“Reelin’ in the Years”
I don’t particularly remember the drive home from the airport. The times that the radio changed to a song I didn’t like. The moments the sun made me squint. The occasions I switched lanes or checked my mirrors. I don’t remember the mile markers or the rest stops. The exits I passed and the one I got off on.
I recall the way I thought.
How I wondered what makes a place a home. Would I call my apartment home? It felt more like home this weekend than it did when I thought about parking outside of it alone in less than an hour. Is home a place of comfort? Or a place that takes the title because of routine. If you’ve been somewhere your entire life does that make it your home or is it because you surround yourself with those that you love. Home is such a confusing word at times. If I left my home for good, then what would my destination be?
I’m not sure the answers will ever be concrete but they will be our own.
Took this about 30 minutes ago. #manhattan (Taken with instagram)
Taken with instagram
Lunch (Taken with instagram)
Hold my fucking hand.
Mike Waskom (via claradoti)
Sometimes I change the words to Hootie songs. Some other times I just want to hold hands, ya know?
Taken with instagram
This legitimately warms my heart, Jon. Been too long.
Midwest Things:
Country music radio seems to sum up pretty well the zeitgeist of heartland-America and I’m fairly certain people here can smell my suspicious thin Yankee blood, knowing that I share basically none of their values. I quite literally don’t *understand* how people/family/human relationships work here.
The open space that these folks so easily take for granted makes me uneasy. Out here, the wind has a chance to really wheel up and whip you as you metaphorically stand vulnerably alone in the field. This is probably why these people form such tight bonds with oneanother. It’s the opposite of the way in which city folk form groups to protect themselves from other people.
We go hard (Taken with instagram)
I wrote my American Idol recap in a rage blackout. Enjoy! Share!
I recommend this if only because I can’t bring myself to watch the show anymore and I’m impressed with Dave’s ironed-will ability to sit through these things and come out fair AND funny on the other side.
Kudos.
39 plays
Counting Crows — “Recovering The Satellites”
There’s something interesting about the lines, “gotta get back to basics, guess I’ll start it up again” when you’re laying on a couch next to the one you love, and you’re thinking; “Gee, I guess this is what starting a life is all about, n’ shit.”
So this is Friday, you know?
This song is called: “Satan, Put It On My Tab” #Badass (Taken with Instagram at The Verve)
We used to work together, and have Pushing Daisies viewing parties!!
I’m well. Been stressing a lot over deciding how much of my life I want to live in front of a computer or iPhone screen. I’m steadily despising myself for what I’m turning into. Technology is ruining me, I think. And I know that sounds dramatic but I’ve never played a real life game of Scrabble in my life, but, I currently have 20+ games of Words With Friends going on my Kindle Fire and I kind of hate everything about this sentence, which is also my real life.
How do we make the most of our time? is what I’m getting at.
