Walking In Wuhan

After hauling eight bags through the Wuhan train station, the Beijing Airport, battling diahhrea at 30,000 feet and a 12 hour flight, we finally made it to Chicago for July 4. Courtney and I battled the jetlag and enjoyed a buffet of Americana -- beer, cooked meat and explosions.

We then made our way to Hillsdale, Illinois, for Seth and Julie's wedding. So, in a span of three days, we went from a city of about 9 million people to a town of about 450. I tagged along for the bachelor party, which ended up being a pretty good time. I looked at the clock sometime around 3:15 a.m. then scanned what was going on around me. We were sitting in this biker bar in the middle of a cornfield. On my left sat a guy from Texas who was wearing a cowboy hat, smoking a cigar and wearing his jeans tucked into his boots. To my right sat a kid from Brazil who was studying to be a minister. In front of me, people were belting Johnny Cash's "Boy Named Sue" at the tops of their lungs between swigs of Bud Light. I clearly wasn't in China anymore.

The weekend was a lot of fun. The ceremony and reception were both beautiful. We met up with my parents at the Quad Cities airport and made it back to Omaha around dinner last night.

With the real world apparently here, a move to California coming in six weeks and plenty of friends to catch up with, the next month or so should be pretty interesting.

Let me know where you're at. I'd like to see ya.