Day 11::Life Back in the United States of America - Southern California

I'm having a hard time adjusting back to life in America. Even though my passport says I'm an American, in some ways, it's the most foreign place I've been to.
Everything here is so big.
Bigger cars, bigger highways, bigger mega-mall shopping centers, bigger portions of food, big industrial, feed a family of 100, size bag of potato chips, bigger people......
It seems that 'bigger is better' is the m.o. of this place.
Bigger, faster, flashier, more not less, image first, liability, lawsuits, play to win, no room for second place, marketing strategies, second quarter losses, a pill for everything, cure-alls, no need for exercise diet pills, purple-pill side-effects, disposable everything, astronomical gas prices, is it really a cultural wasteland, guaranteed weight-loss diet programs, instantaneous microwavable 5 minute dinners, anti-aging reality bending wondercream, paris hilton-britney spears-angelina jolie-enough already, 1001 television channels, news programs with 3 screens-2 scrolling ticker tapes-and the yap yap yap of 2 arguing pundits, beeping blinking gadgets..........and cars. Soooo many cars. So many one passenger cars stuck in traffic, just sitting there, not moving, windows closed, all by themselves, one after another.
This is the overstimulation my mind has been going through, leading to a near mental breakdown. But this isn't a rant about hating America. More of just me and my body adjusting to a new foreign experience, similar to adjusting to malaria biting mosquitos in the Amazon.......My first 10 days back has been spent in southern California. Part of the time in Long Beach visiting family, and the other half in Newport Beach in Orange County. Newport by the way, is one of the most sterile places I've seen and something far from anything based on reality. A 5-series BMW is the minimum status quo. Anything less is below poverty line. Fake boobs, plastic surgery, $100k sports cars, McMansion developments, designer brand everything, 4 year olds with a nicer wardrobe than myself,...all of this dot the landscape. I feel like a stranger in a strange land. But tomorrow, I head to my 'home' home for a couple of nights, San Francisco. I hope the city by the bay still feels like home. During my travels, I've really missed this great city. The food, the neighborhoods, the views, the left wing liberalism, and even the fog. I just hope I can still fit in there........
or maybe it's a sign to move on to the next place...........
......or on the other hand, maybe I should take one of those cure-all feel-good pills to dull my senses, leaving me numb to the reality of the world, and sitting comfortably in front of a seizure inducing television set eating a humongous bag of Frito-Lay goodness. Thank you for taking the time to share in my evolving depression.
Easily the best thing about being home, family. My sister Mary Ann, and my nephews Hamilton (hamboy)and Dawson (doughboy). By the way, after witnessing life with a 2.5 year old and a 9 month old, I have a new found respect for mothers.
Hamboy is a future model for Bounty Paper Towels
It's so funny that 10 days ago I was writing about being homesick. Now I'm writing about being sick of home.......I'm such a pain in the ass.
I'm in a warm, happy place, I'm in a warm, happy place, I'm in a warm, happy place, I'm in a warm, happy place, I'm in a warm, happy place, I'm in a warm, happy place, ...... Dónde está Ché Pelotas?