1. What do you think of when you imagine your
favorite places?
2. How
do you unwind over a long weekend (since it’s fall break)? Please be appropriate. No drugs and stuff.
3. What
is one talent that you wish you had? Is there
anyone you know who has this talent? To what
extent would you go to acquire this talent? (Example: you wish you could play
the flute. Your grandmother plays the
flute. You would totally battle your
grandmother to acquire her flute playing ability. It is an epic battle.)
Okkkkaaayy. So I pick prompt numero uno because I’m
currently experiencing the cabin fever, but I got some quality Netflix time, so
it’s not all bad. Glass half full. Anyway, for the sake of actually wanting to
read this I will keep my list of favorite places to three;
1. My bedroom at my dad’s house
2. Half Moon Bay, CA
3. Midway, KY
With my parents I try to stay pretty neutral; however,
not all bedrooms are created equal. My
room is like most, walls, closet, bed, chair, etc. But I do enjoy the orange
walls which go from a soft creamy orange in the daytime to a golden orange in
the evening. My bedroom furniture is
black and based around my piano, which I’ve had since I was four and still
barely know how to play (I would totally battle an old lady for epic piano
playing skills). My favorite part of my
room though is my bed. One of my
favorite activities on a Saturday afternoon after a cross country meet is to
curl up in my bed and marathon Netflix. Also,
I attached a bunch of yellow Christmas lights to my bed, and I turn those on in
the evening, and everything looks like a magical fairy wonderland, and if you
think I’m cheesy and Pinteresty I will fight you. It’s so peaceful.
Half Moon Bay is a tiny town north of San Francisco
that we found while driving around one day (my dad used to live outside of San Francisco
and I would spend half the summer there).
The town had a main street with a few art studios and antique
shops. Once you left the main street
though, there wasn’t much except for a few shacks along the beach. Most of the inhabitants were probably
hardcore surfers. Past the surfer shacks
and artsy shops there was just you and the road, meandering along the coast. This is the fun part though. Climbing along the jet black cliffs and rocks
while the dark grey waters crash in the caverns below. Scuttling crabs and starfish in the tide
pools. The spray of the salt water hitting
you and mixing with the cool drizzle. It
was pretty awesome.
The majority of my life has been spent centered around
one house in Midway. It was always known
as the big white next to the church (but which church???). It’s the house my parents bought when they
first moved to Kentucky from Hawaii in 98.
It’s the house they rented to the lovely elder couple that baby sat me
when we moved to Georgetown. It’s the house
where my gram grams and aunt live now. It’s
home. My favorite pastime was romping around
the backyard, climbing the pine trees, making flower chains, and listening to
the hourly church bells chime next door.
Whenever I walk down to the college in the spring I like to walk through
the flooded grass with bare feet, and in the fall I drop leaves off the stone
bridge and run to other side in time to watch them disappear down the
creek. Every fall midway has a fall
festival, which I used to call the fall vegetable because I was a little child
with a large lisp.
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