Agnes Street

Me & Me Familia

When i ask people to come over I usually ask them to come over to my house- you know the old brick building in Hollywood. However, it has become increasingly aware that my home is still located on Agnes Street. I have spent the last seven days here with my mother who threw out her knee while line dancing at a charity event- apparently the West is still wild. With her unable to drive I have become her driver which actually has allowed for us to spend time together. During this time I have been on the phone with friends and family and when asked where I was I referred to myself as being home. 'Oh, do you want to go do something?' friends would ask, my reply was no, I mean I'm home as in at my parents house. I dont know at what point in my life I will stop referring to this house as my home. I did grow up here however I have been living on my own since 19, yup 15 years. almost half of my life.

When the earthquake occurred yesterday I was taking a nap- working graveyard leaves me napping often- upstairs in my old room. I immediately jumped into the doorway as I watched the walls turn to jello. However its not the earthquake I found most interesting, rather it was the memories that this event triggered. I could remember standing in the doorway in prior quakes with my sisters and shouting out to family downstairs who dove under the table for safety. This time when the shaking stopped it was I who checked on my mom. However, as I went downstairs to check on my mom something weird happened. While running down those stairs I felt like that little girl again. It was very surreal.

Interestingly enough I have 7,523 photos in my iphoto library and none of those are pictures of this house. Remember old time photos with families standing on lawns with their houses boldly behind them, I have none. I think this house will always be my 'home'. It also made me realize how fortunate I am to still have access to this house and that my family still gathers here on holidays. My best friend recently lost his home, by lost I mean it was demolished, obliterated, existing no more due to relocation by the city. I felt for him as he was forced to not only move personal belongings that had been gathered there for three decades, I felt for him as he lost his 'home'. I realize how fortunate I am to have my own dwelling, however I am so much more fortunate that I can still go 'home'.