Every once in awhile I get a comment from someone who says "I'm glad you're still here!"

Usually that's from someone who has left Xanga for 5 or 6 years, has come back, and finds me an anchor 'here' .

But 'here'--where is 'here' really? 

Reminds me of a time when I was recovering in a hospital ICU and, awakening groggy from anesthesia, I begged the two nurses making smalltalk between themselves nearby to let me go back to my room.  They coyly replied: "Sure, if you can tell us where you are right now."  I was drugged and perplexed.  I wasn't sure....  I looked around and then volunteered: "Well, I'm, I'm...here."  Ha ha--I felt that I had won my freedom with that sharp, crisp pronouncement.  But to my dismay, they continued the interrogation: "And where is 'here' exactly ?"   I couldn't help myself.  I had to tell the truth, the whole truth--the damn sodium pentathol was still an active residue in my veins. "Planet Earth," I blurted, in a cathartic rush of honesty.  "That's what we thought," one spoke in a putdown hush. And they resumed chattering between themselves--and ignoring me--for the next half hour.