I got back from San Francisco today in what seemed like record time. 5hrs and 21 minutes. I stopped twice. I did not practice Italian like I told myself I would. But I was super sleepy the whole time and knew that none of it would absorb anyway.
San Francisco still remains to be the most beautiful city in this country as far as I'm concerned. I did a lot and it wore me out but in a good way. I actually saw everyone I wanted to see, even though never for long enough. I had dinner with my uncle and felt tears right behind my face the entire time. He looks so much like my mom. Even down to the gap in his teeth. Everyone on that side of the family looks alike. I was also so grateful to be with a member of my family. It's a sentiment that I'll never take for granted ever again.
Seeing faces I never see gives me the purest joy. going on adventures and talking about shit. eating good food and drinking mediocrely cheap booze. It was a wonderful week all in all.
I was homesick, though. Almost immediately. That was scary. As much as I like spontaneity and adventure, I also love my home. I love by bed and my things and I'm going to miss that so much.
I've also overpacked. I need to consolidate. I have a week to get everything done. I hope I see some people.
Italy in t-minus 7 days.
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