Where the wild things are

I've been home for a hot second now, and already my list of "things I missed and thought I could never live without and am now devouring" and "shit that annoyed me about America before I left and now drives me batshit crazy" are about equal.  Who knew?

Anyway, I'd prolly bitch no matter where I was, so take my complaints with a grain of salt.  I'll stick to the positive for now.

I am glad to be home where there's decent beer(!), drivers understand the concepts of lanes and traffic laws, my vocabulary consists of more than 'hello', 'thank you', and 'can I have more beer', staring is considered rude, avocados cost 88 cents, walkers and cyclists aren't in a constant state of drunken swerving, I no longer need to talk and gesture wildly to get a sad representation of what I actually wanted, sandwiches, oh sweet sandwiches, diversity is the norm (even in Idaho!), the streets don't smell of hot shit and the water doesn't make my hair fall out, I can see the mountains everyday, good sex, and, most importantly, my friends and family, who are prolly already tired of listening to my stories, but who listen patiently nonetheless because I brought them gifts and they have to.

Surprisingly, there are more than a handful of things that I didn't even know I missed.  Like greasy teenage boys on skateboards and middle-aged men with big bellies wearing white socks and sandals and mom jeans and road rage.  I really missed the road rage.  Korean drivers are krazy and no one seems to notice.  On more than a handful of occasions I wanted to roll down my window and flip the bird to all the offending drivers, but alas, I was usually in a cab and it would prolly be considered poor form...

More later.  I gotta eat me some Mexican.