NOT A MODEL-JUST PART OF THE STORY

I ran across an essay today and I almost fell apart. It highlighted a truth I knew subconsciously, but had trouble admitting to for along time. I am someone who hates being photographed, and after the end of my marriage, I realized I was in very few of the photographs we took; maybe 5 over an 8 year period. Keep in mind we traveled to Alaska, Kenya, Paris, London, Ireland, Jamaica, Venezuela, etc. so at the very least there should have been some photos of me in those places. I had long attributed the lack of photographs of myself to my absolute hatred of being photographed. But then I ran out of excuses, over that period of time I noticed that somehow, my friends and family had photographs of me. They captured me when I wasn't looking or when I was laughing so hard, I just couldn't stop them from taking pics.

Somehow, the people who wanted me to be a part of their lives found a visual way of making room for me, even against my objections. A few weeks ago a new friend asked me to pose for a photograph in Arlington, VA near one of the monuments. He wanted a photo of both me and the monument. I asked him why he would want one with me since it was better just getting a pic of the monument. He said- what kind of question is that? I knew what kind of question that was, it was the kind of question that comes from someone who expects to be left out. I begrudgingly posed for the pic. thankful that someone wants me to be a part of their story.

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I CAN'T PASS JUDGMENT ANYMORE

I know all of my friends are loving the ease and convenience of carrying books around on a Kindle, or whatever the gadget of the day is, but this move to electronic reading is really affecting my ability to judge others, yes, you heard me right-judging others is now difficult. It used to be that I could sit on the train and just by watching book covers, and their respective readers, I would get an idea of what books I might like. Now, everyone has a kindle and I can't really derive reading recommendations without appearing to be a stalker. But worse than that, new friendships are severely affected. I used to be able to walk into someone's house and look at their bookcase and know whether I should run the other way-now, the non-visibility of books makes identifying incompatibility so much more difficult. For example, if someone were to walk into my house, this is what they might see: You would be correct in making quite a few assumptions about me based on this ...

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I often write about my experiences as an immigrant; a series of moments of flux and transition, amusement and discord, complete openness and heavy walls. There is very little that is fixed. As I grow older though, the notion of "home" becomes stronger and stronger, increasingly fixed and solid in some ways but geographically unstable and dispersed. As I grow older and older my pangs of homesickness are sharper-every once in a while I sit and can't stop myself from yearning for people and places that have nothing to do with each other. I now understand that stare my mom has when she is enjoying a very fresh and ripe fruit-she is here eating the fruit, but she is also "there" enjoying it. When I was young it would get on my nerves to see her disappear, but now, I respect her brief moment of meditation on time, place and belonging. So when I say I am homesick-its not in quite the same way people who are born and raised in the same place speak of homesickness...

THE TYRANNY OF THE GOOD MAN: UNSOLICITED ADVICE TO YOUNG WOMEN ON CHOOSING A PARTNER

I have been hesitant to share this thought. In some ways it reveals my naivete about past relationships, fears I have of future ones and weakness in relationships all around, However, I have had so many similar conversations with women of all ages, that I thought I would just publicize the idea however underdeveloped, because there is a young woman out there making a life decision right now and may be making the same mistake women have been making for millenia. The idea first came when I told my aunt that I felt weird not being angry at my ex-husband. Everyone wanted me to hate him, but to me he was a "good man" and I couldn't hate him, to which she quickly replied that was the problem. I asked her to explain further. She said something to the effect of: "Look around, we are surrounded by bad men, now I know you love your uncles and cousins, but would you want to date any of them?" I briefly thought about it-the uncle who chased his wife with a machete for...

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