Take me home, country roads

If you've been to Bangkok, you see these monsters every day. They roam the streets of the city and swallow people along the road, depositing them all over the country.

Well, I was swallowed by one of these monsters last night. Outside of a KFC, I might add, so that I could renew my visa in Laos.

Sounds innocent enough.

Well, around hour four or five in this cramped minibus, with my Filipino cohorts singing bastardized versions of John Denver ("Country rose, take me home to the place I berlong/ Wess Verginieeee, mountain marma..."), I realized that I would rather be ANYWHERE else in the world.

In particular... home. Instead of shivering under that air conditioner, balled up in the back of a bus pretending to sleep, I could be in my nice warm bed.

I could be cozied up under my frayed turquoise blankets, listening to the cracks and pops in a Johnny Cash album while Maddigan stole more than her fair share of my twin mattress.

A winter chill would come through my paper-thin window and make me turn up my electric blanket and I'd rearrange Maddy so she fit perfectly in her little corner. I'd fall asleep while the record was still turning and know that I was where I should be.

OR, I could spend my night trying to explain the difference between "volunteer for a Catholic organization" and a "missionary." Yeah... that sounds better.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to get a few hours of sleep before my night of Laotian food, Beer Lao and not-so-silently crying myself to sleep.