I miss it. I miss that time when I was in the United States even if I was complaining all day long, even if I was longing for coming back home. I don't miss the very place though. I'm not saying I felt at home over there, but I miss it. I miss my room. I miss that very moment when I realized I said "chez moi" for the first time. I miss speaking English and trying to have a wonderful accent, even if anyone could guess I was French. I miss hearing people speaking American English all around. I miss thinking in English without even paying attention to it. I miss people saying "awesome" and "fuck" and "like" in every sentence. I miss pajama pants. I miss feeling so well dressed. I miss Forever XXI. I miss the fuckin' awesome friends I had there. I miss complaining in English about Americans. I miss listening Spanish and answering in English. I miss Gianni saying "Oh la la" all the time. I miss Inma and her fashion and her music ... I miss being the little sister. I miss walking up and down the hills, and up and down again. I miss seeing squirrels everywhere. I miss having so little work. I miss teaching and having so wonderful students. I miss hearing stupid things about my country and laughing about it. I miss hearing that France is soooooooooo romantic. I miss learning about my own country and about myself. I miss the feeling of being in such a big country. I miss travelling. I miss being in the middle front seat of the car. I miss feeling lost in a huge airport. I miss the feeling of carrying all my life in two ridiculous suitcases. I miss the disgusting greasy tasteless food. I miss hamburgers, soft full-of-sugar cookies and muffins and brownies, ice cream, barbecue ribs ... I miss waiters bringing the bill when you haven't even finish your meal. I miss free coke and re-fill in the bars. I miss Cherry Coke. I miss Starbucks. I miss Jitterbug. I miss missing house music and nightclubs. I miss being shocked by the way poeple dance and laughing about it. I miss saying goodbye. I miss missing the people I love.