It’s just so nice to be home again.  I know not everybody feels this sort of attachment for home (my brother being a key example), but I can’t help but love being here.  I love being in my house again, despite the feeling of not-quite-my-house-anymore that has been slowly creeping up on me.  I love sitting on the green couch, watching tv and having Daisy crawl onto my lap.  I love sitting down to dinner at the dining table, or sharing half a tuna sandwhich with my mom.  I love listening to my dad singing in the foyer.  I love going to Moe’s for wings and karaoke.  I love stopping at my grandparents house for a few minutes just to say hello.  I like central Pennsylvania and it’s slow rhythm that’s so different from Baltimore, New York, and Philadelpia.

I just like being here.
Which is one of the main reasons behind my love for Thanksgiving.

That and stuffing and corn pudding, anyways.