Before moving to China I had mentioned to my friends that I would start a blog. Of course, as good friends go (and fortunately my life is filled with lovely spirits), they were very supportive of my idea; some having never traveled internationally and would probably benefit greatly living through me. What an honor. What an opportunity. Bringing along my “people” on the most grandest adventure of my life! A sigh of relief; the idea that I would not be alone in the alone-ness on this Expat assignment felt warm to me like a gifted homemade crocheted blanket from a loved one. Besides sharing those in-the-moment moments with loved ones, a blog would help me to keep track of my International travels, in my words, not that of a library book of someone else’s experiences.

Welp, I bombed. I failed. Kaboom. Wah-wah. I let down my friends, my tribe. I failed myself. Sorry Mom.

If I am being honest here, and why the hell not, my body is not getting (or feeling) any younger. And my memory is fading me sooner than I had anticipated. Perhaps we give ourselves permission for our memory to fade when in our third act? Buy hot damn, I just can not accept the fact that I am forgetting even the details of my 30’s while in my 40’s! Dude, forgetting bits of my teen years is acceptable-ish, but forgetting the past decades is outright embarrassing and frustrating. But so it goes. Here I am. Having never taken the time to sit down to journal my life and experiences, I deserve to struggle through this next step in my life. Me being honest. This whole thing brings tears to my eyes but… I can not turn back the clock, and my goal is to live at least another 30 years so here I am. Having never taken the time to sit down… blah blah blah.

Let’s briefly rewind to Fall 2016. While talking to Lori, one of my dearest tribe members, about not following through with my blog, she simply and lovingly stated: “It’s ok. You are living in the moment.”

And there you have it, friends. She was on point. I was indeed in the moment; enjoying every boat ride, temple climb, curry dish, watching my children play in the sand…..

So here I am. Having never taking the time to sit down… until now. Why “Little Shrimpy Things” you ask? It is as complicated as it is not. In Asian markets are tall barrels of dried foods; one of which being little shrimpy things.