Returning

Going home is weird.


On the flight from Narita to Seattle, despite there being many English speaking flight attendants on board, I chose to talk to the Japanese one. (Mostly because I couldn't remember how to ask for anything properly in English.) I thought, "I'm going back, so might as well speak Japanese until the last possible moment."

First thing that hit me when arriving into Washington was how blunt, and almost rude, people seem at the airport.  I went from hearing everything in polite, formal Japanese in Japan, to "Take off your shoes, you can't have that, take your stuff and go, and we have a random!" I freaked out, could only think of Japanese responses, and had a panic attack. I had gotten so used to Japanese people and how they act, that the way I had remembered things was so different; I was shocked.

I felt much better once I had made it back to Oregon, where I know my way around and the people seem to be more pleasant. It helped having my mom there as well.

Coming back to my house was such a strange feeling. It feels almost like I haven't been gone, but I know I have missed so much. I haven't even bothered with my phone yet; I can't remember how to work it, and it stresses me out with so much other stuff going on right now. (Haha)

I went to bed at 9:30, thinking I had the upper-hand on jet leg. I woke up at 3am, wide awake.
You win this round, jet lag.

This is going to take some getting used to.