4: December 2002 Archives

Coming home at holidays feels a bit to me like stalking the ghosts of my past. I lived in this town for eighteen years, if you count the tiny town across the bay as being part of this one. I grew up with the salt air and humidity curling waves into my hair -- it wasn't until college that I learned that I actually have straight hair.

I always feel a bit tense when I leave the house in this town, nervous that I'll run into someone who knew me back when. I seldom do.