Why I’m No Longer Mad at Boulder, Colorado

Why I’m No Longer Mad at Boulder, Colorado

You can't go home again. That's what they say. Which is weird, because the truth is that you never really leave. Regardless of how many years or miles pass by, there's always a part of you trapped in that place. A splinter of home is forever lodged in your psyche.Home is a complicated thing. It isn't just a place. I'm not talking about those corny plaques that everyone's grandma has hanging in their kitchen that says something like, "Home isn't a place, it's a feeling." Or even worse, "Home is where the heart is." That's all too simple and trite. Especially if you've had many homes.One of those places wasn't my home at all. I never lived in Boulder, Colorado. And yet, I've long had a thorny relationship with the place.Curled up on the floor of my cramped bedroom in a little trailer park in Indiana, I drew one enormous picture after another of mountain scenes with my fat Crayola...
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You Can Go Home Again… For a Price

You Can Go Home Again… For a Price

“There are things you just can't do in life. You can't beat the phone company, you can't make a waiter see you until he's ready to see you, and you can't go home again.” -Bill Bryson "You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood ... back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame ... back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time — back home to the escapes of Time and Memory." -Thomas Wolfe, You Can't Go Home Again "America is my country and Paris is my hometown." -Gertrude Stein ◊ There is something that happens to someone when they live abroad. It doesn't matter where they live, or for how long; spending an extended period of time living in a country that is not your own will affect anyone who tries it. If you've...
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2 Countries, 2 Names & Plans for a Life of Crime

Not all women change their names after they get married, but I did.Well, sort of. It depends on where you look.All of my paperwork here in France says that I am “Mrs. Massoud.” However, if you take a look at my Colorado driver’s license, my social security card & my passport, Mrs. Massoud is nowhere to be found.Since our 2-year wedding anniversary is coming up next week, it seemed like a good time to finally make some of this shit official.Ugh. Two countries, Two names. Too much of a fucking hassle.The real problem is the fact that my passport is about to expire and armed with only my carte de séjour, I’d only be free to move about the E.U. That might be a bit of a problem should I ever feel like heading home to the states again, which is likely since there isn’t an Arby’s anywhere in France.I did some checking. It seemed that I would have to...
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