crumb trails

This a long overdue tag. I was supposed to post it a long time ago. This tag’s from Rhapsody. She wants me to go over my archives and pick a few posts about: Read the rest of this entry »

I like listening to Vonda Shepard’s song Neighborhood. I was playing it last night while scanning the shelves for a book to read when I spotted one of my scrapbooks, decided to get it, brought it down and sat on my bed. I started flipping through the pages. Most of the photos made me smile, not because of how funny we all looked then, but because of the memories they hold. As I flip through the pages, I was humming Vonda’s song in my mind, too:

Here’s a photo I’ve been looking for/It’s a picture of the boy next door/And I loved him more than words can say/Never knew it ’til he moved away

In my case, it’s not the boy next door (I don’t remember having a crush on one of the boys there–hahaha!) but the kids in the neighborhood–my playmates, my first buddies, my best friends and ates. It seemed so long ago already. Thinking about them now made me realize how much they had influenced my youth, the choices I made in my life as a teenager and even now as an adult. I didn’t know how important and how much they meant to me then until we started drifting apart; going away one by one. It happened unnoticed; maybe because we were all busy creating another world in school, making new sets of friends and discovering new things.

Faded pictures in my scrapbook/Just thought I’d take one more look/And recall when we were all in the neighborhood

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