I’ve been back home for about a week now and I can throughly say that a change in scenery was well warranted. Coming home is always somewhat of an emotional challenge. Family and friends have grown and matured, and though many things appear to be familiar, often much has changed. I had a humbling moment this past weekend, involving an old flame, some confusion and hurt feelings. It sucked. The following day, my Dad and I attempted to go to Walden Pond… unfortunately, it was full when we arrived, and by the time we came back and were able to park, the lake was closed due to lightning in the area. I guess it was a failed weekend, one where things go wrong on most all fronts. But what can I say? Shit happens and people miscommunicate. So is life. After picking myself up from the floor and an evening of strong drinks, I feel an odd sense of clarity and calm; perhaps this is growing up. I am reminded of the old TR quote I liked so much which basically said that even when you lose one at least you know you are alive and you tried. For now, Italian ice replaces snowballs and I haven’t cooked a meal for days. What’s next?