Anticipation and Continental 87

I am somewhere over northern Russia, but I can't see the country below. For a flash, I envision the Huns chasing Mulan over the mountain passes below. Far less perilous is reality; the inside of the cabin is dark, thick, and subdued. I can't tell if it is day or night outside. Four hours remain of my flight, I have watched four movies, and I've slept for 6 hours with the assistance of original formula Dramamine.

It is strange, but sitting in economy class for 14 hours is preferable to my desk at work. Self-actualization = I may be a variety addict.

I am en route to China. It is my first visit north of Xiamen, and my first trip alone. Already I'm feeling stirrings of anticipation. The boarding process illicited memories of my former China experiences as the Chinese travelers amased near the gate with no consideration for cues and the boarding clerks made announcements in beautifully tonal Mandarin Chinese.

I do feel a slight apprehension about whether I should have checked a bag after all. The complexity of organizing myself with all my bags in a way that allows me to walk at a normal speed and fit through the customs line may not be worth the assurance of having my tooth brush when I arrive. Only time will tell.

Cordially,

Varietolic