The American dream is a big lie. Let me rephrase that. The American dream is fame and Hollywood. If you want to be a big-shot millionaire, that’s where you should go, Hollywood.
But I don’t want that dream. I don’t want fame. I want my writing to be famous. I don’t want to a pretty face on a stupid magazine cover. I want money, but I don’t want to be rich because of fame.
If I can’t have my dream, then I don’t want anything else.

Sitting among 23 women in a small, tiny dress room is quite scary. These women are preparing for their Nepali performances. The event is for the Nepali New Year, which is now 2063. I’m here to see G perform her dance. She’s a great dancer.
The mothers are painting their daughter’s faces with blush, foundation, mascara, and all the other extra crap that goes on the face. They don’t look comfortable, wearing the heavy jewellery and the multilayered outfits. Some have to wear Saris. The Sari is difficult to wear; it has many layers that go in certain directions. I watch a woman put it on but I can’t follow her quick hands.
So I’m sitting there on a chair, staring at all the bright colors of pink, red and yellow. I love how colorful the dresses are. If a person were to come in, he would easily spot me because I have absolutely no resemblance to those women. I’m wearing a black coat with a sweater underneath, no makeup, no hairdo, simply natural. But I’m happy because I’m pretty comfortable.
I realize then that women can be quite annoying. They talk incessantly the entire time and I’m beginning to feel a headache.
Finally the room is quite. I think they are tired of talking. They look beautiful and their beauty isn’t fake. They have so much talent and motivation that I feel incompetent among them.
One by one, they leave the room. I’m left to stare at my unkempt self in the mirror.

S and I talk about our big dreams. She says she is a dreamer with reality checks. We find out that we have more in common than we thought we did.
I’m hungry the entire time. She buys me a big cookie and we keep discussing our dreams and fantasies about seeing the world. Then we have to get back to studying the effects of global warming. Who cares about global warming when we have our futures to talk about!
By the time I finish eating my cookie, we both realize that we’re dreaming a little too soon. There are still things to do before we can head off to live our ideal lives. So we settle a smaller, more affordable deal. Maybe a short trip to Chicago. We can have a small adventure and taste independence. You have to start with small steps to live the “real world”.

Despite our big desires, needs, and our endless thirst for more, there are times that simple things like a Starbucks drink become enough, become satisfying.
Lately I’ve been hungry more often than usual. I cannot stop eating. I want the cookies that I always avoid. I want the chocolates that I try not to look at. I want big pizzas and I don’t care for calories. But I’ve been hungry not just for food, but for dreams too, the dreams ones I’m too impatient to get to.
I was very impatient earlier today. I was not myself, and I really mean it because I know who I am by now.
And I just had to have a Java Chip (another word for a chocolaty drink with lots of cream and calories) with my friend Nura.
I don’t know if it was the delicious Java Chip or the blue dress I tried on, but I became satisfied. I stopped whining. And I forgot about London. I forgot that I am dying to see what’s outside of Virginia, that I’m dying to live in New York and write. I forgot and I’m still satisfied.
Maybe we just have to give it time and let things rest for a bit. Sometimes a little thing like a good drink helps. And sometimes it’s the friends who listen and know the right things to say.

Two boys, between the ages of 10 and 11, are fishing. What an easy thing to want: a fish. Right now, a fish is satisfying to them. Once they get older, they’ll want more than a fishing pole. They’ll need more; they’ll ask for more.
I wish I wanted a fish instead of big, intangible dreams. Big dreams cost more. They weigh more and take more time. They make us insatiable, more than we need to be.
The boys continue to throw their poles in the lake. There is still no sign of fish.
If catching a fish is a possibility, then maybe bigger dreams could be too.
Can we catch bigger dreams? I think we can.