I don't want to come home. I really don't. This place is really amazing and I've met some really awesome people. Though it's probably too early to say, I think I'm getting a little bit better at the language, and even if I can't really speak it very well at least I can understand most of what my teachers are saying to me. Plus, this city is pretty fucking awesome. In Sakae there's Nova and Louis Vatan and Gucci, and Outback Steakhouse and gambling centers the size of some city parks--and yet, right outside my balcony there's an absolutely beautiful garden and somewhere in Nagoya there's a castle that's probably centuries and centuries old.

It's an amazing place, it really is. I'm not ready to give up yet.

But you know what I really want?

I want my family. I miss them so much. Every day I think about them, and I catch myself daydreaming, sometimes, about the day when I can hug my mom again. Every sound, every sight, every little thing triggers a memory. Even the happy ones make me cry. When John Denver makes you bawl like a little girl, you know you've got problems. (But I've always cried at Country Roads, haven't I?)

I want my friends who speak English, I want classes I can blow off, I want toilets with only one button, thank you, and no, I don't want to eat any more rice cakes, they're disgusting. Saying it slower and louder will not make me suddenly comprehend what the fuck you're saying, and Jesus Christ, when you see a lonely little foreign girl crying her eyes out, could you give the poor thing a hug? I haven't got cooties and touching me won't make you any less Asian, I promise. I want to get online and write with Meg, and I want to be able to call home whenever I want without having to worry about what ungodly hour of the morning it is there. I want my mommy.

And I hate to say it, but...
Dammit, I really want a Wal-Mart.