On one hand, I am a master of controlled denial; "out of sight, out of mind" works wonders for me. So when tragedy strikes, I'm often adept at moving on by simply adapting to the new reality that fate has assigned for me. Yet it is hard to "move on" past an event like Hurricane Katrina when you are living somewhere that is not your home. There is always the specter of the return, of the second movement: that once you are settled and happy you must start all over again.

Yet I cannot find too much fault in my new life. All things considered, it is quite good. It is a scary prospect to move in with the woman you are dating when you are essentially forced to do so by circumstance and not allowed the breathing space of choice. However, this has been one of the strongest and brightest points of my exile. Sarah and I have only gotten closer too each other, and the experience has brought us closer together, rather than dividing us, or playing on our nerves. Also, we've been lucky enough to have a lot of furniture and clothes donated, as well as given monetary gifts to make up much of the remaining slack. The apartment really does feel like home now. Plus, I'm attending a great school, and have finally gotten my journal back on track -- and without having to stress about doing that and having to maintain my grades (because only the credits will transfer back to Tulane). Not worrying about grades is a wonderful freedom. I can focus more on learning, rather than trying to second guess what a professor will or will not test us on. Also, I've had time to do extensive research on the article I'm supposed to have published on that Journal. I think that will really turn out well. To top it all off, Sarah is preparing to write a novel, and it's fun to be here for her to bounce ideas back and forth off of. (Yes, I did end a sentence with a preposition, and yes, I am leaving it there!)

I'm not sure that life is "back to normal," but it is good.