Often, the little things go unnoticed, but it is precisely on these little things that our lives are built: all impressions, all emotions, and all memories. Including the memories of every day spent somewhere far from home.

A barely noticeable accent of people from this area compared to people from the Midwest—it would seem like a trifle. Or, for example, the fact that for a long time now, in offices like Social Security, all employees speak Spanish as well as they speak English. And also the fact that now most families have a Wii at home and cable (the kind where you can record what you want or skip commercials). We notice that we had burgers for dinner, that the rain prevents us from swimming in the pool, and that finding a job right now is quite difficult. Why then can't we notice the intonation with which the phrase "i miss you" is spoken? What is wrong with us at that moment? We sort of skip over everything soulful, trying to catch the bus to Boston or get in touch with an employer sooner. I just want to be here and notice every little thing you tell me on AIM.

Perhaps, for a program like Work and Travel USA, I chose the country a bit incorrectly. I arrived in my Past. To a place where I have already been and where even my things are and my memories lie. And attached to them are little tags—little things that I either didn't notice before or deliberately ignored. And now the "trifle" is heavy—it feels like it's weighing down my pocket. In theory, greenbacks should be crunching, but I just sit and look through commemorative quarters. Little things that are full of memories. I love this city.