I left my fannypack in Seattle

We don't talk much do we? Or if we do, then what I really mean is we don't really hang out. Busy busy busy, no time to stop and smell the flowers. Jesus though, WHAT flowers?! This place is as barren as any I've ever seen, especially during winter. It's difficult for me to describe just how happy I am that the weather is finally heating back up.

I think I got my tourism out of the way the first two weeks or so that I was here. Oh Pullman, thou art a small and simple town. But the more I think about it, the more I realize how many unexplored nooks and crannies I've really left. I created my center of calculation and to hell with the rest- I've got too much work to worry about it. But is that really true? This time next year, when I'm getting ready to leave Pullman for good what will my memories be of? You seem well travelled, or at least better than me- do you also feel there's something missing here?

When I think of Pullman, I'm going to think of Kellan's living room. I'm going to think of the single beanbag chair in the corner, of cooking bacon in the same cheap beer we've been drinking all night, and finishing the night off right with a cigarrette under the Pull-moon. I'm going to think of my first experiences teaching, nervous at first and worried about my effectiveness. But those nerves will help me to recall the two times I convinced myself dancing at Valhalla was a good idea, because there's no such thing as shame on the dance floor. I will remember the countless hazy nights spent playing Britney's dance beat with my dear friends Nick and Nikkonnia, and I'll hear Nick screaming "Circle son! Circle!" I'll remember how many times Kellan destroyed me at settles online, and y'know I hope I'll call him for a rematch when I have that thought. What will you remember? Is this the stuff that makes Pullman, or have I got it all wrong? Am I yet to stumble upon the secrets of this God forsaken town?

Next year I'm bringing back my mountainboard. Let's face it already- there isn't much to do in Pullman. You can drink... and you can drink more if you find such banality depressing. I want to take my board and just drive around. I want to find some tucked away bit of wilderness with hills that are just the right size, and damnit if the thought of riding away my troubles isn't still enticing on some level. Maybe I'll wreck and really fuck myself up properly, and then I can gross you and everyone else out with bandaged gore and a smile on my face. At least that would help to break up some of the monotony.

What makes a place what it is? Is it the experiences we associate with it, the people we meet, or the place itself? Does it matter if our town is small and simple if the people are good? In a way, it's Pullman's crappiness that seems to pull everyone together. I mean, I'm pretty sure it'd be more of an experience to live in Paris but would it be this easy to make friends? Everyone here knows that Pullman itself is a little lame, but there's something to be said for bitching about that fact together, in unison. In this place, the meat of the culture involves a 30 bomb of busch light and a whole lot of stories about our lives in other places. Maybe we'll cook good food, maybe we'll buy better beer, but I swear to God the University is the only interesting thing about this place and I'll be damned if school becomes the only topic of discussion.

So if you don't have any better ideas, drop by sometime and drink a beer or two. Play some Britney, have a laugh- I'll even throw down and cook. The best thing Pullman has going for it is the company afterall.