And the World Spins Madly On

Fairbanks, Alaska has a way, as I've been told an innumerable amount of times in my short span here, of latching on to you in ways that no other of the fifty states can. Despite its extremes in weather and tagged winters, this town inevitably tugs at your heart-strings and musters a certain "saudade" in one's psyche, thus causing one's perpetual stay. I've been reading up on the "Fairbanks winters" and poking my nose into others' conversations that always include some version of the phrase "...so this is your last Fairbanks winter, then?" or "(Fairbanks') winter's here! Are you ready?" and name-dropping low temperatures, like "minus twenty" or worse...and to the leyman these phrases can be intimidating. This might be especially so with continued knowledge that the towns you grew up in are now enjoying a lengthy and quite mild fall season, while here its already been flurries since Friday.

I have been an unbalanced scale of weights and measures this past month bouncing between musings of my first "Fairbanks winter" and anxious interest in getting the hell outa' here, bound for more familiar (i.e. "easier"?) climates and conditions. My intention literally changes day-to-day and I am certain that more than a few have begun to classify my whimsy as flakiness due to this constant limbo.
A valued friend's opinion is that this decision will not make or break my impressions of Alaska, and to some degree he's right. No matter where I'm goin', the world spins madly on... (check out the Weepies "And the World Spins Madly On").
But its that draw inherent only to Fairbanks (or maybe, I risk assuming, Alaska-wide?) that initiates this fickle-ty and prevents me from feeling satisfied with a committed decision to go or not go.
...I bought a plane ticket back east the other day and have plans to load up and haul out next week. Let's see if I actually board....or how long I'm gone.