Kerri (solan_t) wrote,
Kerri
solan_t

Reminisin' nis and nat and havin' such a good time

Was strangely reflective on the drive home today (well, I started out feeling predatory, but the timing sucks. ;) )

For some reason the poor, battered crystal hanging from my rear veiw mirror caught my attention and I started thinking about when I got it, and how long ago it was.



18 years. That's how long. 8th grade, spring of 1996. Jonathan Tasso and I were pretty much inseperable at school. You see one, the other was nearby. Recess, group projects, field trips (LOVED going to Poncho Theater, then roaming Pike's Place Market afterward until the ferry ride home. Can't remember but one play, and that not well, but LOVED the roaming afterward. Can't believe they let a class of 8th graders do that!) we were inevitably together. Never so much as held hands, tho. Then Dad got orders for Australia. Whoa, Washington State to Australia. There's a trip (return was even more of a shock - Australia to MAINE)! On my last day of school, Jonathan gave me a little box with the words "don't open 'til Australia" on it. It didn't actually make it to Australia. :p As I was trying to go to sleep in a sleeping bag in an empty house, I opened the box to find that little crystal. I was going to sunny Australia, so he gave me a sun-catching crystal. Is that not sweet? We coresponded pretty regularly the whole time I was in Australia. We lost contact about the time I moved back. I still have all his letters.

I was going to say that was the only I cried to move, but I would be wrong. I will tell that in a bit. I still miss the Puget Sound area of Washinton. I think it may just be the home of my heart, or my soul. An online friend (dugfromthearth) lives in Seattle and will occasionally post pictures of his backyard. I don't even have to be told who posted them, or where from . I just RECOGNIZE them as the Puget Sound area. And I dang near cry, I am so home sick... for somewhere I haven't been in 18 years! I'm a Navy brat. Until now, I had never stayed in one place more than three years. And I don't pine for ANYWHERE else, but there.

As for the other time I cried to move: late summer 1990 - packing for college. I ended up sobbing in a closet. I am sure there was just a little too much stress in knowing I was going to be SO FAR from my immediate family for so long for the first time in my whole life. My family WAS my home - nowhere was permanent enough to call home. But it was in packing up my toys that I lost it. Looking at the things that had given me joy so often, that I hadn't even looked at for so long (much of it had been in storage while we were in Australia and I hadn't bother really unpacking it) and I was boxing it up knowing I would NEVER play with any of it again. I was packing away my childhood. In retrospect, that was pretty dang tramatic. But the fact that I hadn't SEEN most of this stuff for about four years just seemed tragic to me.

Weird things run through the mind when driving, eh?



Oh, and I noticed on the way to work that there were only two bars worth of gas in the tank. Promised myself to remember to fill it before leaving for home. Failed. Thought to look at it in a panic just before DeSoto - three bars. What? After DeSoto - FOUR bars. Isnt' this backwards? By Lawrence it was back down to three. Put 12 gallons of gas in it. Weird.
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