just got back from a night on the coast. to celebrate pirate day, five of us got three 1.5 L jugs of carlo rassi, built a fire, and said things like, "Yarr, ye be a scurvy land lubber, ayyy," on the beach all night. The stars were out and the ocean was cold and wonderful, just what I needed.

The reluctant feelings were definetly there right after I left. I soon forgot about that, though, and looking back on it I realize the reason I left missoula was because I wanted to get out of the comfort zone and explore. I'm pretty sure I made the right choice for myself