So last Tuesday night at around 10pm I finally get off the plane and find myself walking back into America.
This room still makes me feel a little sick.
Coming out of the Arrivals gate in Terminal E I get interviewed for the Channel 5 news. "No, I'm not really worried about terrorism this travel season. Are you?" Wes meets me at the terminal and we drive back to Somerville. I realize I don't have my backpack and laptop. We drive back to Logan. The backpack is locked in the Swiss transfer desk office. I have to get it the next day. We drive back to Somerville. And I walk into an apartment at 106 Hudson Street that is not mine for the first time since May 2005, and man, it's weird.
The kitchen's the least different. "EuroCharlie" is still on the fridge.
My couches, recliner, dining room table, coffee table, ugly TV stand and fishtank are all still there but otherwise the place belongs to someone else. The rugs are all gone. There are dozens of bookcases everywhere full of DVDs. Four hookahs set up on a stand in the living room. Tons of crap is in the kitchen. Apparently one of the new guys downstairs owns some serious stuff.
Who knew suckerfish grew up into leviathans?
Wes has of course completely redone my room upstairs. The railing has been removed from the staircase. All of the German vocabulary stickers are finally gone. A huge HDTV is installed on the wall for all his videogames. The fishtank is dirty as hell and all the fish are dead except Gabrielle, one loach and the two kingfish. Pretty much what you'd expect. At least my Photo of the Day I'm Going To Die is still on the wall. I head out for drinks and meet up with TD, Meg, Steve, Lodge and Cohen and close down the Joshua Tree.
That night I sleep on the couch and wake up jetlagged at 5am the next morning wondering why the hell I'm there. "You don't belong here." Head over to the Galleria to get my cell phone turned back on, and am furious to discover that AT&T has given away my old cell number to someone else. They give me a new one which I'll keep for two weeks and then, as Amy said, burn like in some spy movie. Head out to Logan and get my backpack back, meet with Jess briefly, then dinner with Wes at some huge new restaurant that serves poutine just across from The Joshua Tree. Who are apparently assholes. Later pass out again on the couch. Next morning back awake again at 5am.
This place is in Davis?!
Thursday morning I head to South Station and take Amtrak south to Kingston, RI, where the parents meet me at the station. So great to see them. It's been four months and feels like it's been a year. We catch up over lunch at a cool little oyster shack on the water then take the ferry out to Block Island.
Since then a four-day snowstorm with 85mph winds has been raging outside, making the roads mostly undriveable. Spent a lot of time down at my brother's seeing him and Marcy and the twins. Went for a three-mile walk last night just after the sun went down. Rarely have I ever been that cold. Absolutely loved it. Called a taxi last night to get a ride to Club Soda. Response from all three of them: "Fuck off. Have you been outside today?"
I've missed home.
Comments