I'm glad to be home. Don't get me wrong- London was amazing. So much more amazing than I ever could have imagined it would be. It wasn't even really the city so much, but more the people who were with me, that made it so amazing. But that's beside the point. London was incredible, yes. And Houghton was great too. I have enjoyed my months out and about in the world. But finally, ten long months later, I am glad to be home.
I am glad to be back at home, sharing my tiny bedroom in our tiny condominium with my nagging older sister. I'm glad to be home picking her hair snarls out of the drain in the shower. I'm glad to be home doing my laundry in a room that's only two yards from my bedroom, with my favorite laundry detergent, and getting to pick it up whenever I want. I'm glad to be home eating food with salt in it again, drinking Poland Spring Lime flavored seltzer water and Nantucket Nectar Lemonades and eating Greek Salads from the town pizza house with Cape Cod Potato Chips. I'm glad to be back eating dried pasta out of the bag. I'm glad to be able to give myself a pedicure: nail file, nail polish, remover, and Bath and Body Works walnut foot scrub included. I'm glad to be back home catching up on episodes of Glee and watching my roommate's Netflix and listening to Kimbra and Michael Jackson and Kaki King.
I'm glad to be home where we put cream in our coffee and I can go buy cosmetic products at Lush. I'm glad to be home spending nights in my friend's hot tub or around a campfire doing absolutely nothing. I'm glad to be home smelling the smell of wet dog- invading my bed, my blankets, my pillows. I'm glad to be home, following asleep with her curled up under my arm every night. I'm glad to be home doing book inventory for my old high school English teacher, squashing bugs, sleeping without air conditioning, trying to watch So You Think You Can Dance on a TV that doesn't get cable, listening to crap local radio. I'm glad to be home where there's internet access in my bedroom and the sun in Boston beats down on your shoulders and the people are obnoxious and the people are fast and the coffee is plentiful.
I'm glad to be home, where there are always peanut M&M's, but you can never find the hand held phone, and where I can tell you the name of someone who works in every building down the main street. I'm glad to be home where the smell of the salt sea fills the air when it rains and we never run out of coffee mugs and I can hug my best friend and spend all day with him and his freckles and still miss him when I get home. I'm glad to be home where the only thing you can do when you're eighteen is vote and everything closes by 9 and my parents try to impose curfews on me and I'm absolutely dead broke.
I'm just glad to be home.
