Just got back from London a while ago... we caught up with the election sort of while I set out my posters and stuff. The plane ride wasn't all that bad, but there was some turbulence. I read some Breaking Dawn and kept thinking about how awesome it would be if the airport was the Detroit Airport. Then I thought about how like, I was going "home" but this wasn't really home. But it still felt awesome to come back. Like, you always get that certain excited, "its all over" feeling when you come home. When we opened the door, a "homey" scent I guess wafted in. It was croissants. I was "home".
Obama, yo!
Change we need, change we have.
4 AM.
1 comment:
Can't wait til you get home.
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I think that's what this country diagnoses is. After 8 years of concentrated Bushitis (and an earlier form experienced....well, earlier), we need some help.
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