We’re leaving today to go home, as in home to Melbourne. I actually caught myself saying “I’m going home” to a colleague, before I added in that I’m going to Chris’s original home since I am obviously not Australian. I had this same thought last year when we flew back to Melbourne, that Melbourne was my home away from home (New York City) away from home (San Francisco), but this time it feels even more like going home because this will be my fourth time coming and staying, and my fourth Christmas in Australia. It’s like a real tradition now, a real “home coming,” and it actually feels comfortable and “normal” to say “I’m going home” when I come here now. I have a family and Chris’s friends here who eagerly look forward to my arrival, who actually want to have real conversations with me about what I am really up to and thinking, and who want to feed me and shower me with hugs and kisses when I walk through their doors. I have more love and affection here than I have ever or will ever have in San Francisco sadly, collectively across family and friends there. That is kind of a sad feeling that in my “real” place of origin I have less love, but I think as time is going on, I’m slowly getting used to it as my reality.