I want to tell you about how unscary the Caracas airport was because a stout red-haired man picked us up and a lovely lady behind the ticketing counter practically held our hand on the way to security.
I want to tell you how crazy smooth all of our airline travel went despite the warnings and expectations to the contrary.
I want to tell you about the beach and how I managed to not get burned despite being the WHITEST PERSON ON THE BEACH. I haven't felt so white since I walked down the streets of Ningbo, China with tall blonde people nearly causing bicycle accidents.
I want to tell you about the deliciousness of cocadas.
I want to tell you about how I thought I was going to be in the middle of an angry bus station riot after standing in the sun for 5 hours only to get on a bus where my friend pretended like she was sleeping to avoid being subjected to the Latin air-lap dance going on in the aisle. Its a true story that deserves to be told in full.
But for now, all I am going to tell you is that lying on my bed, listening to a spring thunderstorm is the best place to be and I am going to go enjoy it.