Back home.

My working hypothesis on travel is that every trip is two days too long. I was just in the U.S. for about a week, and you'll never guess this: it should have been two days shorter than that.

In my household, we have a saying for if we're ever somewhere we don't want to be anymore. It started when we lived in Glendale, and we'd say get me to Glendale, or GMTG. You may personalize and use this at the end of a stressful stay somewhere or if you're waiting for a train to get you home after a long night. Can also be pretty funny to say right as you land at your destination on a trip. That is free for you to use as well. The point is I am almost always saying GMT_ with two days left on a trip.

The first time I traveled back to the U.S. after moving out of the country, my initial stateside observation was shock/delight at the size of the drinks. Everyone in the Charlotte airport had a two-liter iced Dunkin' drink, even and especially the 14 year olds. (Spell check is on my ass here, but I just can't do litre with this. Spiritually I feel two-liter should be spelled the U.S. way. And that's the last spelling commentary I'll ever do.) Also, I'm lying of course. The drinks were a tasteful 32 ounces, and lest you think I am a MAHA freak: I support these drinks. It just looks funny after a while of only seeing teensy ones.

For this trip, upon landing in the U.S. (in a major west coast city), I was greeted with a headline warning about possible drone strikes on major west coast cities. The pundits of Bluesky said actually no, not possible, so I didn't worry about this – just all the other stuff – but still. Where are the big drinks. I liked when it was big drinks.

I wasn't visiting a place I'd ever lived, so there wasn't a pull or nostalgia for a past life – just a ton of AI startup billboards – but I did still feel like I was in a place that I knew well.

At one point, I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and said to John, I bet there's a Trader Joe's nearby. And I looked it up, and there was, a four minute walk away. This is not some magical feat (you need a vague sense of the socioeconomics and proximity to a business park or two), but I have never felt more American (derogatory) than in this moment of having a sixth sense for what chain stores could be found in a quarter mile radius. This was no Ross/TJ Maxx/Nordstrom Rack/Petco row, and my body knew that.

There are huge swathes of the U.S. I've never seen, but you could plop me down in any place and there'd be a familiarity I think. Plop me in Peoria; I bet I'd get it and immediately sense that they don't even have a Trader Joe's.

I don't have this with my new home, nor would I expect to yet, but I hope I will some day. (But not with, like, the stores. The stores would be something else, probably.)

Anyway, I guess we're just supposed to live forever with a deep ache for every place we've ever lived or been for a stretch of at least three weeks (summer camp! college! da big apple! now here?!). You can't live in all of them, so what's a gal to do? Be present or something?? Okay I'll try!