Being home again is strange, but only because it isn’t strange. Not really. I do mainly the same things that I always did in Indianapolis, with the faint background knowledge that in less than one month I will be doing these sorts of things and more in South Korea.
There are some things I won’t be able to do. For example:
Take pictures of my sister and the cat.
Sit on my parents’ balcony and watch the summer storms roll in.
But here are some things I will still be able to do:
Drag Jared to see things he is not that into, like statues of leaping deer, then take self-portraits of us.
Until the August 18th departure date, Jared & I wanted to take a short trip to somewhere in the States. After tossing out places like Washington, D.C. (too political), Mt. Rushmore (too far for small reward), Boston (eh – a city), we essentially threw a dart a map and came up with New Orleans.
“It’s hurricane season, you know,” my dad warned us. “That’s why the prices are so low.”
Judging by the city’s past history, I’m certainly not going to dismiss hurricane warnings. But I’m banking on there not being any natural disasters and hoping that the heat will be the worst of our problems.
After all – Cajun food! Jazz! The French Quarter! Crocodiles, swamps and plantations! I’m excited. A new place, in my own country. I’m not sure what to expect or how much to plan in advance, but it looks like we are going to turn up and go from there.
I’ll probably leave the onesie at home, though.