being here

 So, I guess it's possible to be homesick when you're only a few hours away. This is hard. I wasn't prepared to come back to the United States and then be torn, again, from my bed and my friends. I wasn't ready to get my cell phone back and then drive out into rural Minnesota, where I don't get any reception. I wasn't anxious to leave my city again, just at the moment when I needed to be there most.

Apologies to Annie, but it's going to be really tough for me to not be able to spend anytime hanging out with my friends before she comes. It's definitely not her fault, and I don't blame her, but I just need some space to get re-acclimated to life here, and it's going to be weird to go through that process with her.

It's 12:06 AM right now, and I've been asleep since before 6 PM. I'm kind of hungry, and I'm not sure that I wouldn't fall asleep as soon as I lay myself down, which seems good. Overall I still don't think jetlag is as hard to deal with as people made it out to be, but I can see how it would be pretty awful.

Today was Dave's funeral. The pastor's sermon about Dave walking around in heaven was absolutely dreadful, and I hope that it didn't affect my dad too much. I know that, in his position, I would have hated someone blathering on about that if I had just lost my brother unexpectedly. I've gotten pretty skilled at using the drone of others' voices as a background noise for my own meditation, so I was able to do that. I wonder if other people picture death as a green tent. I'm working on a poem about this that will start,

Death is a green tent

He was buried next to Mary Lou, and as we were driving to Garfield Cemetary in the funeralcade, memories of her burial came rushing back. It was like I was reliving her funeral. This is, ultimately, what I think small towns are, these communities that live and die together, and support each other always. I can see how it would be claustrophobic to live in one, but I can also see the parts that would be wonderful.

I just started a blog on blogger.com to post up all my journal entries from India. I'm so grateful that I have those, I'm never going to forget what I saw now. It's all recorded and preserved so neatly.

Speaking of paper, I want to order things from Little Otsu when I get home. I'm not even sure what, or why. I just want to buy things from there. I don't know if my trip to India is making me more materialistic, or what. I certainly hope that's not the case. When I was there, I missed making choices that I knew were environmentally friendly to a certain degree. It didn't seem like there was a lot of support for people doing that.

I want to be back in India, tonight, watching the solar eclipse. I want to travel to its mountain villages and see the sacred sites. I want 4 o'clock teatime. I want The Hindu, Lokmat Times, and the Times of India. I want train rides and the Metro. I want to be back.

In other news, I'm re-evaluating my poetry skills and finding them not too lackluster. Am I talented? Am I alright? I'd like to collect all the work I'm proud of and do something with it before I leave for college.

Speaking of college, why haven't I found out about my roommates yet? I mean, what the fuck, New College? I thought I was coming home to that! It's late July and you still haven't let me know who I'll be living with? This is not OK.

So I guess being in Minnesota makes me doubly homesick, for India and for Des Moines. And I guess I also decided I'll go browse Little Otsu's online store, eat something, and then turn in for the night.

But I really want to see my friends.