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Thursday, Jul. 22, 2004 - 12:04 a.m.

You know that classic story where an unassuming person is just milling around in some house and happens upon an old note, either written by his or her younger self or by some other person with whom he or she has some pre-destined connection? This completely cliche event happened to me today.

My mother once recovered for me a beautiful half-clam shell chair, a total prize for a teenage girl. Today I was relaxing in this chair and, distracted by a very intense conversation I was having with someone, set my hand behind my back and inadvertantly into the seam of the cushion. There I found a folding piece of lined notebook paper on which was written two rather boring entries from my junior year in high school.

What amazes me about this occurence is that it happened at all, that the note was written in 1998 (I mentioned my US history class in the entry.), and that today I had watched VH1's show called 'I Love the 90s.'

First of all, I did not love the 90s, and second, I don't really remember a single thing this VH1 tv show mentioned as happening in 1998. I consider myself lucky in this point.

Remember my confusion as expressed in the last entry of this journal? Well, I think that much of my confusion as to returning home results from that my teenage years are really an absolute blur to which there is mercifully no return. Essentially, returning to the place in which I was raised is confusing because things are more in focus, and I really haven't had to deal with that before now.

Hearing my mother laugh gives me inexplicable joy, and how do I live my life with that in mind? I am totally fascinated by the utter cuteness of my cat's white furry feet. So, what am I supposed to do all day when my cat's feet are so mesmerizing? In high school, these things were so close to me all the time that I rarely gave them second thought.

Now, I am surrounded by people and things that make my life full, and that my life is under constant movement makes loving these people and things hard but inescapable.

This is my first enlightened reflection upon my arrival home. Please don't expect these everyday. Chances are, you will soon be seeing a lot of pictures of my cat and, possibly, a kitten that I will sucker my parents into adopting.

In this more light-hearted vein, I want to say thank you to so many of you who are visiting this journal. Also, I miss all of you in Tacoma, especially the man I love.

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