i'm not sure. i've only been here for about 6 hours.

and to be totally honest, if i hadn't borrowed the book from her and then promptly lost it before i had a chance to read it, i could probably tell you better.

but i'm an asshole, so i really don't know.

when i stepped off the airplane, i could smell hay and cows.

at the airport people. this is certainly different. i have never stepped off an airplane and smelled anything but exhaust and city and streetlights and no semblance of wildlife, domesticated or otherwise, at all.

and everything was flat. it was like that at my layover in dallas too. when we landed at dallas/ft worth it was sunset. and i had never seen one like that. it was like a child had drawn a rainbow from the horizon up--brilliant red, orange, yellow, indigo, and then purple. and totally straight lines: there were no mountains.

and there are no mountains here.

and there was no large body of water to look at when i was landing either.

i am landlocked, and my body can feel it. not panicked yet, but it can feel it.

she freaked when she saw my long hair, and we hugged and it was so nice. and he said " i am so glad to see you" and it was like coming home.

and then shopping for alcohol, and i bought that hand lotion that i was wanting, because people buy their groceries here at Super Target (tm).

and then a drive through for dinner.

i met the first of his friends, so nice, genuine and strange.

if they are mostly like that, i could definitely get used to this.

the ocean may not always be far away, you know.

and the empty spaces out here, it's like driving to stockton.

and though that may always make me miss you, niki, it sure is nice.

and i am excited and happy.

and the quiet here, and the care, is exactly what i need.

so now i am in the guest room, listening to f#a# (to give me something familiar to focus on) and i am looking at my small bed with longing.

it's 505am iowa time.