I continue to be in a daze.
I was extraordinarily hyper at the airport–perhaps screaming was not the best way to say, “Hello R. How have you been? I have missed your presence”–but psychotic overreaction is my forte. At some point I calmed down and decided to get out of the airport before saying goodbye to everyone. Goodbyes are a bit too awkward for me, and they mean things are really over. If I don’t say goodbye, I’m not really leaving. Despite that logic, I am nevertheless in Brookings.
I had Mexican first thing upon getting into town. It left me shortly thereafter. Yesterday afternoon I had some amazing Italian (though tiramisu from Italy still wins), and it is trying to exit. I feel nauseous and feverish, and I’m not sure if it’s from stress or re-adjusting to American excess. I haven’t thrown up yet, and I am starting to feel better. The stomache is still gurgling.
I bought an electric tea kettle at Target yesterday. Oh, yeah, Mom, sister (she came from Wyoming to see me!), and I went to Sioux Falls… the nearbye South Dakotan metropolis. I bought too many DVDs at a used CD store (I heart Huckabees, Rules of Attraction, Aqua Teen Hunger Force Season III, and Before Sunrise. I also bought Virginia Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own. Sure, I might not know exactly what Oxbridge is, but I can still identify with her descriptions of quadrangles from my visits to Oxford. I can still identify with her feminism from my time in Memoir.
I hate the blank stares I get when I mention Jess or Jill. There is emptiness in response to Cindy and Amanda. I want to flirt with Debbie. I want Mike to haunt my life, not my dreams. I went into Hot Topic yesterday, because Camden Town and street markets throughout Europe weren’t enough for my bad taste. My sister was looking at Napoleon Dynamite sheets, and I asked, “why’d you want to sleep with Greg?” “Why do you want a shirt with Greg on it?” There was some shirt about “Don’t trust a man with a moustache.” SWINGER!!
My sister has banned me from saying, “Can cat’s touch you’re ear’s?” Oh well. I think I would be doing better if some friends were actually still in town. Emma is here, but I cannot see her because she is sick. Everywhere I look I swear I see someone from the programme. I keep hearing English/Scottish/Irish accents, and they make me smile but increase the void.
I have just discovered a stack of mail from the past year my mom has kept for me. My sister purchased a Teen Vogue subscription for me… Er. Now I know all about cute swimsuits and the best bags and sandls.
I saw Star Wars yesterday. It was good but not great. Putting Hayden Christiansen and Natalie Portman in a room together creates a black hole of suck. Perhaps George Lucas’ scriptwriting is to blame.
My “unpacking” so far has meant throwing all my shit on my floor. My small floor (my room back home is about half the size of my dorm room… and has no balcony). I need to get things sorted. I need to stop saying “cheers” and “sorry.” Maybe the hyper active service industry of America isn’t so bad (Why are they checking on the table again?!).
I went to Perkins last night. They’ve remodelled. Country Kitchen hasn’t been bulldozed… it’s being dismantled piece by piece. The half destroyed structure seems like something from my dreams. I went to Brookings’ new Super Wal-mart… jesus christ. Buildings should not be that large.
Coming to America after time abroad is like a big half-price sale!
I have four pounds and ten pence remaining. They shall accompany me on cold nights. I don’t know what else to say at this point. So long and thanks for all the fish?
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