My way home.

Today at lunch my dad told me that he wants to go to the U.S. with me. With my mom, of course. And the weirdest thing happened: I didn't really want to. You see, normally I would take ANY, and I do mean ANY, opportunity to get over there, but just the thought of my parents standing in front of the Jacksons' kitchen making smalltalk seems ridiculous to me. I might be a little unfair but I just can't imagine that at all. Sure, there is the language problem, but that's not really it... I've never felt more at home anywhere. Anywhere, not even in my new apartment at Düsseldorf or in the house I grew up in. It's just so different than my life over here. And I guess I'm scared that people I take there don't get that, or at least not how important this place really is to me (I'm not just talking about the house here, the people who live there, including the cat, do have a lot to do with that).
This first occured to me when I took Miri there. And that was really fun, but still.. I guess there are only very few people I know who would, without a doubt, love this place and the people as much as I do, who would fully comprehend just about everything. Who I could show around town and take to see all the great stuff I've been missing for such a long time now.. And that's just the thing with my parents: How could a house, that is really messy mostly all of the time, or food that one can heat up in the microwave, or a visit to Wallmart (where you can buy only crappy food that's not exclusive enough and cleary has something wrong with it), or even a ride through town just for the hell of it mean anything to them? (Well, my Dad would at least like Zesto's, I guess..) How could I show them without looking like a complete idiot? Maybe I'm overreacting. But every single precious memory I have of "over there" is completety perfect. And I'd rather not have that change.

PS: I should really change this layout, it's kind of awful...