Fine. I'll think about it. And cry.

So, I'm going to Kazakhstan. Now that I'm in Washington, D.C., that reality is much more in-my-face. It's been quite the day. I got in one more (much shorter) run with my dad before my parents and I drove to Denver. During lunch there, I managed to dump bbq beef brisket on my shirt and pants - perfect timing, since there's a chance I won't see a washing machine for years. No better time than the present to perfect the art of hand washing clothes, right? And I got in a bit of practice closing the flood gates of tears. Unfortunately, I can't say this is a skill I always possess. Say one word to me, and I could burst out in tears. I figure, I'm leaving people I love, places I know, and surroundings I (normally) understand. Bawling is ok. Thankfully, initial goodbyes seem to be the toughest. So for now, no Kleenexes are necessary. I'll let you know if that holds true over the next few weeks.