Good Morning, Good Bye

So my procrastination got the best of both of us and we did not start packing until mid night.
Any one who has ever watched or helped me pack would surely confirm that I am not the fastest or most motivated packer on the planet. I'm easily distracted.
Generally, I just hate doing it.
People quickly give up on helping me and opt for a few extra hours of sleep instead (again this is usually started at an odd hour of the morning on the morning of departure), which is probably in their best interest anyway.
There was laundry to be done and programs to be downloaded (so I can keep writing in this blog via China as well as update Facebook so no one goes into mass hysterics).
If you ever go to China, I recommend StrongVPN.com. They have 24/7 online chats which helped a lot. They even do Virtual Private Networks for the iPhone, too. Which is nice if I happen to find Wi-Fi when I am out and about during the day. It is $60 for 6 months, which really isn't bad. Basically a VPN works as if you are set up on your own wireless network. So, even though I'm in China writing this, technically I happen to be writing from an IP address (an IP address is like a locator, it is like the caller ID of the internet) that I believe is actually based out of San Francisco. You want the alternate IP base to be as close as possible so your connection is as strong as possible. They defaulted mine to San Francisco. Most of the high class hotels in China, like where yours truly works, do the same thing. Theirs are usually defaulted to a Singapore IP address. So I guess, and hope, it isn't illegal if a big place like an Intercontinental Hotel is using them.
That was your tech lesson of the day, I hope you enjoyed it.
Moving on.
So, yeah, packing isn't fun.
It still hadn't hit me yet, though. Don't forget, I still haven't slept, so I just want to be finished. I also really want the Rice Krispy Treat cereal before I leave, so there is added incentive to finish with time to spare.
Can I just say my heart melted when he picked up the purple rice krispy treat cereal box that day in Wal Mart? I hate the blue box. No one wants rice cake cereal for breakfast, damn it. Frick, I wish I was home to have some right now.
And waffle crisp, too.
Or cinnamon toast crunch.
And apple jacks.
Corn pops..
Golden Grahams.
Sigh.
Enough with the salivating. I guess I will just enjoy this banana (frick, I always spell that wrong, that god for spell check). The bananas here are really small. And I would love to make a joke about Asian bananas right about now, but I'm going to keep it PG around here. Or at least try to.
No promises.
So after separating everything that is going to China from those that stay and essentially vacuum sealing 6 months of my life into space bags that are contained within 2 suitcases and slightly large carry on duffel and my trusty north face backpack for a personal item, I felt small again.
This was it. The contents of my life for the next 6 months in 4 bags on the floor. Yet, I felt so unprepared. "I haven't been this scared in a long time and I'm so unprepared."

