(Only Two) Things to Say

I have two things to say on this virutally starless Rhode Island night. (Some of the more country-ish, open-road towns have clusters and clusters of bright silver stars winking above, but not me here in this suburb.) The first:

Why do people have to get high on marijuana when there are conversations to be had in Chinese? Nothing gives me a high like talking with someone in his or her (non-English) native language.

The other:

Okay, so you've got a seventeen-year-old girl in front of you. You haven't seen this girl in probably almost a year now, ever since she stopped attending Saturday evening church service. Last time you saw her, she was pale and skinny and eating nothing but carrots at the Wednesday night church suppers. Then she went into the hospital. Put two and two together.

A tip for getting along with teenage girls, no matter how old you are: when you see the young lady a year later, don't tell her she looks like she's "gaining a pound or two", no matter how well you mean.

Emily