Shanna is not on fire, and all I really want is for all of my friends to be in one place again, damnit! I miss the Duluth days, when I knew that whatever dumbassed shit happened, it wasn't THAT bad, because I could go cuddle with Ryan and complain, especially if it meant whining about our mutual crap romantic lives. The telephone is no kind of substitute for hugs, I tell you. I feel disconnected (pun intended) by the tenuous, faceless connection forced by this lack of proximity.

It's not just my "old" friends I feel out of touch with. Living fifteen miles away from the center of my own waking life (read: school) it taking its toll. I may as well still live in Duluth, most days, I feel so far from everything. A whole hour of my day is devoted to driving my gas-chugging creature of the road back and forth from the 'burbs. If I think about it for too long, it makes me sick; I never wanted this life. I thrive when I live in areas where people congregate; instead, I sleep in a place where people come home to sleep. I may as well be homeless, for all this feels like a home. I don't know my neighbors, I can't walk to a grocer's for food if I need it, and I barely remember what the place looks like in daylight. But it's cheap and easy, so why the hell not, right? Sometimes I wonder whether being financially stable is worth the cost.

Anyway, I'm feeling homesick and homeless. Which is terribly self-centered of me, but then, you're reading my blog. If you were looking for something other than self-centered on a vanity page, we might have to have a little chat about how reality works. Right after I get done feeding my pet unicorn.