The American Girl Returns…

…and then questions what it means to be American.

I suppose I should have realized early on that the majority of my posts on life abroad would be made retroactively. You truly hit the ground running and then suddenly the ground runs out, you’re sky bound and back on your home soil.  I wont delve into detail too much, it’s not the greatest feeling: In fact, it is the strangest feeling I’ve ever experienced.

I found myself frequently defending my nationality when I was abroad. To be fair, everyone felt the same need: If you were from Canada, you we’re a happy-go-lucky pacifist. British? Way too proud. And I won’t even get started on the repercussions of being French… All of this was taken with a cheerful grain of salt, however. International students seem to understand they’re all in the same extremely overcrowded booze crusie boat. It’s a lot of fun.

However, now that I’ve returned to the land of McMansions, vanity license plates and the overweight… I question what it really means to be American. I’ve lived here my entire life! Could five months abroad really throw so large a wrench into the works?

Absolutely. Welcome to reverse culture shock.

So I’m going to continue with this blog now, reliving and recording all my experiences, thoughts, poetry and little snapshots of the amazing and beatiful people I met during my first time abroad. Note I said first time. That’s right Europe, now you wont be able to get rid of me!

Lost in Hudson, NY