I’m back. It was a good and successful trip, though I’m glad now to be home. The humidity in Huizhou was, quite literally, 95%. Ninety-five percent! Which, basically, means that water is pretty much hanging in sheets in the air. Anything further than 6-inches from air-conditioning was intolerable, and I eventually realized that the reason that I was actually dripping sweat was that it was too humid to evaporate.

Sexy.

Now, in the paradise that is SoCal, I am more thankful than ever to sit in traffic on the 405, pay outrageous rent, and be surrounded by millions of people more beautiful than I am and giving me a complex. It’s worth it.

Since my return, I’ve been watching a lot of the 9/11 coverage. I’m not ashamed to admit that the re-enactments and live testimonies have had me tearing up off an on for hours. Yesterday, it was Flight 93 and interview after interview with the victims’ wives and husbands, describing and, in some cases, playing the recorded voicemails from their lost loved ones. Everyone sounded so calm.

Today, it is recreations and interviews from people in the World Trade Center… some of which who were actually on the floors hit by the airplanes.

Watching it all again, I don’t know how to feel. I’m numb in a way, but at the same time feel horrified, sad, and angry. In a lot of ways, it’s more terrifying now than it was then.