Whenever I'm in Southlake, when I say I'm going "home," I mean Austin.
Whenever I'm in Austin, when I say I'm going "home," I mean Southlake.
What does that say about my idea of home? Apparently it's where I'm not.
Either way, I'm back in Austin (home?), and it's admittedly a bit weird to be back. I'm not sure why. I can't quite place the feeling. It's not really comfort nor homesickness. (There I go with home again.) Maybe it was just a bit of an abrupt end?
Hm. My thoughts on that subject are pretty exhausted as limited as that was. Now my mind turns to the near future. This Thursday is my birthday. My nineteenth, to be clear. I don't feel like I'm 19. (Or look like it, some would argue.) I always get excited when my birthday rolls around, but the past couple of years have yielded less than thrilling birthdays so I kind of have this apprehension surrounding this subject. I'm a little wary about getting too excited about it, because birthdays nowadays seem to come and go with little or no excitement. I just want to do something nice with the people I care about and not put too much pressure on it.
As long as I don't cry like I did last year. That was absurd.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Home, birthdays, and other things soft and fluffy.
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2 comments:
I met this guy at the Plano Center, ironically enough. He was from Las Vegas and in a touring band though, so I will most likely never see him again. He was gorgeous, though, and really interesting on top of that and was totally getting his flirt on with me.
Thanks for writing this.
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