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Around the time during which I met Rachel Lim I was also hit by a very good fouetté jeté. The sort of leap that extended a leg to my head and my body to the floor. It was January and Professor Krishnan said I should probably leave class.

While in New York last week, I got to say goodbye to Rachel, hours before she flew home to Singapore. Lounging in her aunt's apartment on the Upper West Side, we admired the sake bottles and counted the number of books on the shelf we'd read. She even showed me the bag of goodies she was bringing home. Tampons and peanut butter cups. No goodbyes, merely a "see you later" and a reminder that I would need her new number once she landed.

I've been thinking a lot about the beauty of our long-distance, supranational friendship. Meeting in a dance studio in Connecticut, we've spoken nearly everyday, trom NYC to New Orleans, from Connecticut to DC, from Oxford to Portland, Oregon. We even found eachother one weekend in LA. Student visas aren't forever, but good writing definitely is. That and FaceTime.

Check out Rachel's "A Field Guide for Non-Resident Aliens", by far the most important piece I've had the privilege of publishing.