this isn't very comfortable
Well, I'm home. The last two days of the trip had me back in civilization. The mileage between places got smaller, and on the last day of driving, I passed through five states in six hours. I also encountered traffic for the first time--in West Virginia, where I had an awesome morning through afternoon walking around Morgantown during orientation weekend. There were students and parents everywhere. I ate and had a few drinks at a bar called Gibbie's and then walked down to the river where I sat on a dock underneath a bridge and watched the ducks swim around. I was pretty toasted, but all that uphill walking sobered me up pretty fast.
The night before, in Chicago, I ate. A LOT. Korean barbecue on Thursday night and Chicago-style hot dogs and "Italian beef" on Friday morning. I sat in traffic for two hours trying to leave the city and briefly considered just staying there. That might be the next stop if New York doesn't prove welcoming.
It has so far though, obviously, because I've been here before. It's good to see everyone. They've all got grown up jobs, but are still at about the same maturity level as they were when I left--kinda like me--so that's refreshing. I've already eaten my weight in White Castles (not really, but I'll get there) and had a decent slice of Sicilian (though I've had better).
In the short time I've had between meals, I've been trying to find jobs, which isn't going very well so far. I keep trying to tell myself it's only been two days and I'll get something, but I feel like I've been off the horse too long, and I have a tendency to get too comfortable with things, no matter how bad they are for me. To be honest, being unemployed is kind of nice. I get to go and do things when everyone else is working, like going to the batting cages or playing Wii. Being broke sucks, though, and so does feeling like a bum. But as long as the Mets keep winning, I'll get over it.
The one thing I'm really trying to overcome is all the fucking nostalgia. Every day I hear myself saying, "Remember that time when..." or "What's so-and-so up to..." and other nonsense. I have a lot of good memories of this place, but I'd like to get on to the "what's next" portion of my 30s already. Still, all my stuff is in boxes and crates in various rooms around my parents' house, and it feels like I'm still visiting and that I'll be getting on a plane soon, though at this point, I'm not really sure where I'd go.
On a related note, tonight on the news they had a story about two kids who were arrested for weapons possession and harassment. They wanted to clean up the drugs in their neighborhood, so they decided to arm themselves with bows and arrows and other such implements and dress as ninja. The infographic behind Chuck Scarborough's head was a cheesy stock photo of two ninjas with the words "VIGILANTE NINJAS!" stamped across it. You know, I really did miss this place.
The night before, in Chicago, I ate. A LOT. Korean barbecue on Thursday night and Chicago-style hot dogs and "Italian beef" on Friday morning. I sat in traffic for two hours trying to leave the city and briefly considered just staying there. That might be the next stop if New York doesn't prove welcoming.
It has so far though, obviously, because I've been here before. It's good to see everyone. They've all got grown up jobs, but are still at about the same maturity level as they were when I left--kinda like me--so that's refreshing. I've already eaten my weight in White Castles (not really, but I'll get there) and had a decent slice of Sicilian (though I've had better).
In the short time I've had between meals, I've been trying to find jobs, which isn't going very well so far. I keep trying to tell myself it's only been two days and I'll get something, but I feel like I've been off the horse too long, and I have a tendency to get too comfortable with things, no matter how bad they are for me. To be honest, being unemployed is kind of nice. I get to go and do things when everyone else is working, like going to the batting cages or playing Wii. Being broke sucks, though, and so does feeling like a bum. But as long as the Mets keep winning, I'll get over it.
The one thing I'm really trying to overcome is all the fucking nostalgia. Every day I hear myself saying, "Remember that time when..." or "What's so-and-so up to..." and other nonsense. I have a lot of good memories of this place, but I'd like to get on to the "what's next" portion of my 30s already. Still, all my stuff is in boxes and crates in various rooms around my parents' house, and it feels like I'm still visiting and that I'll be getting on a plane soon, though at this point, I'm not really sure where I'd go.
On a related note, tonight on the news they had a story about two kids who were arrested for weapons possession and harassment. They wanted to clean up the drugs in their neighborhood, so they decided to arm themselves with bows and arrows and other such implements and dress as ninja. The infographic behind Chuck Scarborough's head was a cheesy stock photo of two ninjas with the words "VIGILANTE NINJAS!" stamped across it. You know, I really did miss this place.
