I hope that this letter finds you well and that a steady diet of Thai food hasn’t impinged on your health. Not that I fear it would – I’m Indonesian, after all; I knock back satay and peanut sauce with the best of them. You’re from Morro Bay, though – I don’t know how “your people” can handle hot foods.
I’m joking, of course; I really miss your mom’s habanero-apricot jam. I miss you more, though. I got your postcard and the monks on the front tickled me pink (you would send me a postcard with monks on it.)
DC is a lovely town. I wasn’t too fond of it at first, but it grows on you. The Library of Congress was my primary selling point; you know me and books (and there’s something charming about all the alabaster and marble in that part of town.)
Apartment life is good, though it brings out the worst in me – oversleeping, laziness, insomnia, and the like. I’m adapting, and I’m sure I’ll be fine before my research paper begins to press on me.
Which reminds me, class + work = intense. I don’t know if it’s my usual mid-quarter nerves kicking in or if it’s the electricity in the air inside the Beltway, but I find myself more stressed and more nervous every day. Or maybe it’s the overloading I’m prone to – paper, internship, elective, organizing (all unpaid, of course!) and the part-time job I’m scrambling to find. Or the other loan I have to take out. Or the way my money keeps disappearing. Or something else. It happens.
Still, it’s great to be here; it’s a really affirming and challenging place to be and it reminds me where I’m planning to do. No life-changing stuff, yet, but it’s a good place to be, though I miss you (and the whole LA crew) terribly.
Stay safe – nd mark your calendar. December 11th. Be good.