> tapioca world tour

So it wasn’t 24 hours of travel after all. It was 42 hours of travel, with five flights (Phuket > Bangkok > Singapore > Frankfurt > NYC > Boston), all of which were ridiculous and uncomfortable and could have been avoided by booking us on the same direct flight we took the first time…but alas, some things always remain difficult.

I slept 20 hours straight when I got home. My colleague and traveling companion M., however, was not as lucky: she has little boys, and had a dinner party to attend, and had a class to teach at Brandeis this morning, followed by conference calls on Gulf Coast relief. Being merely the lowly staff photographer, my professional duties are limited to captioning the 1,214 Asia photos I took (not kidding, that’s how many I took), writing more about Thailand for our human rights blog and generally being incredibly out-of-it.

I’m cold again, not really ready to be here or be awake. I haven’t unpacked or anything. I think I might cut my hair, just to shake things up. I’d like to take a vacation, or go on some retreat where they make you cry for days, just to purify my situation, as P. Diddy would say. Oddly, I felt more adjusted to life up there alone in those airplanes than I do here in my freezing dining room. I guess, in a way, that makes sense.