Spent the last three weeks out of Baghdad. It was great.

I went straight to Vilnius for a week. I LOVE this city.

Crashed with my friend Anthony the ceramist seen here with his lovely girlfriend Ruta.

Went to Kupiskis, where I worked as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Things have changed. These are my friends holding the Coronas we bought in the local grocery store. I still can't believe it. Corona in Kupiskis, globalization is for real.

After a week of bliss in Lithuania I headed for the States, but got stuck in Paris. The whole of Air France went on strike. I slept on the ground in the infamous and lonesome Terminal 1 watching the floor cleaners swish around. In a delirium, I finished writing lyrics to a song I started last year, about a Lithuanian girl - naturally. 24 hours later they got me out through Germany.

Back in San Diego I surveyed the sky. Except for these clouds I would have never known the place was on fire days previous.

I spent two hours shredding four months worth of credit card applications. America and debt, what's the difference.

I got my teeth cleaned. Got a blood test for a parasite I may have picked up in Lake Malawi last winter. Then took the dogs for a walk.

We stopped by the Tijuana Estuary and I watched the helicopters do touch and goes - the only thing that reminded me of Baghdad. Otherwise, it had completely evaporated.

On the way home, I noticed this headline, another reminder.

I relaxed the rest of the week. Took a picture of my best friends hair. Always impressive.

Put copies of my film under the windshield wipers of strangers in Balboa Park.

Stuffed my shoes with sunscreen and hot peppers.

Flew back to Amman.

Hid a couple copies of my film in the hotel room.

Then started the final decent back into the belly.

Minutes before landing, I was grateful to finally see the curving Euphrates, I slept through it the first time.

I like R&R, a lot.