I'm home. Well....home in Vermont. My parents took me to see 16 blocks (skip it) and then to Outback Steakhouse. I met up with some good friends for some drinks in the fine fine city of Burlington. All the tragic characters were there: the posturing Northfacers, the reticent Hippies, the eager underagers, the girls all dressed up for each other. They all made their appearance. I was there too. Lost in the confusion of not knowing who I was anymore in this town that had reared me. A town that I had a lot of affection for because I had known no other. And I absorbed it all. I took it all in through a cloud of cigarette smoke and bourbon and beer and came out knowing that it is no longer my home. And this sentiment - a feeling that would have sent me reeling in years past - made me feel as if an anchor had been raised. That a different port was meant for me. And only time, that fickle mistress, would allow me to see my way clear to the shore.