Week 1: Roots

I am not the type of person who is tied to chronology. I think some of the best writing I have had the pleasure of reading doesn’t follow a strict set of chronological order. That being said, I am attracted to place holders. I think it is the way my brain works.

That’s what this is; a place holder.

If I am being honest —which is kinda the point of this blog— I am struggling writing about that first week. Maybe it is too much honesty so early on or maybe I need more time to reflect on it. Either way I’m not in a place to write it; yet.

I hope this small admission an act as place holder in the mean time.

For now I leave you with this:

Where I grew up, we were told that we were the Apricot Capital of the World.

At the end of every school year, sometime at the end of May and beginning of June the entire city descends on the downtown for the annual Apricot Fiesta. Known to locals as just, Fiesta.

The pinnacle of my existence from the time I can remember until I was 21, was Fiesta. Now the thought of it sends me into a near panic attack.