At Home

Well, I've been back home now since December 3rd and I've pretty much done nothing. I managed to surprise my mom on her birthday which was on December 3rd, the longest day of my life. I got off the plane before I left. My sister came to pick me up with her roommate's dog. Then we drove to the restaurant where they would all be eating. "All" meaning my parents, my sisters, and my grandma. We got there and were walking to the door when we see the other sister driving past in her car, then my parents. Luckily, in Edmonton, it gets dark at like 3pm in December so they didn't see me.

When we walk into the restaurant my mom is right there talking to the hostess. She turns around and looks right into my eyes and then starts talking to the hostess again. One of those mindless looks where you aren't really seeing. Anyways, she doesn't remember and was surprised to see me home 2 days before I had said I was coming home.

From that time on I did absolutely nothing until maybe the 20th of December. I just remember having trouble adjusting to the time difference for pretty much that whole time. Getting tired around 8pm and having to force myself to stay awake until a respectable time to go to bed. I saw a movie called Just Friends, I think. It was definitely not worth the money. I also saw Syriana which was quite a bit better.

Aside from those terribly interesting things. I was at home doing even less interesting things. Watching TV, eating food that was easily identifiable, doing x-word puzzles and what not. I really don't know what I was doing those few weeks actually.

I always hate coming back home. I magically revert to my teenage self and feel like I've never left at all. It's an awful feeling really. I just look at the calendar and think, hmmm another x amount of months have passed, where have I been? what have I been doing? I mean, I know what it was that I was doing but as soon as I get back to Edmonton it feels like it never happened. Like I had been in a coma for months or stepped into some time wormhole. So all of the sudden, all these things have happened to other people and I've just had a dream. It was a really nice dream, well Wonderland not so much, but it didn't really happen. I'm just all of the sudden older without anything to show for it: some photos, passport stamps, and memories of things that no longer seem real.

I think I'd make a really good spy. I mean I'd be able to pull off any nationality and I'm only able to concentrate on the present. Nothing else feels real to me. So I could be reborn as some diamond merchant in Amsterdam, some scientist in Chicago, or an industrial engineer in Buenos Aires. Well maybe I can't pull off those professions but you know what I mean. I could go there and only know those lives and places. I'd have vague impressions of having been other people in the past but where I am at that moment, the person I am at that moment, would be what defines me.