packing/not-packing

i need to wake up superearly to start the trek to JFK. it's almost 11, i'm fidgety and restless, and although lately i've been doing all sorts of traveling without this feeling, inevitably when i go home i have a night of uncomfortable packing/not-packing.

i want to wear my new boots on the plane and the tan button-up man's shirt thats so comfy. trouble is, it's my ex boyfriend's, and i would loathe for him to see me wearing it. i do not look forward to seeing him at all, actually, but with a week in vegas, i doubt i could miss him.

things like this make these trips rocky at times. i love home. there is a feeling there that can't be duplicated anywhere else on the planet for me. there's also a lot of shit there that i want to leave behind there,shit that still makes me uncomfortable.

i want to focus on days at the pool with the girls and drinking high life with my brother in the desert at night, and decidedly un-focus the lens when it comes to awkward run-ins and the like. problem is i sometimes run into these things when i'm drunk and something about being drunk and home makes me especially rowdy.

but part of growing up is keeping my temper, and maybe i can do less of the stuntin downtown and more of the chillin with fam and homies.

but i'm going to wear that fucking shirt.

it's mine now.