Love In The Asylum

In high school, I knew a lot of people who hated where they lived and couldn't wait to get the hell out and as many states away as possible; from what I can tell, this is pretty typical. But I didn't get it then, and I don't get it now. Maybe it's just that I spent my whole life in the same state, in the same town (went through a hell of a lot of houses though), but New Mexico is my /home/. I like California, and I love Stanford, but I hated leaving, and I only did it because NM doesn't have a school good enough to make me stay.

I love the way the mountains look at sunset and the way the desert smells after it rains. I love seeing hot air balloons in the morning and hearing Spanish being spoken everywhere. I love our psychotic, evil, combative, /ugly/ un-green plant life and the way people seem to think cacti=pretty yard. I love Old Town and the really ghetto parts of Albuquerque and our suburbs in RR and the really tiny ranching towns out in Bumfuck Nowhere and even the pretentious art jerks in Santa Fe. If it's every a remotely viable option, I'd like to spend the rest of my life living and working there. There are a lot of times, given the kind of stuff I want to study and the work I think I'd like to do, that I think I'll never live in NM again, and that drives me crazy.

Which is basically a tl;dr way of saying that I don't usually get homesick until right before I go home, and I'm going home next week, and that isn't nearly soon enough right now.