Home's been a strange experience so far. It's not really home anymore, rather, the place i grew up. I'm learning that home is something you create for youself, be it a restaurant, house, parkinglot, or group of friends. home is your anchor point, the thing that you know will always be there for you save natural disasters taking it away. And honestly, this isn't home to me anymore. Don't get me wrong, I love clinton and the shoreline and am very greatfull for everything i have, but it's not me, it's not what i have found and made my own. It's kind of like pizza, i guess. I love pizza, and my favorite kind is when you make it on a stone in the oven. however, i didn't know this was my favorite kind until I made it myself. Does this stop me from enjoying pizza from restaurants? absolutely not. however, I will always think of homemade pizza when i think of the real taste of pizza. boston's my brick oven, i guess you could say.

my bike's almost together. i don't want to rush it, the paint's still soft after an overnight drying session. i got everything together except the bottom bracket and crank, i'd like to wait on those. i think im going to go buy a crank arm puller right now from somewhere so i can do the work myself and build other bikes myself as well. maybe i'll have pictures later? maybe...