Hello, person reading my blog! Guess where I am? Dallas, Texas. Can I get you a candied scorpion or a ten gallon hat? Or just a souvenir shot glass because you need a drink after contemplating eating a candied bug?
So I am supposed to go home for two weeks to pack my stuff to move back to college and to visit my family. This, of course, was my mother’s idea. I’m a pawn. When you’re the second child, you always feel like a pawn.
In any case, as much as I love Los Angeles, and more so the friends I made there, I’m going to tell my mother that I shouldn’t go back for the latter half of August. There’s a point at which you have to take control of your own life.
Sometimes I feel like my parents sent me to LA to watch out for my sister. She’s 22, and she has her own life there. I never have felt like I was holding her back or slowing her down. I just feel awkward tagging along with her all the time and invading her space.
I’m not saying that I won’t go back to LA in August, in fact, knowing my mother, she’ll buckle me into the planes seat herself.
*disclaimer: I love my family, not dissing my mom