After a beautifully mellow 12 hour shift at work, I almost went out tonight. Oh so close I was. My shift partner, Gabe, an Alaska native and former Army medic, a guy who's been whale fishing with a spear(!), said pitchers were on him. Problem there is I know he drinks Old Style... or some putrid crap like that. One of my flaws just might be my beer snobbery; I wouldn't let a mule dying of thirst drink disgusting piss like that. No, sir.
So home I came, or more specifically, this house I live in for home isn't Alaska for me, no, sir. I'm not sure where home is anymore. New York? New Jersey? New Hampshire? Not New Mexico but it seemed like the "New" state theme had to be continued there. What is it with me and "New" states -- born in one, grew up in another, have close ties to yet one more... and I've been to and loved New Mexico, maybe I'll go ski Taos there someday. Is that all of the "New" states? Hmmm... I think so.
Anyway, I kind of run with the thinking that home is where the heart is. And if that's true then I'm not sure where home is. I know where my bed is, where my dog is, where my Dead is... but that's not home. This place I do love but... it's somewhere else I need to be eventually. Great people here, good job, I've loved it... but it's somewhere else I need to be eventually.
Hey, ya know what, enough o' this mindless rambling... I worked, I'm relaxing, and I'm in a Dead state of mind...
Good Morning Little Schoolgirl,
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