This past Labor Day weekend, I found myself. I found myself, and I found myself, and I kept finding myself. I was maybe hoping to catch some shut-eye but I knew this was a slim to none chance. My family is always on the go, somewhere, anywhere, and so am I. I never sleep anymore, not really.
I made the 4.5 hour trek home, the wind providing new ways for my hair to become tangled and twisted in ways that a brush could never touch. I shouted along to the sounds of Ingrid Michaelson and Nirvana, John Mayer and a little bit of old school N'Sync. I found myself smiling for no particular reason. I was going home.
Saturday morning, I found myself sitting with Moni, chatting about a profession in psychology and Narcolepsy. And then I got called into the doctor's office, and I found myself wincing as the young and most likely inexperienced nurse poked and prodded the Hep A shot into my left arm. Although I asked for a SpongeBob band-aid (because Gavin thought that would be SO cool!), I recieved a nice road-runner bandaid, complete with the sting and aftermath of a shot worse than Tetanus. Moni punched my left arm several times on the way home, by accident.
That afternoon, I found myself yelling "Surprise!" with a bunch of Blue-Hairs at an 80th suprise birthday party. My family thought it might be nice to attend this birthday party for an older gentleman at our church. I have only really spoken to him a few times, so you can imagine my reluctance to go...but I found myself sitting on a chair that was constantly being attacked by gnats and bees of various kinds. Our pastor and his wife chatted me up about the trip. He wouldn't let go of the fact that I had been proposed to several times. I told him it was because I had Blonde hair. He said maybe it was because I was pretty. I kind of liked his answer better.
Sunday morning, I found myself sitting in a car with the windows down at 7:30AM. I was half-asleep, but ate my way through the buffet at breakfast with Moni and Mama. I learned that my mom had once been engaged to my dad. This woke me up. I had no idea. For whatever reason, I just decided they were high school sweethearts and left it at that. Nothing could have been more engaging that a conversation about the proposal over scrambled eggs and french toast sticks.
That afternoon, I made small-talk about Jimi Hendrix with a man who had a really lazy eye. I tried not to offend him by staring too much. I found myself eating lunch at a family reunion in which I had no blood relations. I did not know a single soul there except Aaron's intermediate family, and so I sat and chatted with my Aunt about sex and nude drawings. I must attract the kind of people who dare to start odd conversations with me. Maybe it's the blonde hair. The glasses?
That evening, I found myself in the arms of my best friend whom I have dearly missed all summer. We glimpsed the blue and orange sunset together, and he reminded me of what I love about being home. We shared fifteen frantic minutes, promises flying, smiles catching, and then it was over, but never for too long.
On Labor Day I drove an hour out of my way after visiting some friends at State College. I got lost and even my GPS couldn't save me. The entire trip back to Erie took way longer than usual, and it rained and I arrived back exhausted and hungry. But I find myself here, with my newly acquired cactus, simply content. Exhausted and still a bit hungry, but content.
Found.
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