Back to the USA, starring Abby

Trip Start Sep 17, 2007
Trip End Oct 08, 2008

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Flag of United States  , New York
Saturday, October 4, 2008

Travis and Erin are staying with me for three days, and I'm pregaming the guest entry I'm sure they'll ask me to write. As I'm sure you've read, Emily wrote two in India, almost indistinguishable from the tone T&E have been using all along, nice flow, nice accounts of their adventures, etc. But let's not kid ourselves, and anyone who knows me will likely see this coming. This one's going to be about me.

But only out of love! I'm so very excited for them to come, and I'm sure they've decided to make me the last stop on their whirlwind trip because they're dying to see me too. I'm sure it has nothing to do with squeezing a little homeland tourism in before getting back to The Real World. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the convenience of JFK to the world-traveler. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the convenience of a having friend who's enough of a sucker to pay New York rent that they have a place to crash. Ha! I'll show them: everybody thinks I'm exaggerating when I say my apartment is the size of a shoebox. It is, though. To orient yourself: the floor space in the bedroom amounts to the size of a double bed and single bed, and that's only because my tables are drop-leaves mounted to the wall and I have bookshelves and a clothes hanger rod mounted in the windows. The kitchen sink is the size of a dinner plate, really, and the kitchen can fit three people in it if they stand side-to-side and don't move. Or breathe. The fridge door can't open all the way because it hits the cabinets, and the bathroom door can't open all the way because it hits the sink. The bathtub is a real tub, but instead of being surrounded by wall on two short sides and one long, it sticks lengthwise into the wall and the sink is next to it, so you climb in over the corner. The first thing that everyone does upon entry is look around, surprised, and say something insightful, like, "Oh, this *is* small..."

I'm so excited, so excited, like a little kid on Christmas Eve; Travis' mom sent a duffel bag of clean clothes and junk food and junk literature (!) and it's been waiting patiently in the corner while I've been bouncing up and down saying: four more days. Three more days. Two more days. Tomorrow, tomorrow!
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