last night was weird. I went to my sisters school concert. They were all well-fed, caucasian children with light brown or blonde hair. All in their Oxford uniforms. At their little private, Christian school. All the dads in their khakis (spelling?) and company polos. All the moms with their toddlers, struggling to keep their bleached hair straight and their earrings from being ripped out. They gave fake smiles toeachother, behind fake tans, covered by real designer labels.
 it was the picture of the seeming American Dream. The thing we all get hopelessly pulled towards, or trapped in.
 If we're fortunate enough to be the middle class.
To marry into business, or have connections.
 But with that cliche, redundant life, comes security. Security that you WIL get by, that your name WILL go on.. that you WILL find someone to love you, or at least spend their days with you.
 Part of me would feel relieved walking into that, but part of me would feel like I'd let myself down. While I want those relationships and that frustrating, doctor appoinment, soccer practice, and late dinner filled life- I think part of me will always wish for the risk, the exotic, and the new.
This is what I mean when I say I don't know who I am.
I can't choose between dreams and comfortable realities.
 Sorry for the rant- I'm just thinking out loud.