Homesick, for the first time . . . ever?

I'm not sure what that just was. An interesting take on flour tortillas, something made with black beans, tortilla chips, sour cream, awful but not unintelligible guacamole . . . what else? Some sort of Chinese-style rice, unseasoned cubed beef, chicken of the consistency of jerky drowned in oil, lime and orange juice with some vinegar, some sort of chinese inspired carrot, squash and onion stir fry . . . the list could go on.

It went under the name of Mexican food. And there were sour cream and tortilla chips and some hybrid between a tortilla and something else. But I'm just not sure exactly how these dishes were translated on their way to Singapore--or how to aptly describe them. Especially the salsa--of which there were 4 or five very mild, very vinegar-heavy versions--that, in one case at least, looked like salsa mexicana.

Maybe it's because I spent the morning booking a ticket to Hawaii and rearranging another ticket back to California. But, I blame it squarely on the bad Mexican food ordered for the meeting just now. Now I'm not the only Californian in the office--but I think that Chicago or Arkansas is probably the next closest home. Maybe no one else noticed: the Australians and English certainly didn't.