Now that I’m cozy in my new, slightly over-priced “apartment” in the metropolis that is Des Moines, I must admit that it feels surprisingly refreshing to be back amongst the snow flurries and overly friendly folk that generally make up the population of the Midwest. Already my skin is beginning to dry, begging for intense moisturizing cream as it cracks from the harsh environment I seemingly surround myself in. My friends, those who I have re-connected with at least, are basically the same as I left them, but perhaps with a few solid drunk tales I have yet to be privy to and the notable gossipy deets about everyone and anyone. Even the cafe I worked at (and by worked at what I really mean is lived in) has remained true to form, and utterly perfect in my eyes, with the exception of some slight price increases and menu changes.
I’m not exactly one to put the state of Iowa on a pedestal (and trust me, there are those that will by simply mentioning that one movie about baseball and a field), but I will say that it feels great to be back here. My heart is oddly at ease and strangely enough I’m starting to feel as though I have made it home. Don’t tell Portland this though because it just might break her heart. So I suppose, without further ado, I say “Greetings from Iowa. You should come and visit”.