there's no place like home...

...Except a rut, ditch, or, um... any other indentation that one can easily slip into and have a difficult time getting out of.

Coming home is kind of like waking up from a dream that you can hardly remember. In fact you're not even quite sure that it happened. Just jolted back to your real life like an alarm clock screaming in your ear at an hour too early to remember.

But... I'm back.

Oh, joy and rapture.

1 comment:

Taylor said...

Mmm...Sounds like me after the mountains...you get back, and you're like, "Oh. Shit."


Wow, you really read all that? Danggg. Props! =]

Well, I see you've just had the imponderable joy of stumbling onto the blog of an 18-year-old girl who can't really describe herself in 500 words or less, such as in little text boxes like these. She didn't intend her blog to really become so much like her online diary (she was hoping it would have an interesting, helpful purpose to serve the world and all) but blogging is just kind of fun. This girl's a bit of an environmentalist and a full-tilt vegetarian, a bit of an artist who can't draw, a bit of a writer who can't find time to read, and a completely hopeless romantic. She enjoys white chocolate, coloring, wading in creeks, music, Doctor Who, and speaking in third-person when it's unnecessary like this.

Now go read the rest of the blog and meet her, if you like of course. :)