Greener Grass?

::preface:: I'm exhausted.

I fucking hate Heathrow Airport.

Otherwise the trip was cramped but enjoyable considering I sat next to another German speaker and was able to live a bit more of the Experience before exiting the plane and seeing nothing but signs in English.

As I exited the gate and into the main terminal I heard a click and saw my Dad, Nikon in hand, behind the main frosted barrier that keeps people from rushing at their loved ones. Turns out, we both bought the same brand of booze to celebrate my return. We sat up late with CNN on mute and talked about everything and lots about nothing- the good kind of nothing.

The ride home was much longer then expected, but my first real meal made up for it. The vegitable plate at Crackle Barrel consisted of fried okra, mashed 'taters,' steak fries, and hashbrown caserole. Add that to the two fried eggs over heard and you have the perfect southern meal in my eyes. The only requests I had after that were for more sweet tea and butter.

La Bella got her gifts, and enjoyed them, but couldn't enjoy me long enough seeing as jet lag had caught up with me. I watched Proof, and sit now in my humble attic on the old mattress resting on the floor in the corner. I'm missing Berlin like crazy, but at the same time feel beyond happy to be home.