Goodbye, Perth

It’s weird to leave a place you’ve lived for 15+ years.  I moved internationally when I was younger, and even that was a huge adjustment.  It was strange to leave the friends I’d grown up with.  But I was younger.  I knew I’d meet kids through school, and I hadn’t yet hit puberty so I had that whole bonding-with-your-peers/teenage rebellion thing to go through.  In hindsight, it was an easy enough move, even if the adjustment time was still substantial. But now I’ve left behind the friends I made in highschool.  The friends I really grew up with.  The friends I worked with, who grew into the friends who were there when I needed them most.  The friends I met out when I was drunk and partying, the friends who transcended that...

Leaving on a jet plane

As I write this, I’m lying in the spare bed in my friend Emma’s house in Tasmania.  I left Perth last night, without any degree of certainty regarding when I might return (I mean, yeah, the USA will boot me out after I finish my degree, but will I be back sometime during those three years?  It’s odd to leave a place – a place you’ve called home for so long, without really knowing when you’ll go back to it). I have a week here in Tasmania with my Emmy before I fly to the USA.  This is good in many ways, in no small part due to spending a tremendous week somewhere new and fun with my best friend (who I haven’t seen in ageees!).  She and her mum picked me up at the airport, and her mum spent the car ride fussing over me,...


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