20 days to go

The days are hot... and we've been spending many hours in the public pool, playing with Kenny's new camera and trying to pretend that the lukewarm water helps us forget that it's over 100 degrees outside.

It also helps me forget that I've got twenty days to go now until I move to vietnam. I'm gettin excited. I'm gettin scared. Why excited?

• well, I get to be on an airplane again. that's always thrilling at first.
  
• also, it takes a bit of bravery (I'm pretty sure) to grab a suitcase of one's belongings and say "that's it, that's all I'm taking with me! Screw the rest!"
  
• and who am I kidding, really? it's exciting to just be the type of person who can honestly say "I'm moving to Vietnam. Today. Right now."
  

Why scared?

• well, holy shit, have you seen Lost?? Airplanes break! They rip apart in midair! They fall down, hard! and even if my plane doesn't fall from the sky, there are all sorts of things that are less than pleasant awaiting you on a plane: germs, dry eyes, varicose veins, feet swollen to twice their normal size. Yuck.
• also, what if there's something I need when I'm there, that over here I have in abundance, let's say tampons, or American-butt-sized underwear, or something, that I don't realize I need? This isn't a fear, so much. Let's move on to the real fears:

1. Real fear number one: once I leave Kenny, he won't be able to find me again (this is silly).
2. Real fear number two: upon arriving, I will appear so tired and dishevelled that my employers-slash-host-family changes their mind and sends me home (again, really silly).
3. Real fear number three: I won't do a good job.

There is it. I found it. The real reason I'm feeling nervous. This usually happens when undertaking a new job. You make yourself out to be the Perfect Applicant, completely sure of your abilities to do all that your new job will require of you and then some, and of course you land the job. But then you start thinking about all this new job will entail. And you think, Oh My Lord. I know that M is 8 years old and X is six. These are ages I've worked with before, with wonderful, laughing and hugging results. But. What if these kids are really hard to get along with? What if M is really shy and doesn't want some strange girl hanging around him? What if I'm not girlie-girl enough to know all the appropriate french-braiding techniques that X requires? What if they had a really skinny au pair before me and they think I'm an American cow who doesn't warrant respect enough to listen to and they run away or lock me out of the house or something??

Um, or: the kids are just regular kids. we get along fine. they parents think I'm doing great. Kenny finds a wonderful living situation in a safe neighborhood with at least one person who can speak both english and vietnamese. the family let's me out once a day for a yoga class/cheap massage/language lesson. And the year flies by and I lose weight and gain a foreign language and come home with lots of presents for YOU. You know...

it's almost as much fun to imagine all the good stuff that might happen. :)

So, all neurotic ramblings purged for the day, let's make a list. I like lists, they sooth me.

Stuff I still need to do before I'm ready to get on that plane:
-buy medical insurance
-pack goodies and treats for the kids
-stock up at a drug store all hygienic products that I think they might not sell in HCMC (my favorite shampoo, toothpaste, razor cartridges, etc)
-repack my suitcase and weigh it
-find someone to take over my effing verizon account so i don't have to pay $175 to break the contract
-tell my parents that I love them

Guess that's really it. I can do this. This will be fun. And for those who don't know, I'm publishing pictures on flickr, words on here. Thanks for following along.