Ky Tran - A bit of everything

I've heard the word homesick many times before, but I never truly understood what it meant—until now. I miss home. Even though I'm adjusting to this new place, I still carry memories of the one I left behind. I guess homesickness comes when you’ve made a lot of good memories in the place you once called home.  

 Have you ever had to stay completely quiet in the house while someone was sleeping? Trying not to make a single sound, yet still needing to get things done? I’ve found myself in that situation a few times over the past few months. Honestly, it’s not too bad — I’ve gotten pretty efficient at it. Maybe I really am mastering some kind of ninja skill.  

I really enjoy summer rain. It cools everything down after a hot day and makes everything look a bit more peaceful and romantic. The sound of rain is so calming, especially when you're inside with a cup of coffee or tea. One of my favorite things is sitting by the window in the afternoon, just watching the rain fall. It's such a relaxing way to spend some quiet time. Of course, it's a whole different story if you're the one stuck outside. Then it's less "peaceful vibe" and more "why did I wear white today?" So yes, summer rain is beautiful—as long as you're not the one running for cover like you're in a slow-motion movie scene!  

Over the past three years, I've attended quite a few weddings, and I genuinely enjoy the experience. Why? Because it's like watching real-life romantic movies—each couple shares their unique love story, and they all end with a joyful “happily ever after.”  These moments not only warm my heart but also give me a chance to reflect on my own love life. Being part of someone’s big day is a beautiful reminder of love’s possibilities, and I often walk away having learned something new to bring into my own relationship.  

I'm in the middle of packing up my things, getting ready for a big move. It’s exciting to think about what life might be like in a new city—new routines, new people, new food to try. A whole new lifestyle is waiting. But ... before all that excitement kicks in, there's the exhausting reality of boxing up my life, piece by piece. Sorting, packing, lifting—it’s draining. I guess these are just the growing pains that come with stepping into something new.  

I remember the days when buying something meant it was truly yours—a CD, a DVD, software. Once you paid for it, you owned it. But those days are gone. Now, everything is a subscription. I get the perks—updates, support—but still, I miss that feeling of owning something. There was a kind of security in it. These days, it feels like I’m just holding on, knowing it could be taken away anytime.