103 to 96

Well, it has indeed been a long time and although many of you pestered me to update while at home, I decided that things like quality time with my cat, sleeping in my sister's bed, and driving back and forth from Ann Arbor 40 times were more important. I have no regrets.
I have flown across the ocean twice. Give me a break.

Now, the Table of Contents, as I pretend to be organized
1)going home
2)being home
3)leaving home, Round 2
4)being back in good ol' F-burg
5)my sweet map and bag! oh golly!
6)the future. the visitors. oh help.

Now, getting home required basically every form of transportation known to man. Had I been asked to ride a camel for a portion of it, I would not have been surprised.
I said goodbye to Freiburg and took the 9 AM train to Frankfurt, which wasn't too painfully early. Around 11 we pulled into the Frankfurt am Main main train station which is this hulking mass of glass, steel, and moving bodies. I had been told by several people...several AMERICANS actually, that the train station would be directly attached to the airport, but as soon as I saw the size of this place, I began to worry. No one would put a train station that size next to a gigantic international airport in the middle of a city.
So, I looked for 'Flughafen' signs, couldn't find any, and panicked. 2 hours til I was supposed to be in the air. I scurried over to a group of nice looking businessman and stammered out a few questions. Luckily, these guys told me exactly which platform to go to, what time it came in, and then they all told me to calm down and wished me luck. Hey, maybe every Frankfurter knows exactly which platform takes people to the main airport (103, by the way) and what times it comes, but I was fairly impressed.
Turns out there is a train station attached to the airport, but not the main one. Well, that would make sense.
So, after a bit on the subway, I was at the airport. Some friendly guy named Timo helped me with my bags and talked with me about zoology for a bit. Then the guy at check in flirted with me. The customs guy flirted with me. Then I took not one, but TWO buses. The first to get to my terminal. The second to get to my plane.
Once I was actually physically on the airplane, I felt a thousand times better. I spent the majority of the flight chatting with a 16-year-old guy from Bavaria, named Sildi or Shildi or something interesting. He's out of school, already working as an auto mechanic, and doesn't remember any of his English. He was going to spend Christmas in Detroit with his father whom he hadn't seen in 12 years. I was also more nervous than he was, which I found odd.
Once we were flying over Michigan he kept saying "Let's keep the plane going to LA". I told him that'd take 5 more hours and he said "Yea, but in a car."
I think that comment made me laugh so hard, apple juice shot out of my nose, but I can't say for sure.
Ohhh, child.
Once we were finally in Detroit, I had to wait for my bags and go through customs, which was torture at that point because I knew my parents were so close. I also wanted to fall asleep on the luggage carousel, which I don't think would have gone over well.
But, I made it through, and my fan club (minus my bratty sister) were there to welcome me back.

Now, being home...
The biggest shock for me was that nothing had really changed, other than all of my parents changing their diets. My dad and step-mom are now hardcore vegetarians and my mom and Earl...I think they made up their own, cuz I'm not really sure what's going on, but good for them.
I basically settled back into my life at home, even though there were certain thing that hit me out of left field.
For instance, paper towels, dishwashers, garbage disposals, sheets, pita bread, pita chips, anything with pita, REFILLS...
Those are just the things that are coming off the top of my head, but you can get the general idea. I also most definitely did not miss having to share a bathroom with my sister and my mother and having everything I own scattered about in gigantic piles. I'm sick of my parents thinking I'm some slob but if I have a space in which to sprawl and organize my things, I'm good to go.
August is going to be awful for that. I'm going to get back, crying and missing Germany, and then realize everything I own is unorganized and boxed up. Bleech.
Ok I'm making home sound like hell, which it definitely was not. It was wonderful to be around the people I love. I got to eat at my favorite restaurants. I got everything I wanted for Christmas and I think the gifts I gave were well received. I got free J. Alexanders with Molly. I got to kick my brother's butt at Scrabble. I got to drag race on I96 in my dad's car.
Ok that last one may or may not be true.
New Years was spent in Ann Arbor with my best friends at UMich who showered me with hugs, questions, and inside jokes. Sooooooo nice to see them. I'm very excited to live with them all next year.
At the party I had a lot of "So how was running away to Germany? You happy to be back? Where are you living now?"
Psh, sir, you think I would do that SEMESTER stuff? Childs play.
Really, I can't think of much else to say about home. It was nice to be back where I'm used to things. I understand America and how it works. That was kind of comforting, but really what was nice about being home was just seeing people. When it all comes down to it, Germany and America are very, very similar. There's nothing that I absolutely need that I can only get in the US and not get here. Maybe Grade E beef.
However, I don't have my family here. I don't have my friends here. I don't have Skit here.
That's what I loved about being home, which was to be expected.

Alright I could ambitiously dive into 'leaving home, Round 2' but I have choir in an hour and before that I have to drop Sonja's sleeping bag off in Vauban. Going outside is also like stepping right into a tornado. I can't really complain, because at this time of year I'm more used to blizzards. But it's doing dreadful things to my hair.

Off to brave the elements.