I won’t mention the canceled flights, the overnight stay in Minneapolis or the 9 hour delay in Newark, NJ. I won’t discuss the high amount of obese people rolling around on their automatic wheelchairs through the casinos or the woman in her wedding dress getting a cosmo at the Ghost Bar at the Palms with no wedding party in sight. I won’t talk about the waiter on auto-pilot who was dead behind the eyes and didn’t even register that we were two live beings sat at a table or the man with platinum teeth falling off his chair, or for that matter, the clearly underaged girl puking behind the couch. No use in harping on fact that roads in Vegas are bigger than freeways in England or that the portions thus far have allowed Jock and I to share a couple of meals.

What I want to talk about is how amazing it was to hold my nephew, to hug my mama, to meet my sister’s boyfriend, laugh with my best friend, look into my sister’s eyes right in front of me and relish in my uncle’s company and incredible cooking. Hearing American accents around me still makes me turn my head – you can imagine how often that’s been happening. Oh and the use of a cell phone is miraculous. I can actually communicate and call my friends and family on a whim, for no reason whatsoever, just because I feel like it. That’s a great feeling.

CNN isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It seems America has grown up a bit since I’ve been gone – I say that and then I hear about the USDA official being fired over a badly cut youtube video depicting her as a racist that in no way described what she actually meant.

Oh how I’ve missed the nonchalant chit chat that goes with being in America, follows you to the grocery store, into Terry Fator’s show at the Mirage (absolutely recommend), up the Las Vegas Eiffel Tower and into Yama Sushi. The southern woman who wants to talk about her bad vertigo, the young rocker who boasts about which sushi to order or the old man who laughs at the fact that the margarita he consumed fifteen minutes before is now making its way into his brain (he doesn’t drink much normally). The casual meanderings of the simplistic and genuine American citizen floats its way back into my heart and I can feel myself re-opening up that side of me – transforming back into my louder, more gregarious person (which may surprise some of my English friends that I can become more of that – I didn’t shy away too much). But now its more accepted.

I never thought I’d be so happy to be back. I truly didn’t. The tear I felt leaving France after a year of studies abroad and the yank of incredible reverse culture shock coming back here five years ago was one of the most painful things I’ve ever experienced. Perhaps the difference is that I wasn’t ready to leave France, I felt it wasn’t my choice and that the school system’s decision to make me leave by June 1st felt unjust (even though my visa had ended and I actually didn’t have a choice.). This time I decided when I would leave, how it would happen – it was on my terms.

And the difference also is that I know I’ll be back in no time. Back then, I was a student, unsure of where my next paycheck would come from, let alone how I would ever be able to go back to the way I lived in Paris. Now, I am more settled, with beau and money – how much comfort comes from that feeling alone – for, I am not alone.

More soon. Leaving Las Vegas for Chicago today. Then back to Baltimore. Will update as regularly as I can.

Thank you all for continuing to follow my journey.

VIEW FROM MY LAST MEAL OUT IN ENGLAND, The Ship, Portsmouth:

VIEW FROM MY FIRST MEAL OUT IN AMERICA:

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