over the past few days I've been wondering if looking forward to coming home means that the trip was a failure in any way.
the last part of the trip was definitely less fun/exciting/delightful (Quito is kind of an assy city), but on the whole I think it says a lot that I am so happy and excited to be back in my life.
so after we got home at 9pm, I crammed some deep dish Giordano's in my face, drank STRAIGHT from the tap, used my perfectly-flushing toilet, smooched on my cat to an unreasonable degree, and am now preparing to embrace my bed with deep, fervent passion that can only be expressed by the body of a full-grown, 5'11" woman.
hi, i missed you.
here's a picture. of a kitty and some iguanas in a tree.