Thinkin’ bout leavin’ on a jet plane.

I really can’t type that without singing it in my head. And the only other words I know are “Don’t know if I’ll be back again” so it’s just going to loop like that for at least the next eighteen hours. Fantastic.

As melodramatic as that title is, I don’t know how much more angsty my life can get. It’s only coming in, you know, 16 years too late. I didn’t quite have your  Thomas Kincade, picturesque home life growing up. It wasn’t a war zone all the time but it sure as hell felt like anywhere we moved was located on a fault line and it was only a matter of time before the ground started shaking and shit started falling off the walls. So let’s call that, not the worst but far from idyllic.

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