It’s like everytime I come back here, I take in consideration the idea of moving back home. To the place I grew up every summer. To the place where I was born. To the place where the majority of my family lives. To the place where my first home was. I love New York. The weird weather. The lifestyle. The not so smiley people. But I love California. It’s my first home, & I always feel a bit more happy than I usually am when I’m here. I’m happy as it is when I’m in New York. But I feel a little bit more complete when I come back to see my family in California.

I feel like I’m just rambling. I never really post my personal thoughts here. My laptop broke, too, so I’m typing this shit from my phone. It’s 1:05am PST. I am so jetlagged.

For the past month, it didn’t hit me that I’m going to be gone for six weeks to be in the state where I was born. Last year, three weeks wasn’t enough time to reconnect with my family after not visiting in four years. I’m sick to my stomach as of just a few hours ago when it really hit me. I’m excited yet upset to be going back. Possibly going to Santa Cruz. Possibly going to Disneyland and/or Great America. Possibly going to LB. The important thing is that I’m going to see my family. But this is going to be the longest time I’ve ever spent away from both my mom & my boyfriend.

California, here I come.