December132001

Maybe it's the end of the semester stress talking or the ever fading yet still faint events of a few weeks ago or this mushy song by Train plaing on VH1 right now, but I'm getting the Cheers feeling again.

The Cheers Feeling: When you want to go where everybody knows your name. And they're always glad you came. You want to be where you can see, troubles are all the same. You want to go where everyone knows your name.

Next week is finals week. I'm going home this weekend. Why on earth can't I wait a few more days when I know that I'm going to be home for a whole month and will probably be ripping my hair out WISHING I was back at school?

For a few reasons, actually.

1) I doubt I'll study if I'm at school with my nice ethrnet, cable TV, CD player, and all the other fun things that my room is filled with, unlike my room at home where there's a bed and a dresser with nothing but socks, sports bras and running shorts.

2) Securing a job, whether be at Parkside (you figure that since they already own my soul, they wouldn't have any problems taking me back...but I've been getting dicked over there) or god knows where else. But we all know I've always got a place to work at the detectives.

3) All my friends are going to be home.

And that's what I really need right now. I need to yell "Fuck you, Water Stealers", play No Coche, get my silverware taken away from me at Michael's Diner for something I did almost a year ago that no one remembers (but everyone remembers that I can only have my silverware on an as need basis pending approval from all who are present) and to be able to talk about something current in my life without having to back track 10 years to explain how something in the past affects the way things get viewed in the present.

They say you can never go home again

And maybe you can't. I feel more and more disconnected each time I walk into my house. Less and less like a resident and more and more like a visiting guest. My brother gets taller. My dad gets grayer, my mom's is wearing more and more of the clothes I left behind, and Pretzels gets dumber and Prissy gets bader.

So maybe I can't go to my home again (at least the way I remember it) but as long as I've got my friends, it doesn't matter where we are...just as long as we are.

Friendship, much like love, is practically impossible to explain. I don't know exactly what in human natures makes us desire companionship, or how despite not being able to see or talk to someone every day doesn't change all the good times and memories of the past. And sometimes it's rebuilding upon the past that allows us to have another chance at a future. (Twilla, good to have the team back together...see you at "The Prom")

I can't find a name for it...it's just who you are and that thing you do

Miss and love you all