MEET THE NEW YEAR, SAME AS THE OLD YEAR

I only feel upset when I turn up the volume on the string section in my head, the one that tells me, "This is your last Sunday in Pittsburgh. This is your last Monday in Pittsburgh. This is the last time you will return library books to the Carnegie. This was the last chance you had to have brunch at the Coca Cafe. This is your last chance to tell your friends that you love them."

Is any of this true? NO! So why does leaving Pittsburgh feel like dying? Probably it feels that way because I know this city the best and somehow I've let all of its quests and mysteries stand in for my own personal quests and mysteries.

Things are okay without the string section, though. I'm packing things up and living in my room feels a little like camping at the moment, but at least it isn't last year's mad dash out of a dirty apartment full of hub caps, bass amps, and 8mm projectors stacked in all the closets. This time, there is a little order. There's less of the emotional messiness I expected. I may not have my last slice at Mineo's, my last take-out container of Sree's, or my night at the OMNI, but I'm okay with that.