I have so many, so, so many crushes. One for my professor at NTU, two for two schoolmates, three more for three friends, and of course, one giant crush for the one I love. All these crushes make me wonder, am I a crush fiend? I know I have issues with the drink, but are crushes one of those things that simply won't leave me be? I dream of crushes of people who I've had crushes on years ago, and I dream of crushes of a younger, more innocent me. Fortunately my reflection in the dreams was not as beautiful as Narcissus, I came back in one piece. Though I was being held by a former lover, and was dipped into the water, but she pulled me out almost instantly, and I managed to keep my bottle of beer intact.

A few nights ago, I drank the right amount to have a extensive hangover until today. All day yesterday I slept, woke at 6 for dinner, and promptly went back to sleep six hours later. Yesterday felt surreal, needless to say to those who have had severe hangovers before, doesn't a Hangover feel like a dream? For example, it's spring outside right now. FINALLY! Spring in Taiwan, maybe that's why I've been getting all these crushes. Heck, the flowers are blooming, and the fauna mating, there are going to be lots of babies in about nine months from now. Which begs the attention to heed the great amount of change a single individual will go through in a full cycle of birth. Imagine a woman, who just woke up from a night with her lover, they made love. And Love did they make, because as this moment that you read this, another woman who had the same awakening nine months ago today, is now in the greatest pain that she will ever have to endure. I met a formally pregnant woman two nights ago, she has a six month old new baby boy. Ten years sit between the eldest and the younger, from what my mother's told me, I don't blame her. But she's still going to try for a girl.

It's spring time in Taiwan, for all to see. It's hot now, and the air is thick enough to swim in. But darn-it, it's cold no more. In a few weeks the smells of body oder will linger in every coagulated corner of air, and the embarrassed mask of perfume will only get muddled up with it. But it will smell like a wet, happening spring. Mothers with babies in their bellies will sweat for the both of them, and come December, a little baby will go through the same old winter, also their first Taiwanese, miserable winter. But mother will have child, and child will have ten toes, and 10 fingers, two eyes, one nose. Ears wrapped snug in a yellow blanket in a room with yellow walls. And that child will grow up to have so many crushes of their own, and I'll be that same parent that I fortunately have that comes to their room every morning when they're 20 and visiting home, and just stand there with the door open and looking at them sleep, only wishing I had a womb. To the future Mrs.: How I envy you so.