Initial Shocks

Five minutes into the American Airlines flight from Tokyo to Chicago two stewardesses began bitching about some passenger in first class that didn't speak English. Nice. The woman behind began blabbing in a voice ten decibels above normal speech about inane articles in the shite magazine provided. I usually prefer to read my articles, especially if they're craptacular entertainment issues on the breakup of some Hollywood couple I probably haven't even heard of. Immigration procedure at O'Hare, two sections, residents and visitors. Five million people in the visitor line, most with connecting flights. About five in the resident lines...yes, that's right. I said lines, plural. WTF? Some burly cop starts yelling at a guy that, again, doesn't speak English, because he forgot to hand over the airport pen provided for customs forms. Are they really more concerned with material possessions (pens...which isn't much of a possession) than safety? And when, in the course of this past year I've been absent, did it become a federal law that every person who walks about the country must speak this language? I missed that memo.

Wasn't a good start to the homecoming, but it's good to be back...in a way. I no longer have to cook for myself, waste eight hours a day at a desk or bow as I enter stores, but I have to be careful about what I say. I've grown used to yelling out obscenities whenever I desired, as I knew no one understood. Now, I'm just that girl that bows when entering stores, avoids eye contact and yells "fuck" when the record store doesn't carry any Mingus.

Much has changed...just can't seem to delineate outside change from personal change.