Left of Right: Pinch me

Three days ago, I got home. Even better, I'm pretty sure it's real this time, not like the dream I had maybe a month ago which seemed every bit as real as this until I woke up in Afghanistan with a month still to go. That was...unpleasant. Hope it doesn't happen again.

So I'm home, after 95 hours and 30 minutes of travel time, door to door. After 8,551 hours (356 long days, and change) total time away. After watching some 18 different wing units or rotations head to the passenger terminal and begin their journey home, it was finally my turn. (Well actually, it turns out it was the SecDef's turn, so we deplaned after two hours of waiting, and waited another 10 or so before we flew out.)

Of course, everyone's asking "how's it feel to be back." It feels...great. I'm euphoric. Ecstatic. But not just. I've had many moments where I had to stop what I was doing and try to convince myself that I'm really here now, and not there. So disbelief has been one feeling, too. Also, rediscovery. I lived in my apartment for a total of about 6 or 7 weeks before deploying. I finished unpacking the last box the day before I left for the 'stan. I even had to look up my own address when I was mailing my stuff home from over there. So I'm a bit of a stranger in my own home - I have to open all the cupboards, for example, to remember where I keep my plates and glasses and such. The flip side of that is that it's Hanukkah again: everywhere I look there's another gift, something I forgot I owned.

A few first impressions from being back in civilization:

The roads are so smooth - like glass. Can't get over that. Between the roads and the suspension on my car (or any car that isn't a 1994 Toyota Hilux with 200,000 miles) it feels like I'm flying an inch above the road.
There is so much green. The vista (any vista) seems so much more vibrant. Did you know that the Afghans have 100 different words for "drab?"
We are so rich. I mean we all know this on some intellectual level. But I feel like I'm just drenched in luxury and comfort. Like I'm eating a 10 course meal prepared by the finest chef in the world and served in the most decadent dining room with chandeliers and crystal glasses and solid gold silverware (goldware?) with ivory handles and silk napkins.
I seem to have only one criterion for finding a woman attractive: she's not wearing a uniform.
I hate jet lag.

For months now, I've had a list of a few things I wanted to do as soon as possible once I got back. One was to get in my car, turn the volume all the way up and floor it down the highway. Now as I've said before, I'm fortunate to have found a very good car, and my very good car has a very good stereo. I wanted to make sure the first song I played would take advantage of that, but I hadn't figured out what it should be (so many great songs to choose from!) so I abdicated the responsibility of consciousness and let shuffle pick for me. It did not disappoint, with Seether's "Walk Away from the Sun." Perfect selection. The double sub-woofers thumped, the mids churned, the highs pierced, my engine screamed, the whole damn thing just caught up to me at once and I let out this visceral roar at the top of my lungs. I know it sounds stupid but it felt great - like I was alive and breathing fresh air for the first time in a year.

Then I hit 55 mph, which after a year of 15 mph speed limits on base felt suicidally fast, and I had to slow down. Baby steps.

I'm hoping to put up a really long post here soon on some of my thoughts looking back on the last year...but right now it's time to take another hot shower. So I'll leave you with some pics: