I have found that I am quite unlike most people I know - I am not thrusting myself back into Singapore, possibly because I am jetlagged and it is sweltering outside. I've discovered that I am quite content to sleep the first week I'm back and recuperate, slowly easing out of my initial sense of strangeness in my home. I think living overseas seems like something that I would really like to attempt, and its something, I know now, that is not quite so frightful or daunting.

I'm not trying to sound ungrateful but I don't particularly want to fly off to Spain right this day - I wish I had that week to slowly turn into a root vegetable. I greatly enjoy that sort of evolution, in which I can soak up many episodes of Buffy, my newest season dvd of That 70's Show, and the Ian McEwan book I stopped reading during winter break that seems a lot more interesting this time around. Either way, I suppose I can't prevent what's already been planned - so hopefully I'll get to wear nice outfits in sunny Spain, pretend to speak Spanish, or at least be pleased that I can vaguely understand what people are saying, try not to let my silly family annoy me (i'll read a book and be zen i guess), eat tapas and paella, write letters, write in my new little Moleskine notebooks, and take lots of pictures.