Transatlantic/k

Transatlantik is definitely not a German word. The correct translation would be Transatlantisch but coming up with cute blog titles is just more important to me than correct grammar. See how much I compromise for all of you?

I'm back in Berlin as of last night. My mama took me to the airport yesterday (was that yesterday? day before yesterday?), where we arrived about 2 hours too early. After fighting with my luggage and the check-in lady to make the weight and size limits for both suitcases we proceeded to an airport bar where my mom watched me drink my last Sam Adams of the trip. We had a nice last chat, scoffed at the $8.50 price tag, and when she left me at security, I was fighting back tears. I mean really, $8.50 for a beer?! Just kidding. It was the leaving part. 3 weeks at home and it really starts to feel like home again, let me tell you.

And by "home," I mean Raleigh, Surfside Beach, Cambridge, DC, and Bethesda. I mean birthdays, parties, graduations, pool trips, and visits to former offices. I mean frozen yogurt with strawberries and chocolate chips, trips to Rio Grande and Chipotle, iced teas bigger than my head and refills a go-go, long car trips, paddle ball, bagels with lox, trips to CVS and TJ Maxx, stocking up on hot peppers at Potbelly's, convenience, and happy hours. But most of all, I mean picking up Mo and Matilda and giving them kisses, running errands and cooking dinner with my sister, having a glass of wine (or two) with my dad, enjoying a 6 hour long porch chat with the cousins, eating and eating and eating with the whole family, playing silly games with friends in the backyard, and having an overpriced beer in the airport with my mama.