6.24.00 - 00:45:21
I'm now coming to you live from my parent's basement. Tomorrow I'm going to look for that picture of me at 12 wearing the head gear. It's not a picture actually; it's a slide. Believe it or not, my parents have more computer equipment than I do, so if I find it, I can scan and post it. It's a real gem and something I'm sure you'll treasure as much as I do.
All in all, it's been a fairly good visit. Usually I get wierded out after a few days in the house where I grew up, but not so much this time. I do notice, however, the longer I'm far away from my family and the friends I grew up with, the more different I feel when I come back. The more time I spend away, the more I notice how life here hasn't changed. Aside from a Walmart here and a Friendly's there, it's all the same.
Well, the same except for the kids. Nearly all my old friends are parents now and visits with them no longer consist of beery poker games, impromptu midnight trips to the shore, or all night barbecues. There are diapers and sippy cups and everything is sticky. Conversation invariably turns from normal to the bizarre, "I swear, Sheila you are a milk machine! I could barely give 8 good ounces and even THAT took 45 minutes!"
I do like kids, I'm just not sure that I like what kids have done to my friends. I have to admit though, when I hold those babies, my uterus gets all squirmy.
