Sunday, December 28, 2008

Across the Atlantic:

Being back in America almost doesn't seem real. I'll have to write about my trip from Amsterdam to the Midwest later on in the week, once I'm finished running around town making the first round of visits to my friends. It's so strange to be back in the USA. Everything here in America is so big. And there's so much space. Clearly my time in Amsterdam has affected me more than I thought. Staring out the room's window, to the Cincinnati skyline below, quite literally mesmerizes me. Just because there is a skyline. People just keep talking to me randomly: at stores, restaurants. Yesterday someone even passed me in the park and said hello. Odd. I'm just so used to being left in my own little world over in Amsterdam. Dutch people just let you do your own thing. That's their society I imagine. But it's so un-American. It is, however, so nice to be back among my family. I've been crashing at my Grandma's. I can't wait to go back out to my parents' house. Where they live, there's just space forever. And topography, too. American food is so unhealthy. I've changed my diet drastically in Amsterdam. I went to the grocery store the other day, walked in, and said to myself–where's the food? Everything is in boxes?! I just don't eat processed foods. All natural. Fruits and veggies for me, please. I've looked at the ingredients on most of the 'food' at a few stores, and almost always the first ingredient is high fructose corn syrup? Why is this necessary to add to food!? Who needs that much sugar in their diet? I don't even use sugar, except for baking. Strange. I imagine it's back to cereal and bananas. I've been on my deathbed all last week, finally tapering off on Tuesday when I had my flight, and now it's finally gone, which means I can start running again! I haven't ran in two weeks, and even got some running gear for Christmas from the family. I, need, to run. It keeps me from going insane, and it'll burn of some of this high fructose corn syrup. Cincinnati is just the beautiful-ist to run around. You run up hills and down steps, across bridges and through quaint tree lined avenues with old brick mansions along the way. I love it. But just being back for less than a week, the people here are just different. I'm not sure what it is. But I guess I do know. Cincinnati is just one big-small city in the center of America. Nothing too exciting happens in the city, and people never leave. They just stay and have babies and keep doing the same thing, generation after generation. Oh, and its citizens, really-really love to drink (alcohol). It seems nothing social ever happens without it. I really do love it here; its place in the history of the American narrative is priceless; its importance underestimated. But I totally know I romanticized it a bit–OK, I admit, quite a lot.

Bring on the adventures around the world.