I'm a little homesick, and a little sad, and I woke up wanting, more than anything in the world, to be sitting at the Argo with Norman, eating a greasy cheeseburger and french fries with tons of ketchup. I imagine Norman would be wearing his pink tank top -- looks like something out of the Evergreen Free-Box, but I love it. I imagine I'd have a pickle on the side, and a cup of shitty diner-coffee. Decaf. Norman would have regular. I imagine we'd read the Times. I imagine it would be cloudy outside and the Chenango River would be sort of blackish-green.
There is nothing -- absolutely nothing -- that Olympia can offer that compares, even a little bit, with any of the above. I may kind of hate Binghamton, and I may be absolutely appalled by the idea of ever returning there, but nonetheless, I'm a little bit homesick. I know I wouldn't survive twenty minutes there without freaking out, and wanting to hurl something at somebody. I've changed too much to be able to compromise with people who toss soda cans into the rivers, and laugh at people who read on busses. But... just for an hour... just for a little while... just to be there, just for a little while, just for a cheeseburger, and the Chenango, and Norman, just for a few seconds...
Going out now for a cup of coffee.
~Helena*