There's no place like home. Seriously.

Though I'm not fully caught up to the present in blog entries about Barrage happenings, I wanted to try to actively blog over the next few days while I'm home in AZ. I have about 2 posts to put up that will be chronologically before this one, but it's more interesting this way.

I wrote the following this afternoon while on a plane to Phoenix.

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Right now I'm on a plane headed to Phoenix for Barrage's first official trip to Arizona since my joining over a year ago.

It didn't really hit me until yesterday when I was sitting at lunch with Charlie and Jason that we'd actually be going to my home. At that moment, I felt a surge of immense happiness and excitement...the kind where the only way you know how to deal with it would be to scream at the top of your lungs. However, custom dictates that doing this type of thing in a quiet Japanese restaurant is far from civil. So, erring on the side of socially-appropriate judgment, I merely shared my out-of-the-blue happiness in conversation with Charlie and Jason.

Then, last night we played a show in Tomball, TX (about 40 minutes north of Houston). Because of the flight schedule into Phoenix, Kiana and I flew out of Houston this morning and the rest of the band is flying later today out of Dallas. It then occurred to me when I was leaving the venue that the next time I would see the rest of the band would be tonight at my house. Weird. Incredibly exciting, but weird.

You know when you have something you really want to share with someone, be it a story, a picture, a present, or something of that nature? And it's something into which you've put a lot of effort and of which you're very proud? That's the feeling I have. But I haven't been able to share it with so many back home for over a year. To be fair, however, I knew going into Barrage that this would be the case. So, this feeling that set in yesterday is mainly one which I'll be forced to deal with for only 5 days.

It's like you watched Santa put your Christmas presents under the tree and then your kill-joy parents said, "No, Tommy, you can't open those presents just yet. Not for another five days." Not cool.