Driving to Moscow I

Road, Razor, Hill that was unbelievably lush for Idaho’s high mountain desert.

More farmland, My new Ray Bans, Aberlour (just a little family tippling)

Yahwehs 666 Warning Assembly that sponsor the highway, Little farm, More little farm

White out around McCall, Jack and Razor, More highway

Driving up the ipod was on shuffle, but it only seemed to hit albums that were huge in growing up, lots of weird little trips down the teenagnst path of memory lane.  Dude Ranch will be forever associated with being 14 and in Cabo with my dad, brother and assorted step-family and being really angry I was there and not at home.  The Color and the Shape will always remind me of sitting on the bus on the way to school from Woodduck to Les Bois, where I was furious that we moved from our old neighborhood to the gated yuppie SE Boise neighborhood and I couldn’t go to East Jr. High that year.  No worries, I ended up being able to transfer the next year. So nutty how a song can make my heart feel the exact way that it did when those albums were on repeat.

Shout out to MR for the blog title, which as I am not going to write a book, will have to suffice for my more random posts.

Missing Boise already, I love that city more and more every time I spend time there.  It’s feeling more and more like home, less like that place  where some friends and family live that is an-in between major life moves place. Got up to some thoroughly nonsensical activities, details and names left in my head to protect both the innocent and the notso. Tried doing a little outing last Saturday, went to the Red Room, surprise band that wore red velvet capes, dressed as the “bad cowboy” and sported lone ranger masks.  Be still my swooning heart. Six more weeks for Moscow, which consists of a paper and finals. Hopefully some sun and nice weather will come about.

I need some patio time cocktails stat.


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