So it’s been a quiet few weeks over here at Colleen Gets Lost since I’ve come back to the U S of A.
I still haven’t written about Berlin, Copenhagen, London, Prague, Rome, Tuscany, or Venice, but I might get around to it eventually.
About a month ago I flew from Amsterdam to Boston and worked my way north to Vermont and south to Washington, D.C. before flying back to my starting point in Los Angeles just this afternoon. While on the East Coast I had the chance to catch up with plenty of family and friends, eat all the foods I’d been missing, and slowly adjust to life back in my home country.
And it is my home country. That’s the important thing I came to terms with. Standing under the looming columns of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C bundled up against the November cold, looking out toward Capitol Hill and the Washington Monument I got a little choked up and a little voice came up out of nowhere to say, “This is home. You’re home.” Not that particular city, but this particular country.
I’ve never been patriotic, and I’m still not very, not at all, but I think I can handle life here now, tune in more to the good, try to drown out the bad. We don’t have everything figured out here, I wouldn’t even go so far as to say this is the best country in the world, but it’s a pretty cool one and it’s home for now.
Now where exactly in this large country my home will be is yet to be determined.
There was no doubt in my mind, as my sleek space-age-interiored Virgin America airbus with purple backlighting landed at LAX, that LA wasn’t it.
I knew I’d know it when I got here, and I know it now, a single effortless realization. Nope, this isn’t home. Not this city, not if I can help it.
This was a part of the journey I was and wasn’t expecting. I didn’t think I would NOT want to be here so badly. Maybe I’ll feel differently after I meet up with old friends for drinks and have my first taco in over a year, but something tells me I’ll be moving on elsewhere sooner than I know.