Have you ever been so happy that you just wanted to scream and fly?
I waited five years for this day to come. My sister is finally coming to the U.S. For years I dreamed of having my big sister back in my life. I dreamed of her being here for my birthday. I dreamed of her in my arms. I don’t know how these years passed by me. I don’t know how many nights and days I prayed to God to bring her to me. Having older siblings is a great gift. I don’t know how to thank God. I don’t know what to do. I am excited, nervous; just…I can’t believe it. And the funny thing is that I knew it all along. I knew this day would come. I knew there’d be a day when I’d be hugging my sister again. So many years passed and I didn’t get to have her give me advice. For years we said our birthday wishes on the phone. For years I kept thinking ‘God, when are you going to let me see her?’ When I went back to Iran two years ago, my sister and I both cried in the airport. That was the last time we saw each other. It’s been hard. Many hard years have passed, but we are finally going to be together.

I don’t like looking at magazines when I go to Barnes & Noble. I used to and still do. But now it makes me sick. I’m sick of looking at the private life of so and so, their break ups, their pregnancies, their marriage, and so forth. I mean, who cares? Why is image so important these days? Why is a certain haircut not right for your face? Who says it’s not right? What’s worse is that people actually waste hours at the bookstore looking at Jennifer Lopez and her wedding pictures or Britney’s secret marriage. I admit I do it too sometimes. However, now days I just read a book, drink hot chocolate, and quickly glance at the magazine covers.

USA Today is an amazing place. It’s where everything happens, the news you see on television happens right in front of you. Our journalism staff got to visit it today, including me. I can’t explain the rush of excitement I felt as I walked around. Looking at reporters’ desks that were piled up with paper and their computers ready for their stories made me want to sit and start working right away. I’ve had the dream of being a journalist for a long time. It just sounds like such an exciting and thrilling job. I feel like I’ve accomplished something just by knowing what I want to be. It’s scary being out in the real world. You don’t get that feeling in school. In school you feel trapped, powerless and weak. I’ve always been scared of growing up, but I’m growing up everyday anyway. It’s a step-by-step process, like when a child first learns to crawl, stand, walk, and then run. It will be a difficult journey, but it’ll be worth it and that’s all that matters right now.

I was sitting in the cafeteria, surrounded by red and pink balloons. As I walked the hallways, once again I was faced with giant balloons that came right in my face. Couples walked the hallways, hand in hand, whispering to each other, showing off their happy smiles and glowing with pride. Teachers wore ridiculously red flowered-shirts, brightening the hallways with their “Happy Valentines Day” smiles.
As kids went about, happily holding their chocolate boxes and heart-shaped balloons, I wondered how the others felt. You know, the ones that never get gifts, never get boxes of chocolate or even a Hershey’s kiss. How do they feel? From morning till noon they have to cross the halls, with at least one balloon flying their way. Or they might see a couple kissing in the corner, each holding a Valentines Day balloon or a carnation. Maybe it doesn’t affect them; maybe it is just another day. But they will always be reminded of that day. The day when stores fill their shelves with red hearts and candles and couples spend their savings on chocolates and cards and roses, Valentines Day.

When people leave, there is always an empty space. They’re always present in your heart, but their seat at the table is always empty. When my brother left, when my dad left, when I left, it was all the same. The emptiness, the silence, everything was the same. Dinners were no longer the same, conversations had lost their quality, silence was often the ending of those conversations. Every party was different, every celebration was followed by the words “if they were here…” I got used to it just like I got used to living in America. I began to realize how much I love them. Now many years has passed since our last new year together as a family. My sister is coming here in March. She is getting ready to say good-bye forever, like I did five years ago. Except I didn’t know it would be forever…

I must thank someone very special.
Someone who has always been there for me, has always supported me, and has always loved me. I can not thank him enough. He is given so much to me. He is the greatest and most dear person in my heart.
This site would not be what it is if it wasn’t for him.
My brother has done so much that I am quite speechless.
Thank you dadash!

I’ve been feeling depressed lately, today I’m good though 😉
It’s just life… it’s been hard lately. There have been too many thoughts, too many problems, too little listeners. Everyone has their own problems… They don’t need to hear about mine.
You know, the more seriously you take life, the more serious it becomes. It might sound too simple but it’s true. If you take it hard, it will be hard. If you take it easy, it will be easy.
I get angry at the world sometimes, at everything around me. It is easier to be invisible and dissolve into thin air. But I don’t want that. I want to be part of it. I want to help. I am angry that my homeland is somewhere that I don’t want to go back to. I am angry that I couldn’t have a life in Iran. I miss that. Here in America, some things are still so foreign to me that I want to cry. After all these years, I am still an outsider…