Sometimes I wonder why I live where I do. It is in the country but I dont really spend that much time outdoors. In winter it is cold. In summer the mosquitoes tend to drive me back indoors. It is not like the city. Fewer people, fewer cars, fewer everything. Not as many good movies showing. Not as many good restaurants or stores. Some of both but not much variety. It is near a small town and I have not lived there all my life so I am an outsider who has moved up. From the big smoke. Suspicious, different, more or less tolerated. Not sure where else I would live. I am growing accustomed to my routine and it has very few bumps. Just now a mosquito found a way through the screen and screamed in Stuka-like to my left ear where I swatted her to death. Time for bed and I will dream of Paris or Bloor and Yonge.