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Day 96: Runaway

7/10/2015

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I was running away. 

Seething at my parents for some injustice, I was determined to escape this family, and live life on my own. At age 9, I was confident that I could create a better life on my own. 

Grabbing my backpack from my closet, I shoved in the necessities: change of clothes, diary, toothbrush, towel. I had recently read The Hatchet, so I knew that I needed to be prepared for any survival emergency. I grabbed a bag of trail mix, a flashlight, scissors, and for good measure, my dad’s hammer. 

It was mid-afternoon, and my family members all seemed to be preoccupied. I left the house without a goodbye, and started on my journey. I walked down the street, and found an empty lot with a tall tree. After swinging my backpack up onto a branch, I hoisted myself up. For the next few hours, I munched on trail mix while writing in my diary. 

By now it was early evening, and I was starting to get cold. I had forgotten to bring a jacket. As I scrawled my angry thoughts onto the pages of my diary, my emotions began to settle and quiet. My thighs were starting to hurt from sitting in the tree for so long. My thoughts began to drift to wondering what my mom was fixing for dinner, which was sure to be more satisfying than trail mix. 

As the sun started to disappear behind the hill, I resolved to return home. The comfort of a warm bath and my own bed sounded far better than sleeping in an uncomfortable tree all night. When I came through the door, I expected my family to be relieved at my return. Instead, I found my brothers playing video games, and my parents talking with each other in the kitchen. Everyone was carrying on with life as usual, completely unaware that I had even left the house. 

“Oh well,” I thought to myself. I flopped onto the couch next to my brothers, and decided to leave my runaway plan for another day.
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Day 95: In the Dark

7/9/2015

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I was sitting in a dark, chilly movie theater with my friends. 

Next to me was Jared. He and I had known each other through middle school, when he seemed to go to great lengths to annoy and hassle me. I'm pretty sure he was the first person to whom I ever directed the word "asshole." Now that we were in high school, we had evolved into friends with shared interests, like soccer and drama. 

In the middle of the movie, I felt something starting to touch my hand. It was Jared’s hand. Slowly and gently, without even looking at me, he placed his warm hand on mine. Our hands remained there for the rest of the movie, while our attention stayed transfixed on the dragons and knights on the screen. When the film ended, he let go of my hand, and acted as if nothing had happened. 

It was like that moment was suspended outside of normal life, with neither he nor I ever mentioning it to each other.
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Day 94: Firefighters

7/8/2015

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I was in my little yellow house, cooking in the kitchen. It was my first place after college, where I lived with several friends in south Los Angeles. 

One of my housemates was in the kitchen with me, heating oil in a pot. Suddenly, she shrieked. I turned to see her pot of oil in flames. I could tell she was paralyzed with panic, so I instinctively grabbed the first thing nearby, which happened to be a large cup of water. 

Did you know you’re not supposed to throw water on flaming oil? We were not aware of this. I dumped the water into the pot, and WHOOSH, the flames shot about four feet into the air. We both screamed. And then for some inexplicable reason, the flames suddenly disappeared, as if someone had sucked them away with a vacuum. 

Later that day we did a bit of research, and discovered that covering the fire with a pot lid would have been quite a bit wiser.
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Day 93: Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough

7/7/2015

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When I was five, my Aunty Julee sent me a blue cassette tape of Michael Jackson music. 

From the first to the final song, I was hooked. Even though I had no clue what a “pretty young thing” was, or why Michael kept claiming “the kid is not my son,” the beats and melodies and punchy lyrics had me mesmerized. I played the tape at home on our cassette player, rewinding and fast-forwarding to my favorites. I had my parents loop the music when we were in the car running errands. 

Michael Jackson was my first love affair with music, and he reigned the unchallenged King for me for years.
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Day 92: Soul Loneliness

7/6/2015

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I have been thinking about friendship a lot these days. After moving to a new city nearly a year ago, my friendship base is sparse. There are some great people around us, but there are no relationships yet that feel safe, and deep, and mutually life-giving. I left those when I left Los Angeles. 

After spending fifteen years in LA, I had my tribe, my small, inner circle of people. These friendships had been through years of changes, life hurdles, and milestones. They were friends who had seen me at my worst, and called out the best from me. They were friends who stood next to me on my wedding day, and were the first people to hold my newborn son. In our final days of living in LA, I knew that the friendships would be the most difficult to leave behind.

I know that new friendships will grow and deepen in this new chapter of our lives. I am aware that each of my deepest friendships began with an awkward “hi, what’s your name?" I trust that friendships take time and patience.

But right now I am just sad. My soul feels lonely, and I miss my friends.
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