am i supposed to get how this works (happiness)

Today may have been one of the most – relaxed, genuinely leisurely days I’ve had or remember having, ever, and I’m almost sorry it has to end and I’m wondering if this is what a normal day in the lifestyles of people hare are like, because it feels brilliant and so dangerously comfortable.

So this was day one of the post-Project Week laze, and all I’ve done: wake up at 8.30 AM for a shower; hot chocolate, pancakes and three kinds of sausages for breakfast (which lasted almost to noon, for some reason – we were talking, and waiting for Tyrel to come back from the hospital – he broke his right pinky – and we sat while he had breakfast); channel surfing for an hour before we stumbled across this movie, Year One, which is kind of a spoof of the Bible with Michael Cera and Keira Knightley and other undoubtedly more distinguised actors whose names I do not know, which was hilarious and occupied us till lunch; ham and cheese sandwiches and soft-drinks pop at around 2.30 PM; then, several thrilling rounds of 3-minute scrabble and idle bickering followed by a long, long game of Trivial Pursuit interspersed with Francis and Zijian trying to study their SAT words; finally, dinner just past with awesome pot roast, baked potatoes and blueberry and apple pies for dessert. The day started out foggy enough that you saw nothing but white mist beyond the trees outside, and Alice, the host mom, said it was actually clouds, since we’re high up enough on the hill; it was beautiful, and white, and almost ethereal. Then the sun came out modestly in the afternoon, and now it’s dark out, and the boys are watching the Lakers game on TV, while I steal a couple moments of quiet time.

It’s curious how unreal I feel, being here – the house, the food, what we’re doing, how laidback and serene everything is, listening to the boys talk seriously about sports (like, seriously) and not just a single sport, being interested in hockey and basketball and soccer and skating and in general following sports, and then switching over to talking serious physics and chemistry and math (Zijian was discussing his math EE with us earlier), and then in the same breath bitching about some trivial thing, and it’s mindblowing when I stop to tihnk about it, the vitality that I can see here, illuminating and engaging enough that I can’t even muster enough self-involved pity to feel inadequate. I like just listening to everyone talk, in a way, the steady glow, the gentle buzz of camaraderie. I like being able to live with a few people for a week, and learn so much more about them and their ways of life and the multiplicity of cultures.

I guess, in that sense (and in more than just that sense), I miss you guys, miss being back in Singapore and how small and blindly, unthinkingly familiar it was, how single-minded, how easy it was to be that way, but I don’t feel like I can go back – or if I can, I’m not sure I want to. How trite would it be to say that this isn’t easy, whatever this is or supposed to be or could be. I feel like throwing myself into things, sometimes, right now – not stop and get distracted or too comfortable (because I would love to live here, in a place like this, but I will not cease thinking about what it means for me to be eating well and living well in a huge house and the people that are not, you know. The inertia is almost-instant.) 

I am now going to conclude my lovely day with some reading in the living room while the boys watch the match, and tomorrow is going to be even better or just as good, which would be enough, actually, and then the long ride back to college and everyone, and – what is this, what is this, even, this swell of feeling. I wish someone was here with me. (And if this is only hormones, then God is just fucking around with us.)

Go listen to this mix, if you are so inclined (: All the best for mother tongue As, bbs.


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