Mole cua toi di Viet nam

So my mole is not only magnetic and magnanimous, but it is also marvelous. It is marvelous due to its recent travels to the other side of the world in Vietnam. I will share with you the journey so far:

Day One (Sunday/Monday):

1. Arrive in Hanoi airport and take a cab through the crazy streets of Hanoi to the Indochina Hotel One.
2. Check in at Hotel and SLEEP :)

Day Two (Tuesday):

1. Enjoy a delicious lunch with the Arthurs at Thuc Don
2. Taxi around the city visiting famous monuments
3. Long Bien Bridge
4. West Lake (Ho Tay)
5. Ho Chi Minh Mausoleum
6. One Pillar Pagoda
7. Van Mieu (ancient testing center for Confucious scholars)
8. Went home and slept

Day Three (Wednesday):

1. Visited Halong Bay- one of the most beautiful natural wonders on earth
2. Came home, ate at La Place, and then, currently chilling in the room

The Magnanimous Mole

As time continued, I grew up, moved away, then returned to my childhood residence. The role of the mole was hurried in its quest to meld the paths of fate and destiny. This was no ordinary mole. It was not idly resting on my foot. There was purpose, meaning, and magnetism.
You may be wondering where such knowledge comes from. Well, objects of fate tend to reveal themselves in their own time. In my case, there was nothing of the contrary. Let me share with you how my object of fate exposed itself.

It started with a boy (I know this sounds cliche, but we truly cannot control fate.). I fell in love, like boys tend to make us do, and it was wonderful. It was clear early on that we collectively embodied a high level of compatibility, but it would not be until one discovery that our compatibility was exemplified.

His name was Daniel and he so has the whole Prince Charming thing going on. Tall, dark, handsome, talented, perfect pearly whites, and the hair and body of a Greek demigod. Obviously, the list could go on and on, but the most important of all of his attributes is found if you move from the crown of his dark hair down the curves of body, down his right leg, all the way to the arch of his right foot. Yes! I said the arch of his right foot.

Fate revealed itself. The mark was not selfishly resting on my foot. His mark was not selfishly resting on his foot. This mark was a magnanimous mark. It was there to bring us together.

The Mysterious Mark

I grew up under the belief that I was just as normal as the next person. I played like the other children; I brushed my teeth like I was supposed to; and I drank my milk, but only while wishing to swim in a sea of chocolate. Though my character followed the common American child mold, I couldn't help but think something was different.

That "something" was something my small, dark headed, capricious self would discover at an early age. This qualifying factor that would one day set me apart from almost all of humankind could clearly be spotted on my body. It was there for the world to see! Well, if they looked hard enough for it. Even as a child this "something" could be seen if you traveled from the crown of my head, down the ridges of my face, along the curves of my arms and legs, right down to my delicate, impish, right foot. Yes, I said my right foot and only my right foot. I can't count the number of times I sat on the floor with my leg contorted in such a way that I could bring the arch of my foot close to my eyesight. There, I could zone in on the mark that rested in place. It was in place on my foot like the North star in the heavens.

For years and years (probably more years than I could count), I would sit with my foot to my eyes in bewilderment while staring at the round, dark brown mole on my arch. Questions poured from my inquisitive childish mind, "Why is it there; did I step on something unmentionable; Does God know about this; Why isn't there one on my left foot; and am I the only one with the mark?"

Eventually, I accepted this strange spot and, by accept, I do not mean giving it a name or a place to leave its shoes over night. I gave up on the questions. It was a matter of fate. I, Mary Elizabeth Goff, was designed to have a useless, meaningless, earth-colored mark on the bottom on my foot.