First Pangs of Homesickness

I felt homesick the other day. We were sitting around eating dinner having some sort of depressing conversation about the current state of the world and I just started to miss being home. I missed my neighborhood in the Mission. I missed my two jobs with all of my friends. I missed being able to talk to anyone I met in a language I understood. I missed the near constant harassment by homeless people for what little money I have. I missed the HUGE variety of food that exists in America and especially in San Francisco. I missed my roommate and our regular (though amusing) arguments. I missed biking to the beach and through the Haight. I missed getting Indian delivery at 11pm and gorging myself on chicken tikka masala while watching Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert make what would otherwise be horribly depressing funny. I missed the smell of urine that I so often found walking down Shotwell. I missed the smell of urine I so often found anywhere in the Mission. I missed going to Dolores and watching people much cooler and more beautiful than I get drunk and act like assholes. I missed the near constant sound of sirens as apparently there is always a fire/murder/heart attack happening somewhere. I missed the sound of gunshots lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

But then I belched and felt better. I guess it was just gas.

~=!=~