The Calm Before...

June 20, 2008
The Leong Residence
Walnut, CA
America: 6:50 AM
Italy: 3:50 PM
Days in Italy: 0

"Alright, I'm gonna go."

JR removes his phone from its charger. I thank him as he leaves. I'm not surprised he stuck with me the whole night; he knows I'd do the same for him.

I really didn't mean to start packing so late. If it wasn't for moving out of the apartment duties I would've...okay yeah, who am I kidding...anyway the point is that I'm done. Finally. I manage to sneak in a power-nap before my parents announce it's time to go. We leave to do some work at the factory before heading over to LAX.

Okay, so not "we," per say. I knock out in the car and the next thing I know I'm waking up to my parents complaining about that piercing, yet apparently ineffective, Barbie-phone alarm of mine. We step into Washington Mutual to exchange my money into traveler's cheques. Despite having explained to her that I already did the same thing last week, my mom proceeds in asking the teller a barrage of commonsensical questions like "can we use these checks in different countries?"

"Yes, mom. You might even consider them checks for travelers." I let out a discreet chuckle at her paranoia. I really wouldn't want it any other way.

Later we eat at a Chinese restaurant in Alhambra. The tea mediocre; the water: tap with an interesting bite; and the spicy shrimp wet with oil. Still, the tofu is seasoned well, and conversation riveting. I had revealed to my mom the hilarity that is the "Beautiful Nail" comedy bit last night, and now she's hopelessly trying to recall lines...

Anjelah Johnson:
"Oh honey, that's why you do not have boyfriend. Long nail better. I do for you, no problem. Only $4 more."

Mom:
"Oh you don't have girlfriend how come? You want long or short hair--"

That's about as far as she gets before all sound is muted by an abrupt, odd feeling in my tummy. It doesn't really hurt, but it feels like it's a precursor to something else. I calmly make my way to the bathroom, very carefully, without explaining, and once I see the toilet...yup...I was right.

Now this wasn't one of those upchucks where your abs tighten and it kind of just pours out of you. This one felt like I was a tube of Colgate Total in its last life cycle, some unknown force mercilessly squeezing out the last of my innards. I hadn't eaten that much yet, so despite my mouth feeling like it was going into labor, the returns were sparse and still distinguishable. Two successful heave sessions and I feel much better. My dad comes into the bathroom to ask if I'm okay. I just turn to him, eyes red and teary, and pitifully utter "I threw up."

"Oh okay" he answers shortly, "just have some tea."

I kind of felt foolish after that. You know how sometimes when a kid falls down and cries, the parents will just pick him up and say "you're okay," and then the kid realizes it wasn't all that big a deal. Haha...yeah. I really needed that little reminder to grow up. When my parents left me later that day, and I continued to my gate, I felt a sudden strength.

I realized I've never been on my own like this.

"Alright, I'm gonna go."