And back again

Being home for a week was exactly what I needed. I missed big midwestern sunsets and driving and my mom’s cooking. I swear I did nothing but eat cream-cheese-based foods the entire time, but somehow managed to LOSE WEIGHT, probably because I also ran with my dad every day. Also, I got to see every single person I loved and missed, and it only reaffirmed my belief that I have the very best friends on the planet, so much so that I sometimes secretly pity other people for not having my friends, too.

I also visited the kids I used to babysit for, and they ran up the driveway to me, arms outstretched, just like a made-for-TV-movie, shouting “Sarahbrown! We didn’t know you were coming! We have three snakes now! One is a California King Snake! There’s Blacky Two and Blacky Three! Blacky One got lost somewhere in the house.” I took great care not to sit on the ground while inside.

I went shopping with my mother and bought a black furry hat that makes me look vaguely Russian. I will accessorize accordingly with vodka. I also bought some argyle kneesocks, which I will accessorize with a cherry lollipop and pigtails. Then I visited all of my possessions in storage, switching out some CDs to take back with me, and lovingly touching my mattress and couch and boxes of books. I wanted to wear an orange jumpsuit and play conjugal visit, but my mom was there, so it would have been a little awkward. Also, the storage place plays really loud country music inside, so that totally killed the mood. I pay $104 a month for a climate-controlled unit, and my poor belongings have to pine away for me to the tune of Toby Keith. These are surely the times that try men’s souls.

Yesterday on the flight back to New York, I got some serious motion sickness and threw up, and everyone stared at me but didn’t say a word, and then when I asked the stewardess if I could throw away my barf bag, she told me that the captain had turned on the Fasten Seat Belts sign so I’d have to hold it until the plane landed. That was awesome. Then I threw up again out the cab window on the ride home, and the cab driver got all mad like I was the first person ever in the history of the world to puke out a cab window. I paid him extra so he could wash his car, lugged my suitcases upstairs, and was in my inflatable bed by 7 pm. Today was much better, though, because I spent most of it in my pajamas, listening to the Charlie Brown Christmas CD and sipping Tony’s mom’s famous orange spice tea and watching it snow.

Given the choice, I’m always going to prefer to be on the ground, well-fed, and among friends. I’m just an old-fashioned girl that way.