I think I miss Peru. I listened to this latin guy read spanish poetry last night and i am pretty sure he is my soulmate but we will never see each other again. Then tonight I went to a bilingual church in Bridgeton. And I talked to a couple who were in Lima when I was. I miss it!

ps. i didn't mean to invite you guys specifically to read bad poetry. i just made the blog private so i had to invite you in case you ever felt like reading . . . thank you for indulging me.

So I am living at home right now, and I'm actually having so much fun. When I'm home for more than a few weeks, it means I don't have a job. I also have zero friends here. And usually I am going crazy. But this time is so nice. Partially, because I have a plan. I'm applying for volunteer positions with Mennonite Central Committee. One is teaching english in Iraq over the summer. One is a sort of public health liaison type person in Nicaragua. But I have like 6 months before any of those begin, so I applied for the census job, and I am applying to be a substitute teacher here in NJ.
I've also been visiting friends in different places and going back and forth to philly. It's been so cool seeing everyone.
But even just being at my house is so nice. For one thing, I think I'm still not accustomed to the luxuries of heated houses and hot showers. My life in Peru was somewhat uncomfortable. Not because it was in a third-world country, but because I was broke. And living essentially alone in a tiny apartment. So it's luxurious having a fridge full of food, having food cooked for me, sitting in a heated living room with big fat couches. My little brothers have turned from little tiny kids into friends, and my parents are friends, too.
Last night we watched "The Invention of Lying." It was really interesting. Ricky Gervais co-wrote it and produced it and starred in it. I want to say more about this movie later.
This weekend has been so fun. My mom made these awesome soups and we watched movies and went outside in the snow. I feel happier, it's really weird.

“I’m gonna’ miss you like a child misses their blanket” Fergie says.
That’s about right,
how I loved you.

sans reason, logic, judgment
some natural affinity in the beginning of course, and affinity
even still
some esteem interest desire of course
I’m not an animal

but maybe careless, maybe a child, blanket in hand
an instinctive turning toward warmth

once comforted,

dropped forgotten

like a blanket or like
nicotine scotch cocaine

addicted no longer to pleasure, fulfillment
but to adequacy,
maintenance
want you even when I
have you

but you turn out in the end, disappointingly,
to be . . .

a person

requiring something of me and so
I am forced to
decline your
offer of sustenance
but just
barely and
sometimes I am still a child, a junkie, and in my dreams I find satisfaction
but it’s never you.