"There's a cold wind blowin' in my soul

And I think I'm growin' old."

--Pink Floyd, "Wot's...Uh, The Deal"

I must apologize for my long-term absence. It wasn't for lack of interest, but of time--a commodity we seem to have so little of these days.

I've reached another crossroad in my life. Every morning I look in the mirror and have no idea who's staring back at me, but I can tell from his scowl that he knows how I feel: Lost. Unhappy. Bored. Like a rat lingering as the shattered vessel creeps deeper into an oceanic grave. Desperate for new challenges, and perhaps some old ones that need revisiting.

It dawned on me recently that I'll be 33 this November. It's the oldest I've ever been, oldest I've ever felt. I don't have much more time to indulge in frivolous livelihoods. It was OK when I was 18 and nine years was pocket change, but I no longer have the luxury of dropping decades at whim and ignoring that nagging urge to leave. I want to get back to the Pacific Northwest. I want to be around my family and old friends again. I want to reward my lungs for keeping me alive this long by sucking down some relatively pure air again. I want the days to pass languidly again, where the years feel like years. I want the comfort of home, home, home. I've done the L.A. trip--it's nice, it's exciting, it's fun, but it's also crowded, noisy, and sickening. I came here to prove myself. I did. Confidence rebuilt, need sated: mission accomplished. Time to take my lessons and build on them somewhere else.