Am home. I have so many thoughts, so many experiences, so many stories and all I can say is I'm home. I guess that shows a bit of my heart. Am learning the significance of being an ambassador, someone who represents something to someone else, while still remaining true to the thing they represent. I am home.

China was beyond my expectations and I will never again read or hear about a persecuted Christian, imprisoned or outcast, without a pang in my heart for my brothers and sisters living there. It was a precious time of learning the importance of freedom and the blessing in authority which doesn't dictate, but rules by a standard of morality. Sickened by the state of communism there, by the lack of regard for human life, by the apathy that represents a culture that is headed in the general direction of decline. The things that make my stomach hurt thinking about are the things that seems so far removed from my average American mindset, things that don't affect me directly and any effort I make at protesting them I can do comfortably from my chair. Here they were standing in front of me and staring at me in the face, daring me to make a difference, even if only a prayer. Only a prayer.

What kind of monster am I?

Thought I would be suffering from jet lag, 36 hours of travel tends to wipe out, shouldn't it? But slept about six hours last night and am feeling fine.

Tonight Jax, Danny, Danny and I are going to The Fields to catch up and be friends [and siblings, since we seem to have forgotten that two of actually are.].

I just got a random phone call from someone I'd rather not receive a phone call from. I tried hard to be gracious, but sometime I think graciousness can take second place when my current state of singlehood is being oppressed. It's not that he's not a nice guy, as my mother assured me he was, it's that he's not going to win my heart by trying so darn hard. Of course he probably wouldn't win my heart if he wasn't trying either. But that's beside the point. The point really is, I'm not in the mood to be pursued. Or more specifically, I'm not in the market to be pursued. But I suppose that is all really pretty objective.

Or it should be.

You said you read these meager ramblings of my mind every night before bed. My meager rambling mind is curious as to who you are. What it is you think about besides my hand-me-down-thoughts? So Molly, who are you? Because somehow, for all the admiration you poured on me for my dissection of beliefs, you've put them into practice more than I can boast. Knowing that you cry and search your soul after reading what I write makes me wonder why I don't cry and search my own soul after reading what I write. It seems like it ought to be that way, and it just isn't.

My black doc's have climbed The Great Wall, walked around Tianaman square, stepped up the mountains of stairs to the White Mountain in Dali, ridden on a boat on Ear Sea, stood by the roaring Yangst River, carried me through the market of Kunming and now they will retire for a few days at Luchi's Shoe Repair in Potsdam while undergoing some tender love and care. They deserve it.

Somehow, while I was gone, the adjunct door between Dan's room and mine was accidentally pulled off it's hinges. It is leaning against my bookshelves. I wonder why. Danny C. promises to put it back, so i suppose it was his doing. But it seems a bit strange that it wasn't just pulled out of it's hinges but that the hinges are actually bent from the pressure that must have been the cause of it's demise. Poor door.

Flying was not all it was cracked up to be. I suppose as all things go, opinions shade any facts presented to one who remains unlearned, so there were those [Liz] who hate flying and let me know in no uncertain terms. Those [Jax] who love flying and describe all the beauty and wonder that accompanies it. Those [Danica] who can think of better things to do in their spare
time, but since it's a necessity to get to do some of those things, it becomes an evil which must be endured. Those [Mom] who have never flown and so cannot even begin to tell me anything about it that I'll believe. And now those [Me] who have neither good nor bad experiences with it and so it becomes a way to get from one place to another and something which couldn't described as either good or bad. Just a lot of hours doing nothing.

A lot a hours doing nothing.

I did listen to every station they offered on the international flights radio. Or rather I listened to every station except the Chinese one and the business one. So after hours of Rodgers and Hammerstein, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Janis somebody on the Jazz station which I liked and more I was relieved to take a break and watch with one half opened eyelid, Men In Black II. One word. Or perhaps better stated in four; Don't Waste Your Time.

Unless of course you have a lot of hours to do nothing with.