I just got two eCards from my dad. One super-sweet-sentimental and the other hilarious. My dad was always amazing at picking out cards (multiple cards!) for every occasion. I've said it before, but I'm a daddy's girl. I miss my dad.
And maybe it's because it's almost 1 in the morning. Maybe it's because it's my birthday. Maybe it because I've spent the last couple of days talking with friends and family more. But I miss home. The great green beautiful NorthWest.
Can I move to Seattle now?
I miss the grass, the evergreen trees, the moss, the ocean, the ferrys, and I most definitely miss the rain. Rain is soothing, the steady white noise as you snuggle under blankets. Sun is harsh and burning. Sometimes the excess of sun in Colorado is like hanging out with those extremely sheltered religious kids - they are always SO dang happy, you just want to shout at them "You know there are starving kids!". I'm all for a little vitamin D but somedays I just want to cuddle up to the comfort of rain and have my expressions of sadness visible and tangible. Some days I don't want to deal with the zealously-perky sun. And I most definitely have had enough dead dry brown to last me a lifetime. People say they get depressed by the rain? I get depressed by the brown.
My mom offered to fly me and Scott out to Seattle next month. I so very desperately want to jump on it. But I have responsibilities here. I need to find a job. (It would be just my luck that the week I'm out of town is when someone would want to interview me) I need and want to be in town to not miss Rachel ovulating again. (Let's just hope Scott will be in town this time too!) I have a responsibility to my dogs, I can't just run off and not plan on where I will leave them.
And honestly? I know my mom wants me to fly out to see her, but I could really use some non-mom time. I want to spend time in the lush forests and with friends. So my motives to accept the tickets wouldn't be very pure. So instead I'll just sit here and miss my home state and try to be a mature adult. And tell myself my little mantra of "Someday I'll move back. Someday I'll move back. Someday..."