Today Rick and Marilyn and I went to lunch at a place that really scratched where I itched: a soup and salad buffet. It was great. Ceaser salad, fresh-baked bread, and giant bubbling kettles of soup, like clam chowder and hamburger-macaroni and corn tortilla and all that. You don't realize how much you miss soup and salad when soup means warm chicken stock and salad means "cooked with garlic in oil."
I sat down here at this computer as Rick and Mariyn sleep in the other room. Strange sleep schedule since I got off the plane. But suddenly I felt uneasy, because I didn't have a class tomorrow or a lesson to prepare or any kind of schedule or order to my life. The whole thing in Zhanjiang is really over, and somehow it being over feels like I've lost something, something I didn't even know I had. I guess it's strange when China and class are the only constants for a year, and then suddenly, they're just gone.
Aside from the slight postpartum depression, it's good to be back in America. Los Angeles is a strange place and it doesn't feel like home. I'm living out of my suitcase and I still have one more flight ahead of me. But it's a good time here out west, Hobbes 'ol buddy, so let's go exploring.