On not going home

Well I actually survived yet another birthday, which means that yours truly is now a whopping twenty-three years old. Seven years until the big three-oh. Can you believe that? I know I can't because seven years ago I was sixteen. Sixteen. And sixteen doesn't seem that long ago at all. I think its time I made the conscious decision not to turn thirty. No, really!

All joking aside my birthday really did go alright. I mean yeah, I was alone and it sucked bad, but the peace and quiet was really nice and I stayed in my pajamas all day, which I never do so that was pretty nice.

I just wish I had more to look forward to this year. I keep telling every one that I'll be going home at some point this year but truth be told, I just don't see it happening. My parents have only paid for a ticket one time and to be perfectly honest I'd rather at least ONE of them come see me than to make the trip myself. I mean the odds of them ever seeing my house are slim to none. I lived my life there with them for twenty years, I'd just like them to show some kind of sincere interest in my life here. Whatever.

I've been missing all my friends in California just lately. I had some good ones and here, for the most part, there really isn't anyone for me. I mean there was always Taylor but with that over...*sigh* I don't know. I don't want to move back to California or anything. I'm just tired I guess and life was so much easier back then.

Hope you all had a merry christmas and a happy my birthday.