And then there was one...

For the first time ever, there is only one person left at (or within an hour of) home: Me. For the last 5 years, there have been at least 3 people an hour's drive of each other and our families. It has always been a comfort for those scattered on their own adventures, myself included, to know that there are people at home waiting for them to return. I've had my share of gallivanting, usually only staying in the country long enough to plan my next trip out; so it now seems to be my turn to keep the home fires burning. Schaef (who has yet do anything on here *hint cough cough hint*) is about 3 hours away and she and I are the closest ones now. It's an odd feeling, knowing that I'll be the only one complaining about the continuous highway construction and the ridiculously unpredictable weather.

There is of course the tinge of jealousy as my best friends go out into the world and do exciting things while I'm starting to settle down into my career and "adult" life. It leaves me feeling as though the "adventurous travel" chapter of my life is complete and I've turned into the homebody. It's a slightly terrifying and exceedingly depressing thought. I'm not ready for my yellow leather suitcase to start building up dust. (I saved it from the Goodwill Outlet store. Yes, even the thrift store has a place to send their outdated unwanteds.) I know in my heart that my passport wont sit in the bottom of a drawer for much longer. However as a child of instant gratification and one who has seen Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory too many times, "I want it now!"

*sigh* I suppose that I will just have to live vicariously through the girls and wait to hear every detail of their adventures to pretend that I'm there with them. That and start making notes on the various places we'll have to go when I visit them.

Biz,

Sarah