Well, it's fairly obvious that my attempts to make this "new" blog less personal has failed. I seem unable to separate and write about non-private issues.
When my mother first moved to America, cockroaches swarmed her apartment. When she moved, they followed her. "You dirty Chinese," the landlord yelled,"You brought cockroaches into my building!"
My mother moved again, this time to a house in the country. But before she entered her house, she laid all her belongings out on the lawn and left them there for days. Neighbors and strangers viewed all of her possessions, judging and counting her worth; it was humiliating and humbling. But it was the only way to get rid of the cockroaches, she told me.
Now I live away from my mother and sometimes I see my faults and mistakes as the cockroaches of my life. No matter where I go, they follow me. Perhaps this blog, this baring of my soul, is my way of trying to rid of them. Since a can of Raid won't work.