Sunday, December 31, 2006

Musings from an Angeleno: The Back Home? edition

I wish there were something meaningful I could say about my Christmas vacation to St. Thomas this year, something that would distinguish it from the seven other Christmas vacations that I've flown back home for.

It was better than the year Mummy embarassed me on New Year's Eve.

It was not as good as my first year of college, when I came back and discovered that in addition to going out to the Old Mill on Saturday nights like we did in high school, the places to be were Duffy's on Fridays, and the Green House on Tuesdays.

It was better than the year I missed Christmas with my friends because I was in St. Kitts on a cruise, and I spent New Year's Eve crying on the Lido deck after Grammy had been mean to me.

It was not as good as my senior year of college when I was hanging out at Duffy's and one of my former classmates told me that I looked good. He was buzzed, but I still liked the accurate appreciation of my physiognomy.

It was better than that time I was only home for 48 hours.

It was more eventful than last year. And that's saying something.

I'm glad I went, and I'm glad I'm back. But every time I make that 12-hour journey from St. Thomas back to LA, a part of me always wonders if either place will ever completely feel like home.

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