So I'm back in my hometown, living with my parents for a month before heading to the East Coast via Europe. (I should make this a trend... can't go cross-country without going international.)
And I've been back for 11 days. And today was my first day of stir-craziness. It makes sense, because I haven't been home for 11 days since I left for CMU in 2007. (Exaggeration, but not by much.)
I started going through some boxes I left behind, and am thinking I'll still probably leave behind. They contained yearbooks, journals, and letters, so much of my time today was spent looking through those.
I wasn't a constant journal writer like my older sister, Maria. I found a years' worth of entries from third grade (where I spelled "actually" as "acculy"), then a constant stream from sixth to seventh grade (where we moved and I spelled "actually" as "acualy"). I spent quite a while reading them, and was entertained, frustrated by my handwriting, and reminiscing about some of the people that I'm still friends with (and some that I'm not).
I'll probably still leave those with my parents, since I feel like whatever apartment I move into probably won't be a place I'll want to store pounds of old memories. It is nice to have a free storage space in Mom and Dad's house.
In other news, yesterday Mom and I went to the Sculpture Park in Seattle. (I loved it. Sculpture is one of my favorite kinds of art.)
And in final news, one of my first entries about being in the Pacific Northwest from 2001 was the indignation that it was August and we were wearing sweatshirts. Today, I went jogging. And I could see my breath. Thank you, June.
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