Today was a day of pocket pulling. You know? The universal sign of "no money." Pulling the white cotton pockets out of my brown cordery pants and showing lint as well as empty palms. Why? Because the American dream is about to fade.

That's the wrong thing to say. It's not the American dream...it's my dreaming of America. Not dreaming of America (the land of opportunity) like gambling Leanardo DiCaprio in the Titanic. Not like the Irish and the potato famine. Just my dream of being back home. Not for a long time, just for a short while.

Long enough to drive the Metro, hang out on the farm, pet the cats, eat out with my parents, see some friends...basic events impossible to do while in Belgium. San Francisco is not a city you miss, but a city you just don't get over. Missouri is not merely a state to pass through on the way from Chicago to LA (taken from the song, Route 66), but will always be my home of homes. The road stretching out in front of me...our latest favorite songs on a burned cd playing in the air...dr. pepper (the real version, not the cherry coke european version) in the cup holder...funny same-sized green bills in my wallet...American english everywhere I go...Burger King and their flame-broiled burgers...Arby's with their roast beef...Mexican Villa with their flaming hot-sauce and tortillas...Old Navy and their sale rack...four-wheeling down dirt roads...menus I can read...a huge lawn to mow...cows that moo in the background...the sweat-shirt cool night sky...the deaf dalmation dog...the ruling fat cats...the grave of my grandmother...the distances between any two cities...the 23 hour 45 minute wal-mart supercenter...roads I know like the back of my hand...and this is just Missouri.

Ah well. We try. We do our best. For the most part we are a single-income household. We shop at Aldi sometimes...and eat out on occasion. We're happy. :)

So I get this pang of home. Not sickness. Just stuff. Just people. Not just people...because the people are more important than the stuff...more important that going from one city to the other to sooth the itch of SF and it's bridges, foods, friendships, births, and atmosphere.

So maybe no America this summer. So strange. I thought it was such an absolute! And then I remember where I am and how many SFs and NYCs are here. Lurking behind very small distances...only hours away. Entire countries, only figments still...and now so close to touch them. Spains and Germanies, Polands and Czech Republics! I've got strange new breads and cheeses to try in random countries, authentic Itallian pizzas, and real muesli in the now-real Alps.

So I'm not over it. I've just taken a new prong in the perpetual fork in our roads of roads. If not summer, then winter. Christmas in Missouri...just long enough to drive the Metro, hang out on the farm, pet the cats, eat out with my parents, see some friends...

The American dream postponed.

IN THE NEWS:
Jacques Chirac wins another five years as French president with 82.1 percent of the vote after voters turned out in large numbers to defeat the far-right candidate Jean-Marie Le Pen, who had wanted to withdraw France from the European Union and end immigration.