I am in Wisconsin right now.
I haven't been here in eight weeks. That's 56 weeks, in dog weeks.
Not much has changed up here. The music is still good. The men are still stupid. My friends are still awesome.
My favorite part of the night was when I went up to sing Banditos, and two guys I'd never seen before started singing along, and most of my friends got up to dance. Who would've thought that this one little song would come to personify "us." It was awesome.
But perhaps not as awesome as Tim in his coat. Or Amy singing Evanescence. Or Kim's pictures from Tennessee. Or Amber's undeniable Amberness. Or Kelly dancing with me to "When the Sun Goes Down" while Angel sang. Or Kendall. Sheesh, Kendall. Or Dale and Tim's duet at the end of the night.
Or just plain being back in the place that brought me back to life when I didn't know if that was even possible.
No, I can't do it every week. It's just too expensive to drive here. And I love having my weekends to myself, to take care of me and just be. But every once in awhile, like tonight, it's gratifying to come home again, to be with "my people," and soak up the love.