i used to be a blogging fiend. i’m not anymore. but i promise, i’m going to start trying to get back into the groove. maybe you won’t read (maybe nobody reads anymore), but somehow it’s good for me. my ramblings and dreaming in writing needs to start again.

so i’m here. in california.

i saw the golden gate bridge the other day. i thought that they would have painted in gold. my brother-in-law said to me, “that’s what everyone says. don’t you look at pictures ever?” i guess not. or i do.  sometimes i just don’t pay attention. after all, i really do have a bird’s brain.

i am incredibly prone to motion sickness. i took dramamine, i tried to sleep, i kept my eyes closed, i listened to music when the flight attendants told us we could, but i felt awful on our flights across the country. and every single time i’ve stepped into my sister’s minivan my stomach has instantly started to feel horrid. it’s just plain pathetic.

i’m 20. yesterday was the official day and i’m officially not a teenager anymore. i think i always thought that i would feel older than i do. no, i’m convinced that i’ll always be the little girl around here. and really, that’s okay with me.

i like the green grass in march. and i like the sunny warmth and only wearing a sweater. and i like the well manicured lawns and the perfect houses. and i like being able to walk to a supermarket, to the park, to starbucks — really, to everything you might need, but i like home.

i really, really like home.