14 Years

14 years ago’s today, April 23, 1995, I arrived in America. It seemed so long ago. But the number 14, seemed so small. I can still remember the first time I set my foot on this foreign soil. I was only 11 at the time. The first thing (or one of the first thing) I said to my grandparents was “this doesn’t feel much different”. I distinctively remember my grandma got so mad about that statement. She thought it was insulting. I was simply stating my view. One thing that really felt weird at the moment was the empty streets. Nobody walks on the sidewalks. I thought it was an abandoned city. I’ve always heard stories about how no one ever walks, everyone drives. But seeing it is really different than imagining. Of course, car sick was inevitable. That night, I adjusted to sleeping pretty well, even with the time difference and all. But I woke up at 3am, and thought about what I would’ve been doing if I was back home. Life just fly pass you so quickly. Most of the times, I don’t even remember the anniversary, but today, as I was reading cnn.com, I found out that I share this date with the emaciation of U.S. soldiers from Nazis six decades ago. Talk about crazy!

So today, I’m sitting in front of the computer, getting ready to finish up my essay for the application. This process is taking way too long. I have to finish everything before the end of month. I’ve been procrastinate again. I am half way through the essay though, but haven’t started on my digital portrait yet. I’ll set my goal to finish that this weekend. But I always set a goal to finish on the weekend. But I’m really aiming for it this time. April is almost over. I can’t waste any more time.

Here are some storm pictures I took instead of writing my essay.