So I’m home, overlooking Jesus once again.* Operation ‘Don’t Die in a Fiery Plane Crash’ was a success. Only in Latin America have I heard the passengers clap when the plane lands. The trip home was a mixture of awesomeness, best exemplified by having my arm around a black man while singing Dixieland Delight at Bob’s wedding and the not quite so awesome inability to score a QuikTrip hotdog prior to the wedding. Thanks to those who aided my poorly planned blundering by driving me places (mostly Madhu), lending me cell phones (mostly Matt), lending me a place to sleep (mostly Matt again), taking me shopping (Madhu and Kelly), taking me out to eat (Aunt Becky, Pops-twice, Kelly, etc.), giving me money (pops and grandpa), taking Steph to the airport (Matt and Ty- why two people
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