“Sam:"Okay, what words would you use then?" I leaned back in the seat, thinking, as Sam looked at me doubtfully. He was right to look doubtful. My head didn't work with words very well- at least not in this abstract, descriptive sort of way.Grace:"Sensitive" I tried.Sam translated: "Squishy"Grace:"Creative"Sam:"Dangerously emo"Grace:"Thoughtful"Sam:"Feng shui."I laughed so hard I snorted.Grace:"How did you get feng shui out of thoughtful?"Sam:"You know, because in feng shui, you arrange funiture and plants and stuff in thoughtful ways.”

“Sensitive," I tried.Sam translated: "Squishy.""Creative.""Dangerously emo.""Thoughtful.""Feng shui."I laughed so hard I snorted. "How do you get feng shui out of 'thoughtful'?""You know, because in feng shui, you arrange furniture and plants and stuff in thoughtful ways." Sam shrugged. "To make you calm. Zenlike. Or something. I'm not one hundred percent sure how it all works, besides the thoughtful part.”

“sensitive," I tried. Sam translated, "squishy.""creative." "Dangerously Emo.""thoughtful." Feng shui.”

“How do you get 'feng shui' out of 'thoughtful'?”

“Because, as someone who does feng shui for a living, there's no way I could do my feng shui if I was whacked out on crack, because my business is about discerning energy fields, and if you're cracked up, or on pot, or even if you've had too much coffee, the energy field gets all wonky, believe me, I know used to smoke!”

“I couldn't practice feng shui if I didn't believe in it, and I wouldn't believe in it if I hadn't seen it work.”