ugh

Well, the one week mark came and went, but the melancholy feelings have stayed, perhaps even worsened as time goes on. I was expecting to feel some loss, some culture shock from the big cars and big people. I didn't think I'd find myself horrified by the constant narrative on the television about why Americans are fat with frequent advertisements for how Americans can pay to stop being so fat. It's this strange teeter-totter thing, back and forth. And nothing really changes.

The kids and I make jokes to deal with the differences, for us. We went shopping for some paint (going to paint the treehouse) and paper (must write long-hand!) yesterday and I was griping about not being able to find a product and some random fellow shopper started chatting with me about the frustrations of the store layout. As the kids and I walked away, Stuart turned and joked, "Wow, her English is really good!" I needed the laugh. Outside the store, some man was talking with his kid in something akin to Farsi and I slowed my walking speed just to hear something I couldn't understand. I've taken to kind of turning off my ears at times. The overwhelming amount of talking, in English, annoys me. I don't want or need to understand everything that is said. Besides it takes the challenge out of communication, something I began to actually enjoy most of the time. (Granted there were a few times when I just wanted to sit down and cry: "Doesn't anyone speak English?!")

I've sent in my resume and applications for eight jobs so far. None pay anything close to what I was earning in Viet Nam. My students write and can't understand why I am not teaching. "You are best teacher. Why no one can teach?" one student emailed me. The strictness of the law regarding teaching in the US doesn't allow me to do what I love, so I have to find something else. But those of us with English majors are prevalent, so writing and editing jobs are few and snapped up as quickly as possible. Honestly, I've only found two jobs that entail writing. The others are tangent jobs that I could do, but not what I'm looking for (i.e. hauling boxes of food at the local Farmer's Market). I haven't heard back from anything.

I put notice up online via Craigslist for custom sewing, since that's easy enough for me to do, but no bites yet. And I'm re-working my Vietnamwithkids.com website. I got the front page up and then hated it. I fixed it more to my liking, but the interior pages are causing me hassle in the design area. Just can't get it to the point that I like it. Another frustration.

Sometimes it's hard to not wander my parents' small forest, silently crying over my life that seems completely without purpose. I felt like I was improving the world a tiny bit at a time when I was in Viet Nam. And now, the thoughts "waste of breath" and "pointless" invade my day and I can't figure out what the heck I can do. I could volunteer my time, but that's dismissed as ridiculous when I'm looking for work. And gas prices are so crazy-high that I can't afford to go anywhere. No money coming in, so no money can go out.

I really don't know how people do this. Landing in Viet Nam was difficult, but it was never so depressing.