I am home, living in my little sisters apartment sharing a tiny room, full of our mattresses and bedding and clothes strewn about in every corner. I love my home town, coming here after visiting my brother in LA really makes me appreciate what is special about small towns since they are dwindling away to strip malls and housing complexes. It’s funny living with my 18 year old sister. I went with her and her 18 year old friend to the mall last night and for pizza. Oh dear me I felt like a mom, there constant talking about this girl and that girl and this girl is really dating that boy and can you believe what that girl was wearing. Every once in a while my little input from the back seat of “learned wisdom through the years”, and my brain becoming more and more exasperated brought me to realize how old I am, (or how old they were making me feel. It was funny though because my sister would comment from time to time how they were tiring me out from there chatter,  and that would make me laugh.

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