It’s been 6 months since I got the keys to my place. I’m not entirely finished with decorating and to be honest, I don’t think I ever will be, but I think I’ve added enough personal touches to make it feel like home.

My favorite part of the house is the corner of my bedroom where my dresser sits. Atop my dresser are prints that mean so much to me. The Los Angeles print is self explanatory. The print of birds is a little less so. At my parent’s house, wild parrots squawk on telephone lines early in the morning before heading north and then return in the evening. These parrots were allegedly freed when a local pet store caught fire. In high school, the pre dual pane window days, I would curse at them for waking me up at such an ungodly hour on the weekends. But now I actually look forward to hearing those damn parrots whenever I stay at my parent’s. Isn’t it funny how sometimes the things you hate the most become the things you miss the most when they’re no longer around?