This Lil Piggy Cried "Weee" All The Way Home.

I have officially arrived back in the States following epic European vacation that kept me laughing and pale for most of the summer. I am now wandering around the house in boxers and a tank top because the AC seems non-existent and summers in The District are miserably humid affairs. Fantastic. I feel jet-lagged, exhausted and broke; something akin to the moment when you are finished torpedoing down a water slide and have slammed out feet first into the waiting pool of diapers and piss. Terrific ride, but wtf am I now standing in.

Returning home after a trip is always an interesting lesson in habits. Despite all of the things I've learned and experienced, the moment I stepped off the airplane at Dulles I felt all of myself clicking back into place. If Departure is the sound of a cruise ship's horn, then Arrival is the creaking snap of a body realigning itself into a comfortable groove. And my DC groove is one of powerful addiction.

While riding the bumper people transport from the plane to the terminal, I twittered, and facebooked status'd my exact whereabouts and thoughts. I checked my email on my mobile for the first time in a month (it felt dangerously glorious), and hungrily read about town hall meetings and healthcare. (well, shit). As soon as the people transport latched into the terminal, I powerwalked to baggage claim with my haughty little swinging pigtails. After waiting an HOUR for my luggage because the "conveyor belt broke", I yanked my bags off the belt with determined clumsiness and stared down the elderly Indian man who attempted to help. I maneuvered my bags through the Customs line the same way I drive my lil 'Tegra, and inserted myself between a family of four. The man and his trolley of luggage were left stranded in my wake, while his wife and their two boys continued on in front of me. I paid no attention and continued angling to cut another family off until Dad nudged me with his backpack and gestured that "he was with them." I sneered. A family wanting to hold hands through the Customs line. How pedestrian and adorable.

Truth is that I'm utterly crankypants at the notion of being back. My head - captain, oh captain - has regained total control and is now issuing orders to the rest of my body with the traditional authority. All of the seriousness of life has come rushing back to me in a flood of bills, law school books, health care forms, and full-length mirrors that tell me I'm too ugly/skinny/fat/or freckled. Vile glass. I hope you shatter so hard you can't even seen your own face.

Despite the re-fastening of my body into its old mold, I'm determined to strive for more. It's the dawn of new things, and I want - desperately - to paint change into the life I have ahead of me. So. Let's begin. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Currently Listening: Daniel Merriweather - "For Your Money" & "Change" (ft. Wale).