North Maple Rag

Despite the fact that I've got a paper to finish this summer in order to secure my last two credits for the spring semester, I'm going to go ahead and declare myself a 3L. Woo! All I know about being a 3L is that the only pressure put on us seems to be to drink more and study less. Nothin' wrong with that.

I finished my third final in six days yesterday afternoon and then toasted the end of finals with a friend's yummy homemade sangria. I've spent most of my time since then packing and tying up loose ends. My ride to the airport will be here in about 30 minutes and then, I'm going home! Home, home, home! Where my town isn't dirty, loud, or crowded and my parents have a big backyard. I'm sooo excited.

So much so, that I'm going to post an excerpt from Portable Prairie about returning to South Dakota that I've posted at least once before.

As the days passed, my fear subsided into a low-grade anxiety that over the years has lessened but never entirely left me. Now, I only notice it when I go home: I see the land rearranging itself around me, relaxing into prairie; the sky unfurling back to its proper immensity, like a fresh white sheet snapped over a bed by competent, vigorous arms. The fear drains out of me. I note, with some surprise, that I have been feeling tense.