The long, long, long journey home

I arrived at the airport on Thursday morning just after 4am, having not been to bed yet. I can honestly say that was a day I was not at all looking forward to. Not because I didn't want to go, but because of how long it was going to take to get there. On Tuesday night, I had had a dream where Holli showed up in Buenos Aires to give me my birthday gift- a copy of Stephenie Meyers' Breaking Dawn, which I have been dying to get my hands on- so that I would have something awesome to read while I sat and sat and sat on airplanes and airports and more airplanes and airports. Sadly, this did not happen in real life. Instead, I found a copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on the book exchange shelf in the hostel. I know I've already read it twice, but it's big and fat and downright entertaining.

When I arrived in Lima, I was happy to discover that my Spanish had improved just by changing location. I had a 50 sole note in my wallet, so I headed to a gift shop to use it up. I had no problems communicating with the store clerk, who kept adding up my purchases and telling me what else I could get with my leftover soles. He even told me my Spanish was very good and asked had I been in Peru long? Ha. You have no idea.

Then I flew to San Jose, Costa Rica, where I waited an excruciating 6 hours. Actually, I was thinking that it didn't seem so bad, until I got to those last 2 hours. Then I wasn't really sure if I could take it anymore. But Harry got me through, and I boarded the plane without losing my head.

I got extremely lucky on my last flight. I was the only one in my row of three seats, so as soon as I ate my meal, I stretched out across all three seats and actually managed to get some sleep.

The plane landed on time at 2:30am. True to reputation, everyone in the New York airport was rude to me. I didn't want to be there at 3am either, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Things improved drastically when I got to Alison's apartment. She had an air mattress all ready for me.

I spent Friday in Manhattan. My first stop was Serendipity's for a Frozen Hot Chocolate. The most amusing part of my day was when the woman at the table next to me asked the bus boy "Isn't this supposed to be hot?" The bus boy looked at her as if she had three heads and just walked away. She kept asking this question to her friend/sister/traveling partner, who was wearing a matching pink jogging suit, so I decided to speak up. I asked her if she had ordered the hot chocolate or the frozen hot chocolate, and she replied that she had ordered the frozen variety.
"Right," I said, "It's frozen."
"But why do they call it a hot chocolate? This is just a milkshake."
"No, there's no ice cream in it. It's a hot chocolate with ice."
"Well, I don't understand why it's called a hot chocolate."
"Have you ever heard of an iced coffee? It's like that, only way better."
"Oh."

Then the waiter appeared. "Isn't this supposed to be hot?," she asked him. Like talking to a wall.

Around 6:00, my parents showed up, and we went to dinner at a German restaurant in Brooklyn with Sajan and Alison. We finally arrived in Mill Hall just after midnight. After sleeping on bad mattresses with bad pillows and buses for 9 months, my bed felt amazing. I'm pretty sure it's the Most Comfortable Bed in the World.