It was a very long trip home with the airport delays.
This year, the connecting flight was in New York, which was no accident. I’ll never forget flying into South Carolina and that utter feeling of culture shock; I had just left one of the most beautiful and cultured cities in the world and entered an airport rife with pro-American propaganda videos and morbidly obese, badly dressed people.
New York is not this way. It’s so close to Paris… in distance. In the rich variety. In availability to the arts.
The next stop was New Orleans. It was a great pleasure to hear the accents and see the familiar things I love: downtown, the adult video sign as you come around the curve on the interstate, Scuttlebutt in Slidell.
And the warm, fresh air.
Since being in Bay St. Louis, I’ve jogged on the beach in 70 degree weather and have enjoyed copious amounts of sun.
And there’s much left to look forward to: time with fun family, fried Turkey, and seeing the friends I haven’t seen in too long. Although this trip is three weeks, it already feels short as I look at the calendar and realize there will only be a couple of days here… a couple of days there…
Moving across an ocean really makes you appreciate the special things where you come from and the wonderful people who will stick by you no matter where your crazy life takes you.