I almost never post twice within a 24 hour span, but I'm going to make an exception because this is technically a new day. Plus everything is fresh in my mind, and I can only capture all my emotions if I write now.

I just came back from my annual Christmas dinner get-together for my dad's side of the family. I'm not really too close to any of the family members, so I just usually hang out with my brother and hide in the corner eating cookies. For some reason, they split only me up from the "kids" table and set me with my parents and the adults. And what's even weirder is that they placed me three seats away from my parents, meaning I was sitting in the middle of nowhere. I wonder how that table plan came about, because it made no sense at all.

Anyway, the real thing I want to talk about has to deal with this Japanese married couple in their late 20's/early 30's that joined us for dinner. They are friends of my uncle who speak very little English, are pharmacists too like my uncle, and have nowhere to go this Christmas so they were invited to join us. If you know me, I'm pretty antisocial when I want to be. However, I felt kinda bad for this couple because they didn't speak the language and were thousands of miles away from home. It turns out that the husband was sent to work in UCSF for six months to work in the pharmacy, and then go back home to Japan and tell his boss what American pharmacy is like. They're actually living in a place right next to UCSF. I just felt bad because I could tell how homesick they were, especially when they just sat by themselves at the dinner table. And to top it all off, my mom tells me that the wife just had a miscarriage. She was very pretty and wearing one of those traditional Japanese outfits.

I did get a chance to talk to the husband and just say hello/shake his hand and make him feel welcome. I normally don't do that kind of thing, but I just felt bad for them. I know they felt like they didn't belong there from their body language. I know exactly how that feels, because I always feel like an outcast, whether it be at school, at family get-togethers, and even sometimes among friends. I don't think I felt pity for them because I know that's not what they would want, but it really put some things in perspective for me. I just spent so many posts bitching and moaning about what I don't have and what other people have. And here is this guy who has everything in life I'd want: a stable job, a chance to travel, and a beautiful wife. Yet you could tell that her miscarriage throws everything out of place, and it's nothing that either of them did wrong. I'm sure America is the last place they want to be right now.

I'll probably never see them again after today, but I definately won't forget them. I'm not really sure what to take from this experience. I just somehow feel that they impacted me in some way. Maybe I just need to sleep on it and figure out what I just went through and what's this feeling that I have right now. I don't know if it is pity, or just sorrow.

I think taking a trip to Japan is near the top of my International Things To Do List.

If you know me well enough, you know that I believe everything has feelings. I feel sorry for the carrot cake that nobody eats, because everyone would rather eat the chocolate or mango cake. So I eat the carrot cake. I feel sorry for the restraunt that's empty except for one person, because nobody gives it a chance. I feel sorry for the guy sitting by himself in the cafe, so I sit across from him at the same table not to start a conversation, but so he doesn't feel alone during his meal. I think I've finally come to realize why I do all these things: because I know what it's like to be that carrot cake, or empty restraunt, or guy sitting alone at the table. It's easy to have the solution to problems you've been through. I'm a piece of carrot cake that nobody wants to eat.

If you think you can sum up my experience today and put it in some kind of Lesson of the Day format, go for it. Maybe it goes something like: God is in control. Or maybe this guy is just living the life I'd like to have and I can see myself in him, and his sadness is somehow affecting me. Or maybe subconsciously, I'm finally realizing that perhaps some of us aren't meant to be parents, or married. I hope he and his wife give it another try and do become parents someday, and it'll be even better if they come back to visit the U.S. with a baby. This post wasn't meant to make you sad. I just need some help trying to figure out why this couple, who doesn't speak the same language as I do, seems to be communicating to me better than anyone else.