Now that I’m here telling the young to pronounce correctly and write in a particular fashion, I tell myself that I’m only slightly closer to that finish line. I need mountains in the west with a history that only I admire because that’s just the kind of person I am – a subjective-priority-focused-sort-of-girl. Eventually, I will get that feeling once more — that sense of direction and misdirection, the comprehensive skills to say a fucking hello, and a Sanctuary. Even the filling of an empty museum is on my list of things to do. Here things feel temporary, but comfortable like a goddamn bed of nails. I remember being at that upturned house with you and my parents (we’ll both say that you were never a…