I haven't really done my homework on living and working in China. Surely I was forgetting something.
I looked at my watch and it was 4 am.
20 minutes to spare.
The perfect amount of time to eat rice krispy cereal.
And so we ate.
Very quietly.
It was the most solemn meal of my life. The *Snap,* *Crackle,* and *Pop* were louder than we were. They were basically a surround sound system on steroids as far as I was concerned.
All I could think was, how did I get here?
This isn't really happening.
I was in serious denial by this point.
We loaded the car very quietly since most of the world was still asleep on what was for them, just an ordinary Monday morning. As we drove, I somehow treated it like a normal car ride to go on some other local Californian adventure, picking my favorite songs from his iPod to listen to as I watched neighborhoods go by. I couldn't bring myself to cry or be upset.
This wasn't really happening.
So we got there and parked and roamed around the garage until we stumbled upon the elevator to get to the train to get to the terminal (how complicated does it really have to be?). With each transfer we got on with business and leisure travelers who would only be gone for a week or so. I know I looked like the bag lady to them.
I'm leaving for 6 months!
At this point I had regretted not making a sign to wear so people would stop staring. I knew soon they would be staring again, even after I had my bags checked, when we said good bye, but I pushed that from my mind before I teared up.
This isn't really happening.
We made it to the Air Canada counter somehow and got in line with all the other Asians that I would be sharing my Vancouver layover with. They were going home. After all the asians I had seen at the Grand Canyon and some at Yosemite, I couldn't help but wonder how their trip to the states had been.
Had they enjoyed it? Was it the time of their lives? Did people stare at them? Did at least one of them speak English? Was their head hurting from so much foreign language like mine did in Paris at the end of everyday spent thinking, speaking, and reading at a higher level of difficulty and therefore more effort? How grateful were they to go home where the food and language are familiar? To see their friends and families again and share their pictures and stories.
More importantly, how would I answer the same questions in December?
The boy was getting quieter so I knew he was getting more and more upset and having a harder time containing himself. We both knew he was going to be more upset visually, I tend to hold these things in until I'm alone.
We finally approached the counter and I began my first Asian encounter of the day. The first of a string of encounters that were all very rude and demeaning. Every Asian that works in service, at least in the airline service is pretty much the equivalent of someone that works at the DMV.
Same. Service. Standards.
Clearly.
I was so happy to walk away from the counter, half saddened that something didn't happen. I was sure my passport was going to show up as a misidentified criminal or my flight was actually the day before and I missed it. I even checked my e-mail really quickly to see if the hotel changed their mind about having an intern anyway.
Nope.
So we walked just before security and sat down for a really hard 5 minutes that easily makes me cry, sob really, now that I'm alone in my room writing this, but that I used all my energy to keep from doing there.
This was it.
He was the last person I would see and hug before leaving everything I knew. The last familiar face that knew me as a person and who I was before I became the foreign intern girl 14 flight hours away. It is tough to leave home when there are so many people that you love and love and care for you there. My aunt once asked me why I felt the need to do this, people loved me at home, why couldn't I just stay with my own?
And for the first time, I agreed and wondered what in the hell I was doing.
Yet, in the back of my mind, I had already signed myself on and I couldn't stay long or I would miss my non-refundable flight to a job I had already signed a contract for.
So I glanced at security as the line grew and as he noticed, he handed me 2 sealed cards, "to be opened on the plane." In return I dug deep in my backpack for a necklace I had made 2 months earlier. It features a heart on the state of TN where Memphis is by Brooke Medlin, check her stuff out here.
And that was it.
He broke down and I felt like an asshole.
(sorry my rating just went to PG-13 I think).
But, I did. I couldn't believe I was doing this to all my loved ones. I'm so selfish. What a prick. All those things I'm going to miss.
Weddings.
Births.
Birthdays.
A graduation.
My friend is even leading a sermon in August, can you believe that?
All the other accomplishments. My friends and family are so amazing. They do so well for themselves. I couldn't ask for a better group of people to surround myself with and as I watch the love pour in on FaceBook and on this blog, I can't help but feel a little worse.
All of that within 2 seconds of thought.
I wanted to give them all a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek, because I love them all so much and am so grateful for each and everyone in my life.
I don't deserve any of them.
But, time is a demon.
And I was forced to move on.
We hugged one last time and I walked away as soon as we stepped apart. If I had stayed a second longer, I wouldn't have gotten on the plane and I knew it.
I would have stayed. Stayed in California and found a job at a hotel. I knew I could nab at least a supervisor position in the city. I could do that with a week or two and have my own apartment within the month. And spend my weekends having Californian adventures and get ready for the next big adventure 6 months down the line. And have Fenton's ice cream every other night. And C.R.E.A.M. ice cream sandwiches every Sunday.
I could have a real life. The ones everyone else it getting.
I could settle down and be happy.
I never looked back. I couldn't bear to see his face and what I had done. I felt so heartless.
I battled my tears all day, but from the stares, I know it was evident anyway. I sat by the window on my first flight with no one in my row. Since I knew the Shanghai flight would be full, now would be a better time that ever to open the cards. I bit my lip to the point of blood to keep from breaking down in sobs and reminded myself how exhausted I was so I coaxed myself to sleep, breaking only for Orange Juice.
Somehow, I had still yet to fully understand what I was doing. I was just tired at this point. My layover was quick, only long enough to get one last venti (gotta go out with a bang) caramel frappecino from Starbucks.
Although, one of the first places someone showed me when I arrived was a starbucks nearly adjacent to the hotel, ha!
I found my place on the plane and this is where people really stare just as they did for Paris. A girl traveling alone on an international flight? Really?
Trust me, they all stare. Be they Parisians or Asians.
Needless to say, as I tackled the second and third set of mean service industry asians and the rest of the day alone, I was growing less and less fond of this trip. My frustration and loneliness growing to a point of near tears, but, I couldn't let them win. No one was going to see Madison Sites cry on account of them.
I settled in quickly and tried to sleep despite the stares as once in a while someone would turn and look. I was only asleep for 30 minutes.
I decided to catch up on some reading of "Hard Sell," a mediocre read.
On flights like these, as in this long, the light system at the roof of the plane changes colors. They work like a new internal clock that essentially ebbs and flows with the sleep cycle they want you to have, a quiet red for when the plane is settled and most people begin to sleep. An hour later it changes to purple, an in between before blue, as people begin to wake and work on some things, and blue for eating.
I'm not sure if everything flight is like that outside of Air Canada, but that is just as I noticed it. It is a good strategy to maintain control.
It makes me feel like Wall-E. You know, the people that live their entire lives in that chair and eat out of a milkshake cup? Hopefully this video is a quick reminder, the internet would only load the first 9 seconds but it seemed to be what I was looking for. Knowing my luck from second 10 on is Wall-E style porn, which just moved my blog rating to R. Frick.

Yeah, that was me.
I sat. I slept. I woke up to have meals served to me on a plastic tray. I watched TV as I ate them (for those of you that have been telling me, yes, The Big Bang Theory is hilarious and I love it). And listened to the new Snow Patrol CD, Fallen Empires, on the TV system (GO GET IT!) while I read or wrote in my journal.
I felt like I was on my deathbed. I was being given inputs just to keep my body alive until we made it to China. But I didn't feel alive.
I felt sick.
It hit me after my first nap.
This was it.
I was going to China. Where I don't speak the language. I don't know the history. I don't know anyone. I was going to work in a culture I was unfamiliar with.
They were going to hate me. And I was going to hate myself.
Can I use the emergency exit? Just drop me off here before we finish passing these random islands off Alaska, please.
So this was my 12 hours of flight summed up.
Sleep. Wake up. Realize where I am and where I'm going. Fight tears. Read. Eat. Watch TV. Write. Repeat.
When we arrived, I got off last as usual. I prefer to sit and wait and watch all the people standing up and waiting just to go wait to get their bags.
I got to the bathroom to change into my suit (if you are nice and they have the room the attendants will let you use their closet to hang a suit jacket), and use the dry shampoo, face wipes, wisp, and travel perfume that I was quickly thankful I had so smartly packed and I was ready to go without any tearfest battle scars evident.
Much love.