I was 3,000 miles away when it happened. So I can't truly understand how my fellow New Yorkers felt, can I?
My friends tell me how they're constantly nervous, anxious, and depressed to the point of crying. They tell me of the languishing dust and stagnant smell of the dead. They tell me about the relentless rumors of bomb scares and (unfortunately now somewhat justified) bioterrorist attacks.
They tell me all that, and how am I to really understand all the way here in California?
"What if you walked down the street and someone pricked you with an infected needle? You might get anthrax!"
About a dozen friends asked me something like that when I told them I wanted to take a trip back to Manhattan.
I was all ready to move to Los Angeles.
I'll be honest, Los Angeles wasn't always on my I Want To Live There List.
Most New Yorkers who see LA don't like it. And I was no different. "It's too spread out; everything's so far away," us New Yorkers say. Our spoiled sense of convenience isn't served by LA's congested freeways.
I could only smile apologetically at my grandma as she asked me a question. She grinned in return as she shook her head and tried to come up with the words in English.
Sadly, my Cantonese is shameful. I'm the typical Chinese American born in a predominantly Caucasian town. That means I speak almost zero Chinese.
Weekly random rambles, musings & writings of Mike Lee in San Francisco, CA