Saturday, April 26, 2014

January 2nd : Dear Diary

On New Year's Day, Pauline and I left South America after three years of backpacking, working, and backpacking some more. By the evening, we had left LAX, our first stopover, on our way to Asia, a continental first for Pauline, and my first time back since my ignominious crawl through Beijing's airport ten years earlier.

While not as exciting an entrance as my previous exit, our trip did have a short moment of interest in the middle. Right in the middle. Right around midnight, we crossed over that quiet, oft-forgotten, crooked little line called the International Date Line. And so, the 1st of January in a blink became the 3rd. The 2nd vanished, never to be reclaimed.

I was never really partial to the 2nd of January as a day. No holidays or birthdays come to mind. It's generally a lazy day falling between the holidays and the beginning of work or school. But like the newly robbed, blind, or amputated, you appreciate those things much more after they're taken from you. Granted, my yearning for the 2nd of January was never as strong nor as long-lasted as the limbless'. It lingered about a week into January and faded. Come on, who really cares about the 2nd of January, even if it is excised from your year by the cold and Pacific date line ?

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