I've realized two things that I'd like to verbalize. Well, I want to verbalize one of them...

I find comfort in the ghetto. But I don't mean ghetto really but that's the best word I can think of. For example: I felt most comfortable and at home in Kerby's piece of junk van. This van was the definition of ghetto. Really, I don't know what held it together. The ac didn't work so we always had to roll down the windows to cool us down. Picture going a hundred down I-15 with all the windows rolled down and music blaring from the speakers! geez, that was fun.

Or in Kerby's basement. His basement wasn't spotlessly clean but I felt at home there. Nate's jeep. It's reliable and loud and it shakes when it reaches high speeds and it's littered with artifacts from Nate's life. Yet, I feel at home there. Squirrel's house is a lot like Kerby's basement. It isn't spotless but I feel at home. That's why I was ok with living in Juniper.

I don't find comfort in the stark white houses that smell of cleaning chemicals. In fact, I couldn't feel more out of place. I wonder why this is. My house, the house I grew up in, certainly isn't ghetto. I dunno. Just something I noticed.