Alright, here I am. I'm a day late and more than a few dollars short, but I think I finally have enough time to talk about my first three and a half weeks in Minnesota.

I guess I should probably just start at the beginning (or is it the end?): July 28. My good friends Levin, Rachel, Trinity, and I spent my last night in Boston at one of my favorite bars, one that's stuck with me through all the years of living there, The Sunset Grill and Tap in Allston. Now, I've definitely had mixed feelings about Allston throughout the years. I've loved it and I've hated it. I had t-shirt once that professed my love for the place. That was before Rock City – one of it's many nicknames – wore me out with all of it's student-ghettoness, high rents, noise, filth, and drunkenness. I lived there for three years before escaping to Jamaica Plain, but I was so happy to spend my last night there. I have many crazy and fun memories in Allston, and I was happy to be able to add one more, there at the very end, with close friends.

Levin and Rachel let me crash at their house that night, and I was very thankful for that. I really didn't think it would be all that fun to spend my last night in Boston alone. It was also Levin who dropped me off at the airport the next morning. We were pretty worried about the traffic delays that were supposedly going to be caused by the Democratic National Convention, so we left about three hours early the next morning. Naturally, as so often happens in Boston, when you prepare for the worst you often end up with the best. Of course, if you really need to get somewhere fast, everything in the whole city will work against you. Anybody who's ever tried to get anywhere in that city by bus can attest to that! Anyways, I've never had an easier time driving to the airport, or getting through Logan Airport security for that matter. I think it took all of thirty minutes from Levin's place in Jamaica Plain, until I was sitting at the gate at the airport. I stared off into space for the next two and a half hours anticipating my take-off and final departure from my east coast life.

Stepping onto the plane in Boston to come home was one of the scariest things that I've done in my life so far. It was like I was in a dream, that I wasn't really directing my actions, that they were just happening to me. I boarded the plane, threw my guitar into the overhead bin, and took my seat. I was seated next to fairly crabby older woman, as well as another woman with an infant. I felt extremely dazed, unable to completely wrap my head around what was happening. After what seemed like an eternity, the plane withdrew from the gate. As we taxied towards the runway, memories washed over me like so many northeastern rainstorms. I thought of my first night in Boston, all alone in Copley Plaza Hotel writing the first song in my new life. I remembered graduating from college, being unemployed in 2001, my first studio apartment, my good friend Louis that I knew from Espresso Royale on Newbury Street before he took his own life. I pictured the sailboats on the Charles River, the bricks in Cambridge's sidewalks, the benches of Commonwealth Avenue, my band, my first coffeehouse performance... I pictured the last eight years of my life and felt it rush through me in waves. As the plane gathered speed, I closed my eyes and turned my head away from the people I was sitting next to, hoping that they wouldn't notice the tears of a person leaving his life behind to build a new one.

When the flight landed in Minneapolis it almost felt like any other visit, only I knew inside that this time I wouldn't be leaving. I gathered my things, and headed for baggage claim to pick up my suitcase. I had purchased a round trip ticket because it had been cheaper than a one-way. It was strange to think that for the first time, I wouldn't be using that return ticket. In an expression of true cosmicness, Hope picked me up from the airport. I say cosmic because it was also Hope that picked me up from my apartment on Selby Avenue eight years ago, and took me to the airport when I had left for Boston the first time. I threw my things into her trunk and was whisked away into the first afternoon of the second Minnesotan chapter of my life. I can't think of a better way to have started it.

Since then I've been adjusting to living in Minnesota again. I've seen old friends, visited old familiar places, and I've also been introduced to many new ones. These cities have changed a great deal since I've been gone, especially Minneapolis. I'm excited to be exploring and discovering all the things my new/old home has to offer. Most of my daytime hours have been spent bouncing between coffeehouses, mooching free wireless internet access off of them in pursuit of employment. I had a job interview last week that didn't work out, but another one this week, with more leads on the horizon. It's a little creepy being unemployed, but I'm confident that my five years of experience in Boston is going to land me a great job soon.

Even though it's somewhat scary at times, I'm happy to be home!