Shouldn't even be awake
We've been looking for rooms to rent, and I think we've found something good. Ryan's commute from Livonia to campus/work is intolerable. I want to move in him with him again. I know it's a little silly, but I miss Ypsi, too.
I miss Ypsilanti. I miss bike lanes and drivers who for the most part don't panic if I'm in the road (and to that end, the tiny wonderful feeling of swooping left onto Michigan Ave. from the turn lane). I miss having something of a community and town center, even if I know very few actual names. I miss innocuous graffiti on street signs (I found one the other day that looked like a garbage pictogram reaching out for a large heart instead of the usual waste paper basket, tucked in the corner of a street sign--however, I could do without the growing eyesore along the southwest corner of Pray-Harrold). I miss the smell of the river, canoeing on a whim, and great blue herons on misty mornings. I miss the ease of Ann Arbor-bound forays, that tiny star erected atop the water tower for the holidays, and how when viewed from a distance (when only the dome is visible) a low-angled sun gives the city a vaguely fairy tale air. Mexican Coca-cola and pink beans. Dill-scented walks, chamomile tenaciously growing wherever it can.
It's hard not to root for the underdog. Anyway, today's the big day: Gaylord. I won't be online this week; in my absence, I leave you with a pulsing water tower:
I miss Ypsilanti. I miss bike lanes and drivers who for the most part don't panic if I'm in the road (and to that end, the tiny wonderful feeling of swooping left onto Michigan Ave. from the turn lane). I miss having something of a community and town center, even if I know very few actual names. I miss innocuous graffiti on street signs (I found one the other day that looked like a garbage pictogram reaching out for a large heart instead of the usual waste paper basket, tucked in the corner of a street sign--however, I could do without the growing eyesore along the southwest corner of Pray-Harrold). I miss the smell of the river, canoeing on a whim, and great blue herons on misty mornings. I miss the ease of Ann Arbor-bound forays, that tiny star erected atop the water tower for the holidays, and how when viewed from a distance (when only the dome is visible) a low-angled sun gives the city a vaguely fairy tale air. Mexican Coca-cola and pink beans. Dill-scented walks, chamomile tenaciously growing wherever it can.
It's hard not to root for the underdog. Anyway, today's the big day: Gaylord. I won't be online this week; in my absence, I leave you with a pulsing water tower: