It’s been more than six weeks here on the island, and I’ve yet to say that I’m feeling homesick. There are pangs of homesick-like tendencies though, feelings of nostalgia uncovered from whatever crevice or fold they were concealed in within your mind, hitting you like a sack of bricks when least expected. The most recent one I can remember was evoked from football. It just occurred to me the other day that it’ll be one of my first years where I won’t have season football tickets for college football. “Sunday” and “Monday” will not precede “Night Football.” I won’t be able to fall asleep watching football highlights to Sportscenter on ESPN. The Chicago Bears’ and the Wisconsin Badgers’ victories will never be seen live, but only as replays and second-hand information from the likes of the internet and old commentators. Am I being over-dramatic? A tad. Am I being stupid? NOPE. Football is a culture and even paradise itself can’t destroy what you deem as habit and an institution. I guess I’ll just have to start learning how to stream games live via the internet. It’s still never as good as watching a game live at a bar surrounded by other go-hard-or-go-home fans or, better yet, being there, chanting obscenities, taking part in an ostentatious display of crassness, losing all accountability, consigned to oblivion in a sea of crimson red and Badger pride.
Forty-five days lie between me and my Step One Board Exam. The Step One. But is it really my first step? Is it only a step? It’s beginning to feel more like a hop, skip, and a jump. Of course, I’ve taken many steps, some towards open doorways, some towards closed ones, and some towards paths where I had to fashion my own door out of a neatly framed window. With all the endless locating and relocating I’ve done in the past couple years, I feel like life is just one giant terminal, and we’re all just perpetually loitering until our next lift. While we wait, we’re inclined look into the future, and somehow that makes our present tense a little more homely and agreeable. But if you’re not wary, the past can sneak up on you, like a closet crammed with all the things you no longer have room for in your day-to-day life, springing open and saturating you with memories and mementos.