Last time I had Indian it gave me the shits for a week.

Greets from Vermont, the Green Mountain State, the home of Cabot Cheddar, maple syrup (not from Canada Cynthia!, and cows galore. I've been here a few days already and I already miss home. As much as I hate the city I miss my friends and my apartment and work. When I'm there I miss my family, but when I'm here I feel like a puzzle piece that's in the wrong box. I don't really have a place here anymore and each time I come back I feel more and more like a tourist with a floppy straw hat, Hawaiian shirt, and giant film Nikon. Mind you I have actually never seen anyone dressed like this. It's just that every time that I'm here there's new changes and I feel a deeper and deeper disconnect with this place. I really need to find a place. So while I'm here I'm making the best of it and enjoying the little time left that I have to spend time in this town.

It's a cow pen at I.C. Scoops. If you push down on the head it lights up and moos.

When I arrived on Sunday we went out on the boat and this is where we go. 

Every year the library has a book sale with books that people have donated. I bought about fifty for $10 and then tried to bribe the volunteer to let me into the basement where the rest of the stock was kept. He didn't go for it. 

I have yoga tomorrow with my mom and then I'm spending the rest of the day searching for things that I need to bring home for some friends. I found Cynthia! something and Neil something and I have some things in mind for a couple of other friends that I have to track down and I did have something in mind for my Hebrew Friend, but I don't know. He's hard to pick something out for, my mom's the same way, I can never get anything good enough for her. I can' help it though I love picking out gifts and giving them to my friends even if they're just small and silly. I'm a at birthdays just ask Marg, even when I have no money I will make something or find what I can I love it. 

My writing is all over the place in this post, haha. It usually is with me. Today probably wasn't the best day to write because of all the stuff I'm going through. Right now I'm in a glass case of emotion and I'm starting to crack under the pressure. You'd think hey vacation I should be fine and chillaxed, but I'm drowning in some school stuff and some work stuff and I still feel guilty about something that I didn't do but still think I had a hand in it. And then I made an ass out of myself recently (what a surprise) and I'm trying to get over it and I'm failing miserably. Ugh I shouldn't post, but I'm finding blogging o be somewhat therapeutic. Writing is a weird and sensitive subject with me. I was always good a it in school especially for each grade I was in at the time and my mother always praised me for it, which made me resent writing and I hated it. Only recently have I gotten back into it, but there are still people telling me where to take it. I hate when people tell me what kind of writer I should be, it's like when people call me Sid. Call me that and I hate you forever. I feel better now. I have one more day here and then I can go home and just focus on being there and start preparing to wrap things up.