Half-delirious from my fourteen-hour plane ride Saturday from Sydney to Los Angeles, I left the plane and walked into the terminal. It was the first time I've been on American soil in five months.

While most Americans spent their post-Sept. 11 time huddling with their loved ones, anxiously tuning into the news each night, and decking their homes, outfits and cars with the stars and stripes, I was studying abroad in Australia. Twelve time zones away, in the southern and eastern hemispheres, I felt very far from New York, Washington and Somerset County -- at least physically.

Logically or not, the distance between the terrorist attacks and my adopted city gave me some sense of comfort and security. The events back home were on my mind, but when I really needed to get my mind off things, it was easy enough to escape into a pub with a pint of beer or keep my mind clear while I was lounging at the beach. Unlike most Americans in the days and weeks after the attacks, I didn't feel that my safety was directly threatened.

But my escape from reality came to an abrupt end this Saturday when I left my Australian bubble and flew home.

Some things about being back home, I figure, I'll be used to again by the end of the week -- using green money, driving on the right side of the road, not being of legal drinking age.

It's going to be harder to get used to the changes implemented after I left the country.

I knew security was going to be tight at the airports, and I thought I was prepared for it. But as I walked toward my gate to my connection in Los Angeles, I nearly bumped into one of the camouflage-clad guards. I was startled. He clutched a gun longer than his arm and stood at attention, surveying the people around him with eyes that seemed as sad and fearful as they did vigilant. His face, boyish and pimply, suggested that he was barely out of high school. I walked away, shaken.

Before I boarded my connection to Pittsburgh, security guards singled me out to hand-search my carry-on baggage and pat me down. Looking back on it, I suppose I looked pretty questionable after my flight over the Pacific. Better safe than sorry, I thought, but I still felt a little unsettled.

After spending a few more hours in an airplane, I began to safely descend toward the runway at the Pittsburgh airport. My hometown is right next to the airport, so as the plane eased downward, I peered out of the window to see familiar buildings and roads coming closer and closer. I realized I was finally home.

But it wasn't the homecoming I had imagined when I left in July. New security regulations meant no one was allowed past security without a ticket. The area near the gate felt lonely and sterile because my family wasn't able to greet me as I got off the plane. Better safe than sorry, I thought again as I walked to our meeting point by baggage claims.

Two days and one emotional reunion later, I decided I wasn't too jet-lagged to visit the new mall that had been built near my parents' house while I was away. As I pulled into the parking lot, rows of American flags greeted me from antennas and rear view windows. I felt glad to be back among Americans.

Patriotism was also the theme in the mall. Everywhere I looked, stores were displaying merchandise with a red, white and blue theme: I Love New York handbags, NYPD sweatshirts, Santa figurines clutching flags.

I began to feel a bit uneasy. Were these stores merely meeting the demands of shoppers who had a newfound sense of pride in their country? Or were they shamelessly commercializing the attacks and war to make money from them?

One store was selling a pair of blue cotton panties with a screen print of the New York City skyline across the front, complete with the twin towers. I know that each person is coping with the tragedy in New York in his or her own way, but is it really necessary for anyone to adorn underwear with the doomed buildings? At what point does the surge in patriotically themed merchandise stop being a sincere reflection of our mourning and solidarity and start to become just another meaningless trend?

There is a fine line between supplying patriotic-themed goods to meet the public's post-Sept. 11 demand and exploiting the deaths of thousands of people to turn profits.

As I adjust to being back in America during these next few days, I'll wear a pin with our flag on it to show my support for the people who lost loved ones on September 11. By wearing something red, white and blue, I'll join my fellow Americans in displaying our grief and showing our hope for the bloodshed to end soon.

But I think I'll have to pass on those twin towers panties.