(This is going to be a bit awkward, as, given my commitment to semi-anonymity, I can't reveal the actual name of the city I'm in. And I feel like I've run the old "Blank" joke into the ground, so it's time for a new joke. Using a random city name generator, I came up with the name "Upper Ashdell Reserve," so I'll just use that instead of the city's real name. I'm sure I won't get tired of typing Upper Ashdell Reserve every single time.)
I was out with some friends last night, and one of them, originally from Toronto, was explaining that he was starting to feel like a tourist when he went back there--Upper Ashdell Reserve was his home now. At that moment, I realized I felt the same way. And the biggest surprise was that it wasn't a surprise. The moment wasn't a big revelation, or life-defining moment. It was like I'd been handed a piece of information that was both ordinary and undeniable: The capital of Yugoslavia was Belgrade. Germany has 81.8 million inhabitants. You can get random geographic-related facts from Wikipedia. And I live in the Upper Ashdell Reserve.
It certainly seems like it should be a big deal. I still take a lot of my personal identity from the fact that I'm from small town Saskatchewan, but now it's a matter of being originally from rather than currently from. And I know I won't be in Upper Ashdell Reserve forever, but for here and now... this is home.
Later Days.
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