Home?

Finally, on April 23rd, the airlines were opened and we were able to weather the storm of volcanic ash in the atmosphere and fly home. The flight was an emotional roller coaster. I was so ready to be home but I was already missing my London. It was nice to see familiar faces on the TV screens in the airplanes, but our flight attendants had ugly, Chicagoan accents. I missed hearing the British accent everywhere.

Being home at first was pretty weird. I felt like I had gone back in time, or like I had never left. I knew I had been away because I had all these fantasy-like memories of someplace called London. But my closet was full of winter clothes and everything seemed to be exactly the way I left it which caused me to think... maybe it was a dream? The best dream I've ever had in my life, if so.

Less than 24 hours after landing in Des Moines I flew out to Houston. I spent my first week at home relieving jet-lag and babysitting my cousins. One night I took them to Burger King and saw an older couple wearing matching plaid shirts and white cowboy hats. I saw some young men wearing mis-matching shorts and t-shirts. I missed the stylish men and women in London.

In this transitional stage of my life, my dreamy-eyed, youthful imagination is making plans to apply for internships in London in a couple of years. Maybe one day I'll get my citizenship there. We'll see where life takes me.