Things I missed in Europe

I could (and will) write a post about what I loved about Europe that isn’t available in the United States.

But I figured that coming home is a good time to appreciate what make this my home country and some of the little-thing reasons that I enjoy coming home.

  • Not paying to use public restrooms
  • The general disinterest in sparkling water

    This should not be a question. Always still water.
  • The implicit assumption that asking for water means the free water
  • Peaches! Lots of apricot love over there, but where were the peaches?
  • Having the confidence to speak in my natural American accent (my accent is… flexible) (I’ll talk about it later)
  • Seeing another East Asian face and not knowing that he/she was most likely a tourist
  • People not assuming that I am a tourist (… all the time)
  • On a similar note, good Chinese food
  • Cheaper public transportation
  • Cheaper everything
  • Not converting prices into euros or pounds sterling or rubles or krones or kronas

    https://i2.wp.com/picturesofmoney.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/Pictures-of-World-Money1.jpg
    My mental math isn’t what I would like it to be…
  • Bread always coming with butter or oil
  • Portions so large that I felt almost uncomfortably full. Almost. (I am American, therefore I eat and I eat too much.)
  • Not being limited by the number of adapters/converters we brought to charge electronics

This is my list for noooow. I may come back to add more, but I feel like I need to publish before I put it off for half a year. ^^;

It seems like a lot of little, superficial things, but I think it’s often the little things that make you miss home. I am also a bit pre-occupied as I publish this, so maybe something HUGE will hit me later. ๐Ÿ˜›

What do you miss about your home country when you travel abroad?

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Just to let y’all know

I will be writing a series of updates about my trip soon, but I won’t guarantee anything terribly soon because I know I’ll procrastinate.

It was fun but also stressful and I felt cultured but also crass. I missed America and dreaded coming back.

LOTS OF FEELINGS, basically.

Potentially Familiar Face

I noticed you looking at me for a few seconds longer than a random glance warranted.
I found myself looking back for a few seconds longer than a return glance warranted.

He looks familiar.

You were on my radar from that point on. I was always aware of where you were, else I was trying to discreetly take in the sights while scanning for you. I would catch you looking in my direction a few times more, but never with the same kind of lingering glance as that first one I caught, but I would catch myself looking for you more times than I care to admit.

A few times, I managed to stand next to you while we read exhibit placards. I would look shyly at you, but you didn’t seem to notice. I would tell myself that you would look over at me when I wasn’t watching, but…

… most of me is sure that I created something between us and fixated on this imagined bond. That, if anything, you probably feared this girl who you’d always catch looking your way, standing near you in the crowd, failing to hide a smile.

But you looked so familiar to me.

I was mustering the courage all day to try to ask you why. “Hey, I’m so sorry, but you look really familiar, do I know you from somewhere?” Just as I was about to gather up enough gall to approach you, I was called away.
I caught you looking around for someone then.

Why did you look so familiar to me? Maybe I did know you from somewhere. Maybe it’s because you looked a bit like a friend of my brother’s or something. Maybe you just have one of those faces. Maybe I didn’t know you at all.

If I was more romantically available, or more romantic at all, maybe you were a figure from a not-too-distant future. Maybe your face is one that would become so familiar to me in the future that this familiarity permeated time and space into today.

Or maybe you were thinking these things about the guy standing behind me.

File:London tower ravens.jpg
Maybe the ravens know.