Novel Eye

"For transracial adoptees, our lives are written in pencil. Everything you think you know about yourself can change in an instant." Bryan Thao Worra

Two things: One, Angell was recently completely refurbished, so the waiting area was completely different from the night we went there for an emergency. Bizarrely it looked quite a bit like the human hospital in my dream , even down to the vending machines at one end, the curved wooden benches, the big automatic doors (which Guinness nearly crashed into). The only difference was that the one in my dream was brightly colored and this one was monochrome. Almost disturbingly similar. Two, Angell has an adoption center, which we foolishly walked through. My husband fell in love with several cats, including one who was so fat he looked like a pillow with a head. The dogs' stories were just heartbreaking--owners got to old, owners died, owner's abandoned, didn't deal with newborn baby. They were such sweet dogs who had no idea why their happy home wasn't there anymore. Some of them were huge--they're going to be hard to place. I kept tearing up and had to leave. ...

I could probably blog continuously, given half a chance. Yes, I am that self- absorbed . There's always that self-narrative going on in my head. I try to wait until I at least have some semblance of a central thesis--some premise that goes beyond the "and then I did this, and then I did this, and it was cool." To at least find the lesson learned, which might or might not be obvious to the reader, and if there is some point, then it might be applied in a universal way. I wrote this on the Blackberry on the train going downtown. Unfortunately, I can't seem to get it to talk to my computer via it's cable so I had to retype it, but it gives me a chance to edit. Continuing the discussion of being insular from a few days ago: I was walking back from South Station after seeing a friend onto a train. It was late and the neighborhood can be rough (Financial District--ghost town on weekends and nights, with lurking homeless and drunks). I'm seldom afraid, but I try to b...

I'm adopted from The Republic of South Vietnam, and if you know anything, that will give you an idea of my age. Last year I found and joined a group called VAN. This is an excerpt from a thread that recently appeared at the VAN site. My response is at the bottom. I've done each in a different color. I'll probably write more about this at some point. It's a hot button for me. Initial post ABC7, a local news channel in San Francisco, CA just aired a segment on Amerasian issue. Click here for the story: Local Woman Finds Out She Doesn't Exist First Response You know, something kind of like this happened to me. I was returning from Montreal a few years ago (post-9/11) and only had my driver's license on me. When I went into Canada, the border officer told me that I should be fine but in the future I should bring my passport (at this point, an ex had thrown it out anyway). So no big deal...I go to Montreal, do my thing, and am heading back. I get ...