Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters

So as I pack up my material goods and prepare to return to the east coast, I find myself reflecting on the people I've met and known, both in and away from Kansas City. Being the sappy, hyper-emotional person that I am, I feel a plethora of emotions about leaving my hometown and returning to college. I'm excited to see all of my friends at Wellesley tomorrow, and very sad to say goodbye to everyone here--especially since it never feels like there's never adequate time to see everyone I'd like, or even adequate time with the people I do get to see.

But more than anything, I suppose, I feel incredibly fortunate. Although I'm fairly inept when it comes to maintaining contact with people (especially when there's a significant geographic distance involved), I'm so indescribably lucky to know as many warm, caring, good-hearted people as I do. Being physically removed from any loved one is never easy, but (to my inexperienced way of thinking) it's an inevitable aspect of life, and it amazes me how irrelevant geography is in connecting with others, how wonderfully friendship transcends constraints like physical distance. And that idea is about as comforting as can be.

I could babble for days on the topic, but this Donovan record won't flip itself, nor will my clothes magically assemble themselves into my bags. So I'll let Elton John say the rest, with way more eloquence and musical inclination than I could ever hope for.

-From the Honky Chateau debut concert (1972)