As my last few days in exile tick off, it wouldn't seem appropriate without giving some sort of last emotional purge of my thoughts about living here. Since I am 14 at heart, it seems appropriate to do so like I would signing a yearbook.
To my neighbors: Thank you for showing me that good people, kind people, are found both sides of the Mason-Dixon line. I knew that conceptually. Thanks for proving me right. Hopefully, you'll learn that if I can run a smoker when it is -3 degrees, you can too.
To my co-workers: Y'all made this time awesome. I refuse to stop using y'all.
To The Dude: Thanks for lunches and teaching me about stuff you need to know to survive in Illinois.
To the Fisherman: May your lines never get tangled and you never have two fish in the boat at the same time. Unless you planned it that way.
To the Mayor: Good luck in Cleveland. Glad you found happiness.
To the jackass Florida fan who keeps putting notes on my car: Suck it. Hope your mullet freezes.
To the Dawg Bloggosphere: Thanks for keeping me in the loop. When it is snowing and you are watching football being played in Athens, with the weather there in the mid-70s, you latch onto whatever solace you can find. A tumbler full of Daddy's Football Drink and reading BDB, GTP, GSB, Leather Helmet, Hoops and Hedges, S&G, Bulldogs Blog, Dawg Sports and many, many others helped me get the picture.
To Ms. BIE: Thanks for proof reading and laughing at what needed to be laughed at and asking if I really wanted to write that. Oh, and for being the best wife a Dawg fan could ask for.
To you readers: Thanks. Just, thanks.