Richness

I am in Los Altos, California, for my best friend's wedding. This is one of the wealthiest parts of the country. You know, Silicon Valley..."Do You Know The Way To San Jose doo doo doo DOO doo doo dodododooo dodo dooo..."

It's difficult for me to explain what exactly is going on inside of my head.

I bought the happy soon-to-be-wed couple a microwave. I felt really good about that present.

It's like my life in Jordan was a dream. Maybe it will become more real when I get back to Massachusetts. Maybe it's just this transitory state here. Maybe it really was a dream. Maybe Irbid and Sharia Cinema and Ayhem Abu A-Sha'ar never really existed. It just seems so impossible that I could be all the way over here buying my best friend a microwave, when two weeks ago I was taking down the laundry from where it was drying on the line outside, while my 13 year old Arabic brother stood by with Hammadeh, his friend, to be sure nothing bad happened while I was outside by myself. That I walked through five different airports in the last week (Queen Aliya, Charles de Gaulle, John F. Kennedy, Bradley, Chicago Midway, San Jose...okay so six!), by myself - yet two weeks ago there was a boy who came to my house and asked for my hand in marriage...what?

Fuse blowage.