I am waffling terribly on where I want to move come fall.

Toronto is where I'll go if I can, if it works out -- also if I ever, um, finish applying -- and, of course, if I can afford it.

But so that's off the list, as a given will-if-I-can.

Minnesota is somewhere near the top, which may seem odd. It's nowhere I'd plan to spend more than a few years -- well, there is nowhere I'd plan to spend more than a few years -- but it's appealing for maybe two or three years. And Minneapolis seems to be both internally and externally considered a pretty solid place to live -- particularly if you're someone for whom Boston wasn't northerly enough.

And sometimes there's the unsurprising and oh-so-pervasive allure of NYC. There is the cliché that everyone should live in New York City at some point in their life, and I think there's some truth to it for many of us. But I also know I'd never live there indefinitely either, and I'm reluctant to return to soul-sucking, skull-fucking jobs just to maybe pay my bills and once in awhile splurge on, like, some toothpaste, just feed my own inescapable transience and flee into the huge vast lullaby of anonymity.

So then there's the identical motivation and opposite context of moving to, say, Laramie, Wyoming, which if any one of you doesn't admit that the first image in your head is Oregon Trail, you're lying. Or like Fargo, which is something almost resembling a real place, but not quite. Not quite.

Or the Pacific Northwest, Seattle or Portland, which friend after friend after friend tells me I'd love. And I know some people there, which is both a plus and a minus, perpetually. I'd love the weather there in the summer, and be sad because it's not quite cold enough in the winter.

Or Montreal, or Paris, or Bretagne or Sapporo or Edinburgh or, or, or.

Yes, I'm well aware that the entirety of the above may be summed up as Anywhere But Here.