A Rambling Review

Old Time is whittling away. Another week gone, so soon?

This week, I had dinner with Adrian, friend of seventeen years, who firmly stated, over braised lamb, that this move to Cambodia was not a surprise. (Really? It still surprises me.) I thanked Adrian in advance for my care packages and postcards. He was right: I will miss English text very much. This week, I also had dinner with Joelie, over juicy pork dumplings immersed in ginger, soy sauce and vinegar, steaming, hot to the touch, the best this side of California. We talked about his criminal law practice, the Thai festival I missed, our friends, our colleagues, the Pacific Northwest, my move, his growing love of southern California and my lessening distaste of it. The curious thing, every time we talk, I am convinced criminal law may be interesting enough to try, someday, maybe, if this international human rights lawyering thing doesn't pan out, or if I grow disillusioned. Then, there was dinner with my sisters and mum, always an amusing affair, with mum asking if I will return to traditional firm life in 2011, asking us about marriage and kids, commenting about this and that, and the three of us shrugging our shoulders in response, muttering something irrelevant before bursting into laughter.

I did not see Jason, Desiree, or Joseph this week. I did not make it to the Getty. I did not try the fancy churros with Jack. I did, however, get poked in both arms, Japanese encephalitis and rabies. Like a baby, I confessed to the nurse that I hated shots and pleaded for gentleness. I was reminded of my dislike of cold hospitals, of their stark walls and unnatural light. I forgot to pick up the antibiotics and the 267 malaria pills prescribed -- I will.

I stumbled upon the coffee shop in Monrovia, the place where I, barely twenty, fell in love, and it was there, as I stared at my returned passport and flipped through the glossy blank visa pages tucked in the middle of the thread-bare booklet, that I wondered where this year would take me, wondered how markedly different life would be.

I had a good week.