What I love about this place and what I couldn't see until I went away, was that all the things about this place that make everyone seem like everyone else are what makes us so unique if we go anywhere else. The New Englandy-ness of it all. I guess that's how it is everywhere-- where you are becomes the whole world and everything else becomes an after thought. It's easy to be not fully aware because there's so much you can take for granted. I slip back into it here even now. I can be driving up Dover Point Road for example, and the trees are all still there and tall, but bare so you can see the river on the right if you're paying attention. There's still guys looking the same as they did thirty years ago-- woodsy-looking work clothes that people in the city wear for fashion. The snow's clumped up in gray melting piles on the side of the road. Tuttles is still there on the left; it has been since 1632. The car's warm. The radio's on. I could be 6 (except I'm driving) or 16 or 24.
I never really felt like that in Japan or Hawaii or Colorado, except I never minded much in Hawaii or Colorado, for obvious reasons.
It's just funny. If anyone had told me two years ago what my life would be life today I would have told them they were dreaming. One year ago today we were in Hawaii having dinner with friends (as one of said friends so pleasantly reminded me this morning). Just gotta keep going with the flow I guess. So far, so good.