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...which is strange, because I totally seem the type. I am nostalgic. I keep extensive photo albums. My high school year books made the move to NYC with me. Hell, I live with one of my best friends from high school, in a strange twist of fate.
I've even got things to show off. After all, I got the hell out of Dodge. I am getting a master's degree at NYU and living in the Big Apple. I don't have the ultimate merit badge (a man) but I'm not doing half-bad.
But I'm only going to be home for a few days for Thanksgiving Break. And I'd rather experience my hometown than relive old experiences. I'd rather see my family and the friends I'm still in touch with than reach out to older memories.
While I'm home this week, I'm going to kick off the last Christmas season I ever get to spend in my childhood home. My youngest sister will turn fourteen (which, believe me, is terribly old). I will go wedding dress shopping with my oldest friend (I met her when I was six).
Life is changing so fast, and there's no point in trying to hold on to things that long gone. My high school reunion's hardly a blip on the radar.
But maybe I'll make it for ten years.
1 comment:
Now hold on just a second, McKim - Jack is my name. I have loved the name Jack for so long it's not even funny. It's a good, solid, one syllable name.
You are far more cosmopolitan with your Harrisons and McKims and Nathans. Please leave the hearty, all-American names to me - a hearty patriot if ever there was one.
OK - this is from Lizzie, but I can't seem to remember my blogger password to sign in, so I'm posting as Anon.
Love,
Lizzie
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