24 hours.

It has been 24 hours since:

Laura showered.
Laura put clean clothes on.
Laura felt like she smelled socially appropriate.
Laura slept well (4 hours on the plane doesn’t count).
Laura had truly coherent thoughts.
Laura was in good standing with United Airlines (I’ve had enough of your delays, big commercial airline people).
Laura was on vacation, basking in and admiring the Asian continent.

Which brings me to now…24 hours later. Señor and I are stuck in the Chicago airport, awaiting our 10pm flight. That’s a whole 6 hours after we were supposed to leave. I could be relaxing in my tiny apartment, curled up in my semi-comfortable bed, and passed out asleep. Not that it would matter because jet-lag will wake me up at 3am. I’m sure of it.

I shake my fist at you, jet-lag!

As you can tell, I’m on my last leg of sanity. Or foot. Or arm…I don’t even know what I’m saying. Is that a real phrase? The leg of sanity? I digress.

Want to see some pictures of my trip? Ok, good. Because pictures are worth thousands of words. And seeing as words are not my forte at the moment, let’s just stick with those. These are some of my last pics from Vietnam.

A marble cave at the top of Marble Mountain. It was a HIKE. I felt like a champ.

At the peak of Marble Mountain. Sweatin’ like the athletes on the Gatorade commercials. Except ours wasn’t colored. Lame.

I don’t know what I love more about this picture. My dad’s expression or the fact that this vase will be displayed in our house in a few months. It’s natural jade from the mountain we climbed. And it’s being shipped on a boat. Like a boss.
One of my dad’s best friends fought in Vietnam. It was his dream to go back someday. Though he passed away without that opportunity, his wife gave my dad his dog tags and we gave them a proper resting place…
…Right in a hidden spot of a helicopter at a Vietnam museum. Awesome.
Lost in translation, much?
Yep. That’s what Americans were called all over those museums.
A pit stop view on our way to Hue (pronounced ‘way’). A Vietnamese version of a pit stop equals a dirty toilet and lots of cheap paraphernalia that most Americans love. No thanks.
Almost took these ones, too. So beautiful.
These were startling. Then I realized they mean something MUCH different in Asian culture. Thank goodness.
I picture this ancient statue saying “Oh no you din’t”. In Vietnamese of course.
Sign: “Do not touch, sit on, or play on the ancient artifacts”
Señor: “Oo! Get a picture of me riding the dragon!”
A few of these things are not like the others.
Naturally I sang the Rocky theme song when my dad came down the steps. I chuckled more than he did.

In a few days I’ll post pictures of Hong Kong. If I took pictures too often in Hong Kong, though, you would have thought that all we did was shop, eat, and shop some more. Which we may or may not have done. So there will only be a select few. But I need to wait another 24 hours or so. Recuperation is in desperate need.




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