There is something is strangely amiss when you have to find out about your sister's current happenings from her blog. Still, I suppose it is a testament to technology that, at the least, I get to read the random gossip that constitutes my sister's infinitely more exciting life.

Both Jerraine and Mom come in today. I'm excited, and at the same time, led to wonder why I've become so accustomed to living far away from home. There's something missing when you can claim to having visited more than a dozen different cities in the past year, but none of them were your home city.

Now, don't get me wrong. I made a calculated choice, reflective of the balance of costs and benefits. I chose to live in Danville. And while I don't regret it, there's always an emptiness---possibly bordering on nostalgia---when you think about what you've left behind. It's not a bitter taste, but a rather odd one. Almost like what happens when you taste escargot for the first time: You're not quite sure if you like it or not, but yet you're not sure if you want to give it up and just be boring and go with the steak.