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Sorry for the late last post - I've been on planes. And in airports, and on buses, and in cars, and also sort of in shock. But I'm back in Madison now, where I'll be staying for the next ten days or so, then visiting my grandmother on Long Island, then back to Chicago where I guess I'll figure out what to do with the rest of my life / get a job. I guess.

My last day in Israel, Noa and I took a long meandering northward walk through Tel Aviv, past hideous-dress-stores (of which there are many) strange statues and various other things, ending up at the port area.

It was a gorgeous day but we were the only ones there except for a couple groups doing photoshoots. One was a bride and groom with their wedding photographer. One of their poses was the groom on the ground doing a push-up while the bride crouched awkwardly next to him (?) The other group was a model and about 20 photographers, shooting an ad for something, I suppose. I can understand why they all picked this location - it definitely was photogenic.

In fact Noa and I did a small photoshoot of our own...

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Raya met us for dinner, which was really fun, also tasty. Here's one wonderful thing about Israel: delicious vegetarian food everywhere, nasty piles of ham nowhere. Seriously all the fruit and vegetables taste soooo good. I could eat salad all day. (Well, I could do that anyway, I suppose, but I would enjoy it more in Israel.)

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Then after a frantic few hours of packing and a quick nap, Eyahl very kindly gave me a three am ride to the airport. There was a lot of boring airport drama and canceled flights and angry mobs but eventually I managed to shove my way onto a 13 hour flight to Newark, on which I barely slept although exhausted. Partially because it was bright, bright daylight the whole way. Partially because I didn't want to be on that flight at all, and I didn't want to be going home.

Even when I've been enjoying traveling, I've always felt happy coming home, a feeling of relief at landing back in the US, like letting out a breath I've been holding a long time. I didn't feel it this time, not going through passport control at Newark and the stamp-stamp "welcome home," not at the long familiar walk through O'Hare, not even walking back into my apartment and hugging my roommates and eating freshly baked cookies and drinking gin and tonics and catching up on Obama news. It wasn't until yesterday, in Madison, that the feeling of being home kicked in.

People keep asking me how my trip was, and the only good answer I can come up with is, "too short." More accurately, too short in Israel. Not that I couldn't have enjoyed more time in Spain and Portugal and Morocco, because I could have, and there were plenty of places there I wanted to see which I didn't get a chance to - but those weren't the countries I wasn't ready to leave.

So here I am back in Wisconsin in February, where I am constantly informed that it is very warm, "like spring." Last night I almost wiped out on the ice at least 3 times, not to mention the foot-deep snow. Note to confused Wisconsinites who have forgotten what spring is due to permanent brainfreeze. THIS AIN'T IT. In spring, it actually goes above freezing! And there are green plants instead of glaciers and icicles everywhere! And you don't have to wear snow boots! I know you can hardly imagine such a thing, but I promise, IT HAPPENS.

On the other hand, I would also like to point out to confused Israelis that when it is 75 degrees and sunny out, you can go to the beach, even if it's "winter." It is still nice. Really.

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