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Dirt roads and sticky summers
Just knowing this diary is here comforts me. Even if I have nothing to say.

I slept until 1:30p today. When I woke up I tried to make the excuse that I've had a long week, but I really hadn't. A long day yesterday, I suppose.

Watched people buy homes last night on television. Excellent market in Georgia, and may decide to go there. Just outside Atlanta, but I think I like Savannah more. I've never really wanted to move to the South before, but I think there's a certain romance and raw beauty inherent in the area that appeals to me right now.

I remember reading books as a child about characters in the South. Dirt roads and bookmobiles, oleanders and sticky summers. I know I would quickly pick up the accent if I moved to Georgia, but I'd welcome it.

I'm aiming for three years out of this city. Now that there's no one to go back to in Portland, aside from a few friends, I'm free to want to live wherever I want. And that is an amazing feeling. I'd missed it.

Three years. Twenty-five years old. By then, I might have my shit together.

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2008-11-27 @ 2:46 p.m.