I have just finished seasons 1 & 2 of Californication - sooo good. I heart Hank Moody and now want to do dirty things to David Duchovny.
During one of the last episodes, a character said to the love of his life, "You smell like home" and I started to tear up. What the fuck, right?
Well, I think that is such a lovely thought - the idea of another person meaning so much to you and affecting you so deeply, that they are your home. Their smell, their taste, their laugh, their everything.
And I started to think about my home. And how I don't really identify with a home right now. I love my apartment and where I live, but I am hardly here. I sleep and shower here really. Home isn't in Edmonton though either. I just got back, and while I still love it there and am totally connected with the city, it just ain't home.
So, I guess I have to just wait it out until either Vancouver becomes home, or I get to move back to Edmonton.
Either way, this probably wasn't really bloggable, but I haven't posted in a while and felt like I should.