Ah, June. You devil of a month. It seemed like only yesterday you were beginning, and now like that tickle in the nose that doesn't quite become a sneeze until it seizes you unexpectedly hours later, you're swiftly yawning your way to a close. Yesterday was the end of May, and it was going to be a grueling crawl until finals came around and I started to pack. And now I give my second final tomorrow, the entirety of my possessions here in China are neatly packed in two small boxes, and in just over a week, I'll be on a plane back to the United States.
I'm excited to go home. Indescribably, really. I realize my life has followed a pattern of fairly frequent change; months at school, a summer; jobs taken up and left behind; even when it was years of school on the same campus, things changed: people, classes, apartments, friends. China has certainly been a change, but it's also been a constant: an uninterrupted year of being in The Same Place, more or less, even with a month of traveling to break it up. So I need a change, a proper change, and going back home will be so perfect.
I leave China June 30. I'll arrive in LA also on June 30, and I'll spend a week there with Rick and Marilyn. I can't wait to see them, to talk with them and write with them and eat the In-N-Out Burgers I've been lusting after with them. And then July 6, it's back to the east coast. Back to family, back to friends, back to driving and dairy and good beer and real food and set prices and public anonymity, back to a language I can understand.