Finding Myself in St. Louis

Well, well, well.

It’s been a few months. A lot has changed. I’m no longer in northcentral Illinois; I’ve made the move to the outskirts of the one and only STL. It’s been a crazy transition, but now that I’m getting settled, I’m getting that itch to explore. Not that I haven’t been exploring–I’ve run around Creve Couer Lake, feasted at Bandana’s Barbeque, watched fireworks framed by the Arch, stood too close to the speakers at two concerts (Josh Turner and Needtobreathe), tasted a few area wines. It’s been a rich experience so far in the time I’ve spent here. Life near a culture hub is much, much different from small town life. Comparing the two would be like comparing a grape to a watermelon.

The title of the post isn’t so much about finding myself in St. Louis. It’s more like I’ve been dreaming the past few months and suddenly snap awake, and voila, I’m in St. Louis. Life’s twists and turns have brought me here, and as I have this blessing of venturing out on my own for the first time, this seems like a pretty good place to start.

I’ll post again soon.

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