I really like to talk on the phone.

I just have no one to talk with. The kind of phone with a cord. Not this wireless disconnected wireless crap. The kind of phone that you can twist your fingers around, that leave you tied to a room so you can't do anything else but talk to that person. That's what I like. I like to talk to people on the phone and commit my full attention to them when I talk. One of my biggest pet peeves is talking on the phone with someone in the room, with someone listening the conversation it's never the same.

Today my mom called me, and while I listen to her tell me her stories about Brisbane to Malaysia to her cruise from Canada back to southern California I couldn't help but smile and think how much I miss the phone. Miss my mom. I travel because of her.  Maybe that's why watching scenes pass by on a bus or train puts me at ease. If I can't see the window or road I feel uneasy.

Anyways not cellphone. The phone with a cord where you can wrap your fingers around. My office has one, and I'm dying to find someone to talk to on it for hours. I used to talk to my best friends in high school for hours, in fact I think I made best friends through the phone. It was my way to the outside world, because I when I was younger I wasn't allowed to go outside too much. I remember very clearly this pair of hand made pajamas I wore all the time. They were white with navy blue stripes made by my mom's hands. I liked the tough cotton feeling of them. I wore them with my red shoes. Sometimes my gold shoes. And if I couldn't find another pair I would wear one gold shoe and one red shoe.

"why she wearin' two different color shoes?" said the neighborhood girl.
"my mom couldn't find the other one" I said.

I would make things up. I really wanted to play with them. I followed them until they all dashed into a house I was scared to go into or maybe they wouldn't let me in, I don't really remember. I do remember a boy who use to bully me a bit but I think I had a crush on him. My two color shoes. He played ding dong ditch and I told him to stop it. That we would get in trouble. I remember falling once from my bike when I was with him. My dad told me to stop playing with him and I never knew where he went.

And so that is what my memory wants to recall today. I am still in Vietnam. My aunt and cousin from America are coming tomorrow to Long Xuyen and I'm excited. Time to bike ride.