reminds me of my dad in relation to his thoughts and views on family, his sense of humor, and inner child. I really respect these two individuals. 

I was talking to Anisha about my choice of friends in the past and why they never really stuck. I think it’s pretty simple, those people didn’t have a lot of respect for me and I didn’t have much respect for myself. I know that pretty sounds condescending and I don’t mean that those people were bad but when I was younger I was so desperate for a friend that I didn’t really think about what the basis of a good friendship should be. The similar interests were there but there was still a lack of connection and respect. I guess you’re not expected to figure these things out until you’ve experienced the world a bit. I really mean it when I say I don’t regret most things even though a good chunk of my life has been a far cry from ideal. I wouldn’t know what I know now if I didn’t go through these experiences and increasingly I really like who I am turning out to be. I know a lot of people say "I wish I knew then what I know now" or "I wish I could meet younger me so I could share my wisdom." I don't really like these sayings or ideas. What I mean is that my parents told me all these life lessons when I was younger. Does that mean I really truly listened and let those life lessons reflect in my life choices? No. I still went out and made mistakes so I don’t really think another adult telling me what to do would have mattered. I needed to learn the hard way and I think that everyone needs the figurative knocking to the ground so that these lessons and humility really stick. Making the world better starts with making yourself better.

I won’t see Anisha for a while which makes me really sad but I am excited to visit Mladen in Serbia. He said I can hang out with his aunt and grandma on their plum farm. :)

I'm leaving for Czech in a week so I'm crossing off the last things on my to-do list. One of those things was to go to the New England Aquarium. While looking at the tanks I was thinking two things: 1) Coooollll and 2) I want to eat you. But I spotted this guy all by his lonesome in his own tank. I snapped a picture and shared it with a few people but Mladen’s response takes the cake. So I am happy to introduce “Ocean Sheitan.”

Is that sweat or the stench of freedom?

I'm aware I'm a walking advertisement for Boston. Everyone whom I talk to, I brag about Boston's beauty and relaxed nature. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea but if I were to ever settle in a city in the U.S., Boston would be among my top choices. I'm so glad I was up here for the Independence Day surrounded by friends who bring so much joy to my life. They're people who in my mind represent tolerance, love, freedom, and joy. I know, I'm super cheesy and a complete dreamer, idealist, blah, blah, blah head in the clouds blah blah.

1. I couldn't change if I tried
2. Everyone can just shut up, the world needs dreamers and do-gooders
3. I'm fantastic and entertaining

Anyway, how I feel about extravagant (and tasteful) shows of patriotism like the 4th of July is similar to how I felt being at the Eastside Gallery in Berlin. I felt this swell of happiness and pride just for being human. I know our system and government is screwed up but I think about a lot of the opportunities I am afforded by living here. I think about my father's upbringing in Indonesia and how hard he worked to push past his circumstances so that he could have a chance at a better life for him and his future family. It's hard and a constant struggle but he makes it work. Watching the fireworks over the Charles River with people who accepted me for all I am and all my faults and all my quirks was the most perfect way to spend a day dedicated to the idea of freedom.

How's the weather, Irving?

Whenever I discuss the weather with someone, I feel like I should be an old man in a fishing boat complaining about kids these days and my trick hip acting up but I think being from the east coast of the U.S. it's a big thing for us because we do have such wacky weather. It's really unpredictable sometimes and can really mess up plans for a day out. Some of my Czech friends make fun of me for commenting on the weather so often but I guess it's kind of part of culture here. As I jokingly said to Jenda, "We all complain about the weather and that's what unites us among all our differences: religions, class, race, sexual orientation, etc. There are no politics involved in the weather."

The weather here at home really makes me miss the predictability of Czech weather. And the lack of humidity. Sure the humidity can make my hair feel like I have an afro of crunchy spaghetti but for someone with a history of asthma, it goes beyond physical appearance. The humidity (no matter what time of year) makes it difficult to breathe and causes me to get a string of migraine headaches. Having a migraine makes it a little difficult to enjoy your vacation, especially when there is a very vocal 11-month old around.

All that aside, I am enjoying my time at home. I get to play with Anas for hours, relax, catch up on reading, do some well-deserved internet surfing, etc. I'm heading up to Boston for the 4th of July. I'll get to visit some friends I haven't seen for a while and hang out in quite possibly my favorite city in the U.S.

Kitschy kitchens and Elvis collector's plates.

I never realized how strange American culture is. Foreign friends have pointed out to me time and time again that I’m so strange, weird, a “hippy hipster lady”, crazy, etc. I never really understood why. I think compared to many Americans I’m quite calm. Yes, I have my own idiosyncrasies but I am far from the most eccentric person in America. Very far. I think I’ve begun to realize why people think this. I was out for a walk at the theater festival with my friend Jenda and I spotted some abandoned tea cups on the ground next to the trash. I thought they were quite pretty and considered picking them up, washing them and taking them home. Of course, Jenda yelled at me, saying they were dirty and anyway they were very kitsch (he also yelled at me for taking a picture of the bird skeleton we came across). Jenda doesn’t understand my fascination with kitsch. I told him, “You say kitsch, hipsters call it vintage.” While I was only joking I realized that it’s actually quite true. I think maybe that because America doesn’t have this long history full of ancient battles and old kings and we don’t have any castles that are thousands of years old, we are making our own history through kitschy items. We have this fascination with uncovering some semi-lost past and making it trendy and cool and exciting. I was pondering this as I was trying to sleep last night and came to some realization but of course I didn't write it down and it doesn't really make sense to me anymore. It was something like this: our obsession with a somewhat meaningless past is like stuffing a twenty-dollar bill in your pocket, forgetting about, and they fishing it out of your jean pocket after washing it and storing it in your closet for two months. It’s a pleasant surprise but we obsess over it and tell the story to our friends over and over. Yeah, I don't really know where I was going with that. Half-asleep logic is weird. 

But we do cling to the things from our recent past in search of some identity that we don’t really have as Americans. Or at least I feel I don't really have as an American. America used to be known as The Great Melting Pot and then morphed into a politically correct salad. I think that’s great for those who maintain their original identities and cultural practices but what about the following generations of those individuals? They don’t fall into the same category as their parents and are forced to form this new identity that is patched together from so many different scraps. It’s kind of a Frankenstein’s monster sort of deal. I guess that means we’re all freaks of nature.