Home (?)

I have mixed emotions about my hometown.  Mainly because I never really considered it my "home".  We left Japan when I was 9, moving to a base in Montgomery, AL.  When I was 12, my dad retired from the Air Force and we moved to a little, country town just north of the base. 

I was devasted.  Even at only 12, I considered myself a city girl, and more of a "global citizen" than an American citizen.  Moving to this tiny, hick town felt like a death sentence to me. 

But like most kids, I adapted and settled in, making the best of my life in Wetumpka, always knowing it was only temporary, and I'd be leaving as soon as I possibly could (and I did). I made a lot of really good friends during my 8 years here, we had a lot of fun, and I have tons of great memories of my time here.  But it's still doesn't feel like home to me.  My parents have lived here for almost 30 years now, so it's most definitely their home, but somehow, it's just not mine.  When people ask me where I'm from, I don't say "Alabama".  I just say I've lived all over the place, and don't come from any place in particular (I was born in Missouri, but we left there when I was just a few weeks old, and I've never been back).

That being said, I've really enjoyed coming back and reconnecting, face-to-face with so many of my high school besties, some that I haven't seen in 15+ years.  We've strolled down memory lane, shared some laughs and loved on each others kiddos.

Our first day in town, I met up with a bunch of friends at Chick-a-filet for lunch.  Later that night, we met up again for dinner at a local Mexican restaurant (my first Mexican food in over 3 years!  DELICIOSO!)   We stuffed our faces with yummy queso dip and margaritas and spent the evening reminiscing, swapping stories and discovering that apparently I was the ring leader of the vast majority of our.........adventures (misadventures?).  Of course, that's not how I remember it at all, but everyone else agreed that I was, in fact, the mastermind behind most of our escapades.  Funny how time can blur the edges of your memories......

Note:  Donna, Lori and I became friends in the 7th grade, we were all only 12 years old. Debra, Jeanna, Monica and I became good friends during high school.

Anyway, pix from Ranchito Morin:

E devouring his fried ice cream (how fattening does that sound  FRIED ice cream?)

Clockwise from the left: 

Lori, Monica, Debra, Donna and yours truly (check out my cleavage! Woo hoo!)

Our spawn, L to R: 

 Daniel, Jesse, G w/ Miss Sylvia, M w/ baby Nico, E and Phoenix

E and Sylvia, both 5 years old.