Is it possible to get homesick for a place you have never actually called home?

Since I am almost finished with my Las Vegas scrapbooks (you know, the trip that Beth and I took in 2004 (and when I say almost finished, I actually mean that I almost was finished until I found the four rolls of film that I have not yet developed from the trip. I have no idea what is on this film. Good Lord, could I be any more unorganized?)), I have started going through the pictures that Beth and I took when we went to Portugal to visit Johnny. It was almost a year ago.

I've been thinking about Portugal a lot lately. Matt, my boss, left last week to go to Europe. One of the spots he'll be going to is Portugal, stopping in Lisbon and Evora. My conversations and pictures of my trip helped him make this decision. Part of me hates him because I want to be there so badly I can taste the extremely wonderful veal that I had at the Fish Egg restaurant (Johnny loves the fish eggs at this restaurant. Beth and I were not as thrilled with them). The other part of me can't wait until he gets back and tells me about the trip and if he loved it as much as I did.

Talking to Matt and looking at these pictures bring back so much to me, the memories are flooding back. Look, there's the guy in the purple speedo that was lying on the beach. There is a series of pictures of Beth that has his crotch in the background. Joy.

There's the little girl that was in the Oceanario. I can remember her squeal when a fish swam up to look at her.

There's Pirate Jesus, of course, to go along with the Chapel of Bones. And the really cute waiter at the restaurant in Evora. I told Matt to be sure to stop there. Because of the food. He was less than thrilled about the cute waiter.

If I was rich, I would live part of the year in the United States and the other part in Portugal. I haven't decided how I'm going to get rich yet but it could happen.

I miss Portugal. I miss Johnny. I miss her pets and her beautiful flat and her handsome boyfriend that I've never officially met and the ocean and the food and Gulbenkian and the really cute little Smart cars. I miss everything about Portugal, even getting lost in Evora and being attacked by hungry little bugs.

I miss everything except for one thing.

I do not miss the hills. But I would put up with them just to be there again.