I just got back from France yesterday. So if any of you were wondering, "where the heck are my random feet?" the answer varies. Randomfeet was taking a little summer break from the computer, and your random feet are secured to the bottom of your legs. HAHAHA Oh lily, you just get funnier everyday.
Now that I have stopped talking to myself, I will continue on to express my utter confusion while entering the states once again. Let me take you back to entering the airplane. I got into the airplane at 10Am (France time, 4Am NY time) and La di da di da sat down in my coach seat, anxiously awaiting the time I could spend hours (eight to be exact) doing absolutely nothing important. And by that I mean watching television, movies, playing elephant memory games with mr. I love peanuts, and listening to Hindu music. The plane took off and I did exactly that. But what was so strange was feeling like it was only midday when I got out of the plane (the time it was in NY). In France however it was 6PM. Maybe doing absolutely nothing all day tricked my mind into thinking 8 hours was really only two?
Anyways, I get into the car. My dad has turned into an excited wilderness explorer monkey while I was away. In the back trunk thrives a forest of bamboo, squashes, and pretty flower things. Followed by vegetables, and of course the juicer isn't in the car, it's in the apartment. I hear him talking about Pennsylvania (the house we are fixing) in the background while I look ignorantly out the window.
Thoughts leaving my head like, "Did that person just say thank you very much, or am I imagining it?" "Look! Shiny yellow car!" "Oh my god, that sign is in ENGLISH." "Where'd my baker go?" "ENGLISH?"
When my dad handed the tunnel lady a 5 dollar bill I stared at it like a lost child.
"Can- can- can I see that?"
My dad handed me a one dollar bill to play with. I couldn't help feeling like it was only truly a piece of paper that had a picture of an old guy on it. I missed the shiny color money from France.
Later I walked around and felt really weird. Everyone was speaking english. I was so used to having to use my brain when listening to people, only understanding about 85% of what they were saying, that when I heard "YEAH, YEAH, OKAY SEE YA... OHKAYY BYE." I felt like I was out of place. I felt like I was on a block with a bunch of people that go home and sing, "BLA BLA BLA! BLA BLA!" If that even makes sense. Is it really bad that I miss people gracefully speaking like french milk? "Oue, oue, d'accord. A demian, salut!" Or entering a store and hearing, "Bonjour"'s everywhere. Or understanding someone in french and telling them where the madeleins where (which, by the way, TOTALLY happened.)
I was a tourist for a month, and then coming back to NY felt like one all over again. I mean, imagine if I go to France for a year, I'll come back to the US and actually may be out of my mind.
EVERYONE SPEAKS ENGLISH HERE!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHH GET ME A BAGETTE OR I WILL HURT YOU BADLY. WHErE's MY FLAMMAKEUCHE?????