Despite the fact that Colin is the only person who just caught that Shawshank reference, I continue.
I think I'm going to miss this little one horse town much more than I ever thought I might. It's strange to imagine two weeks without Eastern Avenue, without the girls we met in 6th grade and turned out to still be our favorites, without the same old guys, or the one-and-only Cara. Two weeks out of this three-foot square box of space I've spent about a fifth of my life for the past six years. Life out of Sacramento used to seem so appealing, and suddenly its pretty depressing. But of course I can always get lost in the sauce* if I get homesick.
*As far the Jesuit administration is concerned, "lost in the sauce" means praying. And not getting drunk. I swear.
Long goodbyes aside, I'll be back before most people notice or particulary care, but just in case anyone feels like dropping a message where I'll be able to pick it up:
Press star (*) then two (2, you dumb fuck).
Enter my account number (206 835 0364)
And leave a message at the pooter.