Going home

I went back to America. Alone.

I needed an R&R from my demanding Russian life. No, that's wrong. Let me clarify. I needed a vacation from being the universe to my family. They are an amazing family but I like solitude. I always have. Even if it requires 37 hours of travel. Of course it should have only been 22 hours, but delays happen and sometimes you pull up the boot straps and sleep in Detroit Metro Airport. You get the idea.

It was my first time being 'home' since I moved to Russia over a year ago. Once I landed in New York, I had a bagel with unhealthy amounts of cream cheese. I may or may not have sighed when I took a bite. When I noticed two women staring at me, I looked at them to explain. "I haven't lived in America for a year and this is my first bagel." They smiled and said, "Live it up, girl!"

When I noticed that five planes were boarding from gate 24 and all of them were late, I realized the day was going to get longer. A man from Detroit, who introduced himself as Ryan, starting small talking with me. Here's how it went.

Ryan: Are you going to Detroit?
Me: Yes, I am. And you?
Ryan: Yeah. It's home for me.
Me: Where are you coming from?
Ryan: Italy. And you?
Me: Moscow, Russia.
Ryan: Wow! Your English is really good!
Me: That's funny because I'm actually American.

If I were this guy, I would have made up some lame excuse about needing to rummage through my bag and walk away. Not him. He was brave. He stayed. In fact, he even invited me to stay at his place in Detroit where he assured me he would be a gentleman. I know Americans are nice, but creepy too maybe?

When I finally arrived at my destination, I had an hour before a hair-cut appointment with my stylist. I made it. Before I had even washed the air travel out of my hair, she cut off 11 inches of it. Yes, I donated it to Locks of Love for the second time. It grows insanely fast in Russia. We have a joke that it's because of Chernobyl.

There's more. Much, much more that I will save for a later entry. This weekend I told some friends about my first visit back to "the States" and they smiled and nodded. "You are officially an ex-pat now. Welcome." Thanks. Glad to be here.