Three, two, one.

One week from now I'll be on my way home.
Two weeks from now I'll be getting on a plane bound for Washington DC.
Three weeks from now I'll be landing in Shanghai.

It's strange that I know when I'm leaving now. I'm hesitant to get excited or even be optimistic about my job. Everything that can go wrong already has, so it's difficult to be anything more than indifferent to the whole situation. I can't help but hope that it will all be worthwhile once I get there. But until my passport is stamped with my Z-Visa in Washington, I'm not letting myself believe that it might actually work.

Round two of saying goodbyes is bound to be uncomfortable. I cried a lot for the first go of it, but this time around I think everyone will just be happy that something is moving and working in my life. After weeks of bumming couches, coffee and lunches, it's somewhat of a miracle that I still have friends after the circus act my life has been for most of the summer. However, it's my friends and family who have kept me from going absolutely crazy through it all.

For now, I'm trying to pay my friends in food. I learned how to make homemade pasta last week, so I've been making a lot of rustic Italian dinners (by rustic I mean ugly pasta, I'm not so good at cutting straight lines). I also tried my hand at cedar plank smoked tuna at my brother's house. Despite soaking the plank, it erupted into flames right about the time the tuna was done. So rather than smoked, we had flame-licked tuna.

For now, my adventures will be solely culinary in nature. I better appreciate it though because before I know it I will be sling-shot into a strange and fantastic life.