Shall we remember this day?

It’s Thursday, June 8th, 2017, a little before 9am.  I’m sitting in my mama’s freshly-watered backyard garden. There is a pair of small birds flirting with each other, carving the desert air as they dash  from plant to plant, winding through the tree blossoms; white, pink, and red.

It’s my first Wednesday of summer break. As soon as I put my grade book to bed the other day I packed up my suitcases and drove across the desert to my folk’s place in the north of Las Vegas. So far, for the last few days, it’s been an alarming routine of eating, napping, and checking my phone. Occasionally I drive my mama to the grocery store or to the veterinarian; practice my asian squat and my standing forward fold.  At one point I created a quest to buy a new aloha shirt.

Former FBI director James Comey is currently testifying before a Senate committee; I watched a little of it until I got bored.  I hope it leads to the early demise of the DJT presidency, and the oligarchy that has taken over the Republic. People have taken off work to watch this testimony, eagerly gotten up early on the West Coast, and made this an event, complete with the hashtag #ComeyDay, like it’s a holiday.  If Comey’s testimony does bring down the president, today will be a day to remember in American history.

This summer break, besides Las Vegas, I’ll spend time in Seattle and Kauai, and probably LA.  I hope I start blogging more.  I’ve been thinking about blogging about Racial Imposter Syndrome, Gringo Pronunciation Enforcement, and weapons-grade ratatouille. My hope is that this summer I’ll blog, stick to my nutrition program, write my book “Memoirs of Becoming Multilingual,” get a book deal, and become the wealthy and culturally influential language teacher I aspire to be.

Or or or, alternatively I could win the Powerball; that would be awesome too.  It would certainly make today a day to remember.

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