or: Things I Learned in a Week Away from All Yall Lovely People:
I have not only forgotten what used to be mad parallel parking skillz, but also forgotten how to drive like an east coaster. Merging onto Key Bridge was suddenly an exercise in Frogger. Damn, I'm a woos.
My two surviving uncles are exactly like Statler and Waldorf. If you have a Very Serious Function to attend, in which you, by all means, are supposed to be quiet and respectful, do not look the uncles in the eye, because they will lean over and crack a joke and then you will dissolve into a giggle fit, which you have to try to hide by looking as though you are just crying very hard. When, in actuality, you may have sprained some internal laughter-related organ. And then you will cry some anyway, and that is just how this family deals with a tragedy. Oh, and add eleventy-brazillion bottles of booze and forget to drink any water.
My friends have an incredible sense of humor and I've missed them all terribly, especially Culocho, who is not only funny, but super-hosptiable as well, sharing both couch and pug-as-space-heater.
Hello, pulled pork BBQ. And hello to you, mac-n-cheese. Ooo, is that another hot wing there next to the chili dip? And HELLO, cheese grits and grilled shrimp. *snarfle*
The drive from Chicago to Detroit has many more strip clubs than Starbucks. Some of you may think this is a good thing, but honestly, on a road trip, I know I need more latte, less fake boobie.
I am so, so glad to be home.