So it turns out I didn't miss America that much.

After 11 hours of sleepless trans-Pacific travel yesterday, I arrived at LAX only to be greeted by a barrage of American unfriendless and impatience. 

It was 6am, but my brain thought it was 1am tomorrow, so I was in a fog.  When I got to Passport Control, all of the lines I saw said "Visitors."  Note: In every other country I've been to in the past two years, there have been two lines at Passport Control.  EU and Non-EU, Australia/New Zealand and everywhere else; you get the idea.  To my mind, asking whether it was the right line was not an absurd action.

When I approached the woman in charge of directing people and asked her whether these were the lines for citizens, she yelled in my face, "Do you see all these lines!  Get in a line!  Look at all the lines!  Just get in any line where there's no other people!"  Literally, screamed at me.

I was so taken aback that I said (calmly), "Yes, I see the empty lines, but they say 'Visitors.'  You didn't answer my question.  Are they also for citizens?"

To this she screamed, "Do you see them?!  Do you see all the lines?  Look, there's no one at half of them!"  So, again, she didn't answer my question. 

I responded (still calmly -- I was impressed with myself), "You still have not answered my question.  I don't understand why you're so upset."  I walked away while she ripped into me again.

After the ease of check-in and security on my New Zealand domestic flights (you only have to get to the airport 30 minutes in advance -- it hearkened back to the days when non-passengers were allowed to accompany loved ones through security or meet family members at the gate), I was a bit floored by the intensity of security at LAX.

First of all, I had already gone through security TWICE before boarding my flight to the U.S.  That's right, I had to go through (not-laid-back international) New Zealand security, which included a routine pat-down with a wand and taking a sample from my bag.  THEN, I had to go through extra security at my gate due to U.S. policy.  This was extra annoying because Dr. BF had come to the airport early with me so we could have a nice (well, airport nice) meal together before parting ways, but 30 minutes before my boarding call the departure screen listed my flight as in its 'Final Call.'

As a result, I rushed to the gate in a panic, had to say goodbye to my bf in a real hurry, went through stupid second security, and then sat at the gate for another 20 minutes while they delayed boarding.  Effing 'Final Call' bullshit.

So then I get to LA, and I have to do it all over again.  After the mean lady and Passport Control yelled at me and I picked up my bag and dropped it off again, I stood in line for at least 30 minutes to get through security.  Several people cut in front of me because they had flights leaving soon.  I didn't mind this, I wasn't in a hurry.  I let one man in front of me and gave him some space to take off his shoes (I had already unpacked my stuff into the buckets).  I thought this was reasonable.  The man behind me didn't.  "Ma'am," he said, "Ma'am, go.  You can go."  The words weren't forceful, but the tone and attitude were.

I guess I hadn't noticed how stressed out people are here until I left and came back.  I have to admit, that's ofter how I feel at airports, like my flight is the most important and why should I have to wait in line?  But I've kind of gotten over it.  And I certainly don't voice it. 

There are a lot of things to whine about in other countries, but I have to say, people generally aren't in such a hurry.  And I'll miss that.