In 5 days time I will be in the sky, flying back towards city I so desperately fled 4 months ago. My previous visit returned me happy to be back in my new home, but now I think it's been long enough to actually feel like a visit. I'm excited; I'm excited to see people, to embrace the things I love about Utah and stay just long enough to get sick of the place and go home.

I look forward to the following:


I complain about Salt Lake's climate all the time. All the time. It's simply too dry for me, not to mention completely manic. The winters are beautiful but extreme and bitter, and I get sick of the snow after the cheap thrill of the first snowfall fades after approximately three days of slushing about in it. The summer is dry and hot. Spring is nonexistent. Regardless, It is beautiful. The desert has that barren beauty that shines bluntly on the mountain flower, and resiliently through the sun that blazes towards the horizon. I'd like to think that I appreciate the desert, I simply just don't care to live in it. 2 weeks is plenty long enough to behold all this desiccated charm, appreciate it, and leave it.

Cafe D'bolla. Tasty.

I really am excited to see mum and Rick and everybody else. I miss Elisse, and I'm excited to see all the people I never call. Including the dog. I haven't thought about Roo in a long time, and I'm sure he's in need of a good bath.

I don't have to work for two weeks. Huzzah, huzzah indeed.

The household I currently live in is one of decency and honesty. Beer drinking prevails but stealing music is prohibited and frowned upon. In my lovely dwelling in Salt Lake, however, kazaa is mine. As is any musical morsel that tickles my fancy, from Vivaldi to Funky town. Note: This is not to say pirating is allowed, by any means. It just happens, kind of like stop-sign running happens in Kentucky. I'd like to look upon myself and see a good driver, but when in Rome, one must accept the culture and run the freaking stop signs. California rolling stops are bad. Full on Kentucky runs, however, are to be expected.

I'm going to go ahead and give the dog his own bullet. He deserves as much. Yes, I miss Roo.

I dread the following:


Fighting with my mother. We've been on fabulous terms for the longest time, but that doesn't change the fact that I do try and be a realistic person from time to time.

Bathing the dog. Regardless of what I have planned, I'll see that cute dog and realize that he doesn't deserve to be a walking, barking dust mop. I will desperately try to clean him as he bounces about the tub, give up, and let him emerge dirty as ever. This will happen about 6 times.

Summoning up excuses, apologies, and defenses as I see the people I haven't talked to since I was last in Utah.

My mother is so gracious as to offer the use of Freddy the Ford Taurus so that I might have a car while I'm there. I will most definitely take her up on her hospitality, but I'm not looking forward to the day the transmission falls out of the car, the radiator spontaneously combusts into smelly wisps of green smoke, and the discovery is made that the car has been missing a water pump since 1997.

I will be dealing with the Mormons in mass again. I've found the lack thereof in Cincinnati to be rather refreshing.

Before I land in Utah I will be stopping in Chicago and Denver. That is a whole lot of traveling. 11 hours, to be exact.

All in all, however, I am await my triumphant return with anticipation. I plan to be prepared and fabulous, ready to have an absolutely corking visit. Just think of the misadventures that await me.