Last night was the Oyama Senmaida year-end party. It filled my heart with happiness and my belly with good Chinese food.
I am sure my table laughed the most and the loudest. Was it the alcohol? Maybe. Our conversations ranged from looking up how to say fried rice in Chinese (chǎofàn) and French (riz frit), to whether we should start a nursing home that serves black coffee and toast for breakfast.
I’ve promised Mizuta-san, our photographer, some chili pepper seeds next time I get to the US. And I am looking forward to Junko’s dance fitness class starting next week.
My heart was warm from the feeling of inclusion. I got the jokes. I added to the conversation. It was a good night for an introverted weirdo like me.
