I'm reaching the stage of missing the F-word so much that the Hank Williams songbook is starting to mean something to me, at least as interpreted by Nick Cave and Johnny Cash. Even if this version does make me imagine a frustrated Nick Cave/Johnny Cash period-peice cowboy bromance more than some sort of actual romantic relationship.
This is the difficulty of my emotional life, I suppose, being a fairly unloving person when it comes to men, and then loving the shit out of this one particular one who is allergic to Canada, and being a very loving person when it comes to my family, which is in itself a rather diffused entity, so I'm always lonesome for someone I suppose. Oh well. It's better than not giving a shit.
Had a lovely dinner with some highschool friends on Monday. One of them told me I was going to have to settle down somewhere sometime, or basically stop hating places. I reckon she's wrong. Hating places and not settling down has worked out really well for me so far. Anyways, most academics live their whole professional lives as transiently as the F-word and I do, and they make less money than me.