Here's lookin' at you, kid. America.
It's someone's birthday, so calories don't count....otherwise I'd be in some serious trouble with the fastener on my high-waisted shorts.
Today has been an odd day of sorts in the sense that it does not feel any different. I've been away from this quaint town for four months, away from the man who made it bearable for over a year, and away from Grammie's warmth and hugs for over two years [not by choice].
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| >snuggles with Yoda< |
Nostalgia always manages to buffet me in the face, a tumultuous force mixing with feelings of longing to be back in my bedroom safe haven. Perhaps others feel the same for their homecoming...we say we always want to GTFO but always drawn back to the place from whence we came.
As much as I try to resist, this little town always calls back to me, and it's not the cardboard Edward Cullen still creepily guarding my dreams from the corner of my room. This is home...where I don't have to wear pants except at the dinner table because Mum refuses to compromise.
Slowly, but surely, emptying out this little place in which there are so many fond memories. Sentiments out the window, except for things which truly matter. Materials things too often clutter our lives and so I've been hauling out bits every time I'm in for a few days. Make room for new memories while holding onto old, especially the favorites: seemingly mundane and unextraordinary which now are cherished as the most sacred...
Donating clothes in the name of the Ritz theater, a little shopping, socializing, and grilling today...with an Eiffel Tower necklace on. American thorough-bred.
Happy birthday, my Fair Lady.
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