My sister recently had a birthday, so I find myself thinking a lot more about my younger years. This is quite a bit, since I tend to be pretty reflective anyway. I remember the Girl Scout outings that ended before I wanted them to. I remember the art classes that weren’t quite enough for me. I remember the shower in my old home; where I would run the water hotter than I could really stand it and then open the window and let the chilled morning air in while I watched the sunrise. I remember my old set of blocks and my horses that had more personality in my mind than the people I went to school with. I remember quite a bit, but that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about. I’ve had two things in my head; one realization and one stuck image. First the stuck image. I must’ve been around 6 or 7, before my sister was born, and there’s this picture of me at a children’s museum. It was a pretty cool one, where you could paint a car, experiment with instruments, go inside a house where it was always raining, and play in a theatre, complete with curtains and costumes. The picture is almost entirely taken up with the red velvet curtain that was part of the theatre, and through the break in the curtains you can see me. I was wearing a jean skirt and a shirt of-I can’t remember which color-and a leather-ish vest with pseudo-American Indian designs. For some reason the picture really speaks to me, even now. It was just a simple moment of me being a kid, not even looking at the camera, but I really like it. It reminds me of the daydreams I used to indulge in as a kid, and that I so rarely have time for as an ‘adult’. I’m pretty sure this picture was taken by my mom, and I haven’t been able to find it recently. Second the realization. This is kinda related to the remembering, cause or effect or neither, who knows? I’ve come to appreciate the fact that in every section of my life, I’ve had good parts. Even in middle school, which mainly sucked, there was the occasional place where I felt good, and had fun. In elementary school it was the actual learning, soaking up the books that I read through like water and the teachers that really cared. In middle school, it was the Girl Scouts and my best friend Ays, who helped me iron out the kinks in my life enough for me to be able to sleep at night knowing who I was. In high school, it was theatre and my friend J, who is still a big part of my life and I hope always will be. In college it was the social fun, learning about all the great things that other people had to offer and give and learning what they appreciated in me too. And now, I’m getting to enjoy my family again. I’m getting to enjoy art again. I’m taking time to talk to J again. I’m slowing down, and I hope I never have to speed up again. Ok, happier post: makes me happy.