Wait, They're Speaking English...

I've had forty-eights hours back on Cape Cod. I've come to the conclusion during this time that there are some wonderful reasons to love being home. A few:

America runs on Dunkin. So a coffee naturally greeted me at the airport. 

The boys. Think this says enough.

Mom left some presents on my bed (including new handmade blanket). Note the Easter basket!  And obvs the newsy magazines are necessary for "cultural reentry."

Reuniting with two wonderful friends tomorrow. Including this girl! :)

Rocky puppy! (No, we don't have snow. This is from winter!) Look at that face...

Beautiful Cape. I can handle this. 

That being said, coming home is really tough. REALLY.

No one is speaking Italian. Yes, this is the United States. But I miss the language terribly. I've totally been messing up and throwing out Italian words left and right to some really puzzled looks. Momentary embarrassment aside, it makes me happy. So I may be teaching ya'll some Italian proverbs or expressions. I know some swears too, although I wouldn't ever use them!

 I don't know anything on the radio. "Call Me, Maybe?" What is this stuff? To which I hear, "Dude, this has been out for months." Thanks, brother's friend!

Guilty of looking at pictures on my Italian high schoolers' Facebooks and tearing up. It's hard to explain, but they were just so willing to be friends. I miss that.

Certain foods just don't taste as good. Namely, tomatoes. Pretty much any produce actually.

I miss being legal...but June 4th, my friends!

Also, boredom. Not boredom in the fact that Cape Cod isn't amazing, just boredom in that I actually know my way around. And I know the culture.

I miss apartment shenanigans. Like hiding the dead stuffed squirrel in each other's closets when someone was gone for the weekend. (But never in anyone's bed. That was just off-limits. We weren't that mean!)

Think he liked it in there.

And the amusement of watching Italian drivers. On our last day in Perugia, we watched this moment unfold from our viewpoint spot. Guy in the blue/black jeep is trying for literally ten minutes to squeeze into that tiny parking space. Never mind that there were other just up the road. But no, he had to take the most complicated one. THEN guy in the lighter blue car drives up to the jeep, and the drivers just start chatting in the middle of the road, blocking traffic. Thus man in the white truck has to practically swerve onto the sidewalk to avoid them. Only in Italy. 

I miss relaxing lunch hours (or three hours. Depending). Usually outdoors basking in the sun.

But most of all, I miss the wonderful people I have grown to call my close friends. Spread out, all over the world. I keep finding myself thinking in "Italy time." What are my people in Perugia doing right now? Are they leaving for work? Are they out on the town, window shopping or taking their nightly strolls? Or sleeping? Are they at Dempsey's? Or at the market? Or on the steps?

At some point, I'll be back in American time. But right now, my heart is still over the Atlantic.