Friday, May 22, 2009

There is No Place Like Home

Tonight is my last night in Plano. Break out the Boons Farm.... I am finally out of there. I am going to waive my hands in the air and I am going to waive them like I just don't care.

I have never been more ready to leave an apartment. Every time I wake up in that tiny shoe box I am reminded of the night I got a call from the hospital about my Dad. It's like a dark cloud lives over the roof of my apartment and I cannot seem to escape it. That place is haunted with memories of terrifying pain and such incredible loss that I pity the person that moves in after me. On top of that I half expect to see Brett Michaels playing guitar hero in his pajamas every time I open the front door. I am ready for a new environment. I am ready for change. Not Obama kinda change... but change none the less.

Shortly after my Dad passed away I made the genius move to purchase a sign to go in my living room that read "There is no place like home". As soon as Brett Michaels was done hanging it I wanted to throw them both out of the window. That apartment was never home. Too much happened. I am looking forward to making a home for myself again. Maybe if I click my little red stilettos together a couple of times, I will wake up tomorrow and be right where I want to be.


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