A Sort of Homecoming

All I wanted was a burger from In N Out. 

My last few days in China were a blur of crappy buses and longing. I just wanted to be home. My adventure was over, and I was just killing time till my flight. After a meal of pig's feet, pig heart, pig ear, some other pig-thing, and potatoes, I set out for the airport. Slept on my backpack for a few hours and I was off again.

My parents greeted me at the airport, waving little American flags. It was incredible to see them again, but twinged by the harsh reality that they were getting divorced. It was like a false reality that I had to keep reminding myself of. But I got my In N Out. And it was so good.

I was jetlagged. I was up for nearly two days straight, in all. I felt out of whack and misplaced, but god was I happy to be home. I spent the next few days just puttering around the house, taking it all in. It still hasn't set in completely that I'm back. Within a few days, I set out for SF for a reunion tour. I hit the city hard, and loved every second of it. Something about the fog and the wind and the people and everything. The culture and the chaos. A breath of fresh air from Hong Kong, which at times seemed all but devoid of anything but consumer culture.

The day after I arrived back in the mountains, I got a bombshell. My mom would be moving out to Tennessee, and I'd be driving her. It would take four days to get out there, I'd hang out for a day, and fly back the next. The day after that, I'd drive to Arizona to work a gig with my dad. And a few days after that, I'd head up to northern California to work a hippy festival.

Things ain't good, but things ain't boring. -Grace Potter