It's weird when I go on a fairly brief trip and after I get home I start *missing* stuff.
I want to wander into someplace and hear someone who is paying just about zero attention to me or to anyone else call out nasally, "Irashaimasseeeeeeeeeee."
I want to watch five passengers AND all their luggage for three days fit jovially into a cab and zoom off.
I want mochi. At least that's what my coworker tells me they are called. The bean paste things.
I want to square dance to someone who says "reft arremande".
I want to get kissed on the head by a dragon.
I want to ride a subway with two full-color flat-screen displays over each door, one running ads and one spelling out the station name three different ways and diagramming how many minutes to the following stations and showing a picture of exactly which cars, in this next station, will pull up next to stairways.
I want prewarmed moist hand towels presented to me before each meal.
I want to watch a couple of friends greet each other, having a brief but animated conversation while bobbing up and down between about thirty and forty-five degrees off the vertical -- never once standing all the way up -- looking happy as clams.
I want to coax a semi-wild cat into letting me scritch him.
Ah, travel. Sometimes I recognize just a few more of the good bits after I've returned home.
I want to wander into someplace and hear someone who is paying just about zero attention to me or to anyone else call out nasally, "Irashaimasseeeeeeeeeee."
I want to watch five passengers AND all their luggage for three days fit jovially into a cab and zoom off.
I want mochi. At least that's what my coworker tells me they are called. The bean paste things.
I want to square dance to someone who says "reft arremande".
I want to get kissed on the head by a dragon.
I want to ride a subway with two full-color flat-screen displays over each door, one running ads and one spelling out the station name three different ways and diagramming how many minutes to the following stations and showing a picture of exactly which cars, in this next station, will pull up next to stairways.
I want prewarmed moist hand towels presented to me before each meal.
I want to watch a couple of friends greet each other, having a brief but animated conversation while bobbing up and down between about thirty and forty-five degrees off the vertical -- never once standing all the way up -- looking happy as clams.
I want to coax a semi-wild cat into letting me scritch him.
Ah, travel. Sometimes I recognize just a few more of the good bits after I've returned home.
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(I'm still a little bummed you didn't wind up at Google, by the way. It would have been cool to be able to see you in person from time to time!)
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(And yeah, I'm still a bit bummed about the google thing too)
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