I can see my Grandma from my house! And other news from America.

I really can see my Grandmother from my driveway.
They live right next door.

My homecoming was preceded by my final week of legal drinking and adventure time in Denmark.
Free beer and entry at clubs and bars were taken full advantage of and my final baby bites and pastries were devoured.
I was also lucky enough to spend the day at Tivoli with my host family. [Tivoli is the H.C. Andersen theme park located in Copenhagen. American theme parks are dirty, ugly, and completely pointless for the elderly or easily nauseated people who can't enjoy the roller coasters, Tivoli is not this way. Tivoli is beautiful gardens and classy restaurants with tamer rides and better snacks. No, I'm not getting paid for this obvious endorsement. But I should be.] 
And I FINALLY made it to see the Little Mermaid and did a canal tour.
Those classic tourist moves only took me four months.

And then I was packing.
Which took a surprisingly short period of time, probably because there was little to no decision-making to be done, and was merely a matter of throwing the shit I brought with me and the little bit of shit I acquired into large suitcases and praying that they weren't overweight.
And by the grace of God, Allah, the TSA, or those magical little traveling gnomes, neither bag was overweight.
And once the security guard at the Copenhagen Airport meticulously checked my hipbones after I set off the metal detector, I was on my way home, and it was smooth sailing.
I landed in Michigan, full of airplane food (although, not nearly as full as the Dutch guy I flew next to who devoured every single crumb on his tiny, tiny tray of shitty food), and absolutely exhausted.

Landing was overwhelming.
Exhausted (I'd only slept two hours the night before and didn't sleep on the plane), happy(AMERICA), sad(leaving Copenhagen, and I SUCK at goodbyes. I may or may not be a bit emotionally stunted in that department), and a little bloated(from the above-mentioned airplane food), I wasn't sure what my reaction was going to be when I was retrieved at the airport.
So as I stood, staring at the revolving doors that would take me into the American air, pondering how to get all of my heavy, well-packed possessions out there...a woman came up behind me and politely asked me if I needed help with my bags.
That's when I screamed, tackled the woman, and started to cry.
And then I got arrested for assault but there were no charges pressed....
No no no, I kid.
The woman was my long-lost best friend, the beautiful and world-changing Grace.
And after our nine month separation, hers being the first face I saw in the land of the free was perfect.

And here I am, sitting on my sofa with my parents, the dog forcefully snuggled in the middle, watching television, and pondering the fate of my summer, wishing someone would pay me to blog, or pay me to eat, either one really.

But this people, is where this blog finds its resting place.
It's been a hellofa semester and blogging about it was an experience I would willingly repeat, and am considering repeating during my senior year in college.
A big thank you to those of you who read this blog, regularly or irregularly, out of obligation of familial relation or friendship.
And if there are any readers who I've never personally met, mad props if you've been reading this the whole way through.
And to everyone, HOOK A SISTA UP IF YOU'VE GOT ANY CONNECTIONS THAT WOULD LET ME DO THIS FOR A LIVING.
Or just some for some spare cash to pay for things like school books, etc.

And keep a lookout.
I'm kinda addicted to this blogging-thing.
So I won't be offline for sure, I'm sure.

For the final time, and with only one time zone...
10:00pm USA