I am. . .

a girl who was born in the greatest city on Earth and raised in the tan house on the corner of Western Ave. The same house with the enormous backyard that made the perfect place to imagine.

I am. . .

from drinking primarily Arnold Palmers and eating burnt hamburgers.

shaggy red carpets and wood paneling.

the old Fleetwood Mac CD my mother would play for us before she would drop my sister and I off at Cox North Daycare.

I am. . .

an owner to every dog my family ever had. Like Suzie the Black spotted English Setter who went deaf because my dad took her bird hunting so many times. Or our ancient pomeranian Asher, who continues to surprise us of how much he can take.

I am. . .

attached to all the moments that I spent with family members when all I wanted to do was go do something else, but in the end I was glad I spent time with them. All the boring fishing trips with my father. Or the one summer I spent at my aunt’s house. Every morning instead of hanging out with my cousins I would go watch the olympics with my sick grandmother.

I am. . .

sentimental towards every beautiful teenage moment I didn’t realize would be over so soon.

the youth that I still get the pleasure of experiencing.

appreciative of the fact that I’ve lived in a place with so many adventures to find, if you look.

I am. . .

a lover of all the people who have impacted my life. Even if a couple broke my heart here and there.

learning from the mistakes I’ve made.

happy to be.