Eary Feeling

I'm sorry I can't hear you. 
I have been physically abused in the ear.

It’s my last night on a business trip to a familiar place. I have returned to the city that I just moved away from and it feels, well, funny. It’s exciting, it’s sad, and most of all it is just odd. I know, two posts in a row on items that I find strange, but I really think that returning to a previous home town is a confusing phenomenon that you, my dear followers (c’mon 29 going on 30), will understand. It is great to be back in the Bay, but it just ain’t the same.

First of all, I have friends and family right across the bridge that I can’t see. Second of all, I have restaurants and bars I want to go to but just don’t have the time. Third of all, some of my dearest friends and famimly have already moved on.  And finally, oh yea, I live in London now.



I’m sure various types of analogies have been made. But this is the best I can do in the moment: I’m at a movie theatre. The projector is on, and flickering on the screen is a film (yes, a film) I have seen before. Its characters are fuzzy, but in my heart I know that they are people that I love. There is no sound.

My friends and family are in the theatre, somewhere in the dark behind me, and I can hear the hum of their familiar conversations but I cannot pick up their words. I smell the butter melting on freshly popped corn, and the only other sound I can identify is the wrapper of a red-vine container being torn open.

I’m in the middle of the front row, all alone. My ears are begging for the somebody to stop his futile attempts to open the red vines, and my stomach is aching for some popcorn.  All I really want is to talk with the people that sit somewhere behind me. But there is nobody there, not even a stranger to say “shhhhhh!”

With no other choice, I decide to ignore the silent film with fuzzy-faced characters and use my phone to write a post on my blog.  I do really love red vines, and I am ready to go home.