February

I greet the month of February, a notoriously depressing month with an
intense wave of homesickness. Last weekend was one of the worst
weekends of improv I've had in a while. And it makes me wonder... Why
would I leave behind everything I love and move halfway across the
country to study this bizarre artform that no sane person understands?

Things are going well at work. I'm bonding with coworkers and even got
a tiny little bonus for being part of the team or something like that.

But I could be stuffing envelopes and sucking at Improv closer to my
family. But then I wonder, what is home? There's this building I slept
in every night for the first 19 years of my life and frequently returned
to for several years after that. But that hasn't really felt like home
in a long time. I remember being under the covers in my bed in the
house I grew up in and hearing the fighter planes circling Fort Belvior
those first few weeks after 911 and saying out loud, "I want to go
home."

I wish I had been a happier child. I wish I had gotten medicated or
something when we got the pictures back from our first trip to
Disneyworld. There's got to be something wrong with a kid who hates
Disneyworld!

If I had only appreciated home more...maybe it wouldn't have
dissappeared so quickly.

It my fault! Its my fault for mistreating home. I was mean to it. I
left it. I talked bad about it. I didn't take care of it. I didn't
realise how much I loved it. It got sick. Home was neglected and
malnourished. I pushed home away and now I'd do anything to get it
back. Whatever it is. Wherever it is. By any means necessary.

Its supposed to be cold and snowy here again this weekend. But... 22
days to L.A.! I think I like it there because at least 9 out of 10
people in L.A. Are homesick for something too.