The good 'ol days...

If going home again puts me back in a tiny dorm room with horribly dyed blond hair and biology homework to do, you can count me out.

Fortunately, going home again for me this past weekend was filled with fun, friends and, of course, there was some booze.

Homecoming weekend at Appalachian allowed us to take the best parts of the college experience, and leave the stress behind. For just one weekend, we weren't reporters, or lawyers, or accountants, or whatever professional label we now carry -- we were friends.

Now more than ever, I understand why I value the friendships I have with my ASU brethren. Here, more than 1,000 miles away from the mountains I called home for four years, my friends consist of fellow journalists.

That's it.

Not that it's bad to befriend those in your industry, but you should hear our happy hour discussions. Blah, blah, deadlines... blah, blah, editors... blah, blah, politics. We can never seem to leave work in the office.

I think it's great that we've chosen a career that we can be animated about; One that allows us to be, to some extent, who we are at home in the office. But sometimes, you need a break from the same 'ol, same 'ol.

Enter my Appalachian friends.

These are people who knew me, and loved me, before even I knew what I wanted to be. When my girls befriended me, my plan was to be an archeologist... then a theatre major... then public relations person...

But when those plans changed, my friends didn't care. I'd stake a wager that they probably didn't even know about it, because they liked me for who I am -- not for what I do.

Sitting here, a staggering distance from "home," it's clear to me that I need those friends in my life -- be it on the telephone, or in person -- more than ever. Because when things get hazy, and I start to forget that there's a world outside my newsroom, I count on them to remind me who I am and where I came from.

And that -- looking beyond my own nose -- will ultimately make me a better journalist.