O say can you see, by the bar’s early light

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As promised, I will recount my adventures in the good ol’ US of A. If I had to sum up my trip in one word… Gluttony isn’t the right word, but it’s the first word that comes to mind. Before I left I had a conversation with my dear friend Kyle, who has been in China almost as long as I am. 

Kyle: “So what’s the first thing you’re going to do when you go home?”
Me: “I think I’m going to go to a grocery store.”
Kyle: “OMG! If I was in an American grocery store… (long salacious pause) I think I would just grab stuff off the shelves and sit in the middle of the floor and gorge myself.”
Me: “Dammit! Why’d you have to say that! Now I’m going to be so tempted.”

While I managed to hold it together and not appear more desperate than Hillary Clinton, grocery shopping was by far one of the most exhilarating experiences I had in America, along with baking. Or just putting anything in to a stove, really. 

My first stop was Chattanooga, where I promptly drove the car around for about an hour before I got really bored and decided that driving is totally overrated and cheap cabs are way cooler. I stopped off at a BBQ restaurant with my mom and realized after we ordered that the wall was dotted with “The South Will Rise Again” paraphernalia. Then I saw a bumper sticker that pretty much sums up the South. “Don’t Blame Me, I Voted for Jefferson Davis.” Appalled (and ashamed that I’d already ordered), I ate with disdain, trying hard not to enjoy the succulent pulled pork sandwich and sugarhigh-inducing sweet tea, but to no avail. They might be racist and Republican, but those Southerners sure know how to make some tender pork! And, consequently, fat people.

In honor of my lifelong love of leg warmers, I also attended a concert by an 80s cover band appropriately named “80s Enough” in Chattanooga. While their versions of Rick Springfield and Corey Hart were dead on, an announcement at the beginning of the concert put a big, dark rebel flag over the rest of the night. “We’re sorry our bassist couldn’t be here tonight. He’s up in DC protesting against abortion!” This announcement was met with a rousing “YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” My best friend and I looked at each other and immediately decided that we were heading to the bar that was attached through the bathrooms and not giving any of our money to these… these… these Bush supporters! I apologize for swearing. And later we made fun of the guitarist for drinking O’Douls. HA! 

Being home also reminded me of two very important things. My mother is the best cook in the world. She cooked me both a Thanksgiving dinner AND an Easter dinner. She really knows the way to my heart is through my stomach. Fantastic. I also found out that despite the fact I’ve matured in to what has been called “a real person”, I still cannot behave in church.

After a week of incredible jetlag and feasting in Chattanooga, I headed up to DC to see the old college buddies. While this could take up a large chunk of this posting, I am just going to sum it up by saying some things never change. While this is comforting when thinking about my closest friends, it’s also disconcerting… I am fairly sure that the next time I see the majority of my friends will be on Perez Hilton as they jump in to paparazzi shots with La Lohan while doing their own stint at rehab.

I also went to Chicago (it was a whirlwind tour) to see my grandfather, aunt, uncle and cousins. I hadn’t seen my dad’s brother’s family in what must have been four years. It was strange and simultaneously awesome to see how much all the cousins had grown up. I also met my 80+ year-old grandfather’s new live-in girlfriend. Which was also strange yet awesome. I also learned the hard way that Chicago has a kick ass nightlife.

Overall, a great trip with great family and great friends. It’s good to know that I’ll always have amazing people to come back to when I decide to leave the Orient. Loves to all.

 

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Tags: BBQ, Chattanooga, Chicago, Coming Home, DC, Family, Racism, The South