Where am I again?

Sometimes it begins to feel like home. Even though it hardly comes close to resembling home. I am in Saigon at an internet cafe. Speedy and cheap. I am listening to the familiar tunes of Mason Jennings. I am adjusting to the constant noise. I no longer shit my pants when I hear bus horns reverberating through my skull. I still jump out of my skin, but that's better, right? I'm pretty sure about that.

I am in a comfy American Apparel t-shirt that is now sleeveless. I needed another tank-top to battle the heat. I have my books and my journal and familiar surrounds. I am used to hopping on a moto and charging through blind intersections, honking, slamming on brakes, barely avoiding catastrophe, adrenaline surging through my veins. Why don't I have travel insurance?

Feeling good. Perhaps the iced coffee was too strong. My head is a-a-a-a-alive if you know what I'm saying. My stomach is feeling the need for some samosas. Soon, soon. So many updates, so much down time. I love down time. The people are fantastic. Except when they're screaming in your ear at an internet cafe and there's no escape.

I am used to showering in the same room as the toilet and soaking everything in the process. There's a drain and it dries quickly. I am used to the tiny bugs crawling on the bathroom wall. Fortunately they are tiny. I don't like big bugs. I have only seen one cockroach and that was in front of one of the most expensive hotels in town.

What I'm saying is I've finally found a comfort zone and I'm not leaving this one just yet. I'm extending my visa here. I have more to see, more people to meet, more things to do, absolutely so much more to experience. You can wire funds to me at your convenience.

My cyclo driver in Nha Trang sometime this past month.