With the exception of certain moments of punctuated reality, I usually act as if I am still in America even though America is someplace very very far away. But it goes both ways, and there are times where I can—to the degree that anyone in any country around the world can ignore America—ignore America. The trade-off, of course, is having to think about where I am now. Recently I read Sadness is a White Bird. I wrote a review about it too for Full Stop, but there were a few ot