I go to India in a week and two days, and I am reeling at the largeness of it. I have not properly prepared for such a journey, though I know not what I should've done. I just have to show up at British Airways and go, I guess. Since I have gone nowhere more exotic than Minnesota in years, my brain fears my world being blown wide open. My stomach fears amoebas. My heart fears being apart from Ari for long enough for him to fall in love with a radical who throws bricks though windows because he has so much excess sexual vigor. I'm scared of being with my mom and brother for three weeks straight. I am afraid of being ripped out of context.

My heart doesn't long for the open road. My restless spirit is fine watching Oprah's greatest moments DVDs on my couch.