I've finally stopped moving, and I don't like the stillness.

I have returned from endless traveling. I now know what it is like to wander around with only a backpack. It's even more of a hassle than living out of a car. Every time you need something, you have to unload your entire backpack to get to it. Toothbrush? Always at the bottom covered in lint. Sock? There's only one, also at the bottom of the backpack, surrounded by other important necessities that will migrate somewhere else when you need them.
     But for a more important matter. How do I sum up all of Israel in one blog post? It was the most spiritual journey I have ever taken (which might not be saying much). We traveled everywhere as a group of forty jewish twenty-somethings and visited all of the usual holy sites. Of course the wall was most moving. We went on shabbat when large groups of Israel soldiers and lubavitch Jews feverishly prayed and danced in circles. The whole evening escalated from being solemn to fanatical. Being there was both terrifying and electrifying. I would have preferred a quieter time to approach such an ancient and powerful symbol of Judaism, but I had a great time regardless. We went back the next morning. I took out my nose ring and put it in the wall. All that paper will surely disintegrate, but surgical metal? That's forever (chuckle). You know what's funny about that wall? Its not any more important or special than the other walls that surround it. In fact, a lot of walls in Israel are as old as the Western Wall, so why do Jews choose that particular wall? Ya got me. What was really striking about the stone was it doesn't even feel like a wall anymore. It feels like touching a thousands palms. It's soft and flesh-like, almost human.
     Tsfat, Golan heights, Masada, Desert--if any of these places sound familiar to you, good. We visited them and more. I feel less inclined to talk about what I visited because it all seems irrelevant now. I'd rather write about the nature of the trip, it's purpose, and I'm not sure I understand how I got there or why. Forty strangers were thrown together in an effort to unveil their roots and encourage them to achieve spiritual clarity. For me, it did just the opposite. I'm even more confused now than I was before I stepped foot on Israel soil. Where do we all go from here?
        After Israel I took a train down the East Coast, from New York City to Spartanburg, SC. I was supposed to be picked up there and taken to Asheville, but I was abandoned. At 4:30am I wandered around the small town until I found a 24 hour Krispy Kreme. I waited their for three hours for Jay to pick me up. In that time, I drank endless buckets of coffee and talked to every cowboy over the age of 65. Apparently that Krispy Kreme is a breeding ground for old men to come in and talk about their collection of trucks and horses. Everyone wished me a Merry Christmas which was nice but obnoxious after getting back from Israel where Christmas didn't exist. (Why do people so vehemently oppose using Happy Holidays?)
         Spartanburg, SC then Asheville, NC then Knoxville, TN where I contracted the most appalling stomach virus I have ever gotten. I vomited over 30 times and now I can never eat donuts or tacos again *shivers*. Even saying those words make my gag reflex convulse. Multiple times I hallucinated and passed out of the bathroom floor only to wake up and engage in whole conversations with myself that ended every time in "No more! No more!"
         Jay and I drove back to Wichita when I was done vomiting, and I flew out to LA to visit some awesome people that I met in Israel--It's funny to think about in retrospect. I went from visiting one of the most spiritual countries to the most material city I've ever stepped foot in. After only being there for three days, I have noted these observations: Everyone drives nice cars. Their cars are usually nicer than their houses/apartments. Beverly Hills is ridiculously opulent (definitely not my scene). Venice beach has an awesome bookstore. THE TREES ARE AMAZING, and I want to climb those mountains in the distance (whatever they are called) golly. I'll sadly admit that I've only gotten a few poems out of all of this traveling, but ideas are still incubating.