After five excruciating and boring hours at O’Hare, I made it home to Rhode Island.

Thirteen years of living at least a mile high has made me rethink normal:

1.  It’s normal for grass to be brown and yellow.

2.  It’s normal to have your nose bleed every morning.

3.  It’s normal to drink a gallon of water a day and still always be thirsty.

4.  It’s normal to venture outside at dusk and not encounter mosquitoes.

5.  It’s normal to see mountain peaks, like, every day.

Being back home in New England resets the normal button.  All of the sudden normal means:

1.  It’s normal for highway landscaping to be lush, even verdant.

2.  Normal is pronounced naw’ muhl.

3.  It’s normal for Dunkin’ Donuts products to occupy the bottom third of the food triangle.

4.  Cloudy and grey are normal adjectives.

5.  It’s normal for NESN to show every Red Sox game.

And it’s normal for me to go to the beach at every opportunity.  I’m going to check in with the cats at Gansett Juice about surfing in Rhode Island.  I’m here for a month and want to hang ten (or hang heels) as much as possible.

Tonight I’m going salsa dancing at xxodus in Providence.  I will keep you, my six faithful readers, posted.