Friday, May 10, 2013

Bridge Over Smelly Water

When does going home ever start to feel like coming home? Is it when you open the door to your childhood house after a long absence? Is it when you see old friends, visit old haunts, do all the things that you once did before? Only now, you're older, and life has churned and shifted into a new suspension... Or can you never recapture that feeling, the settled, quiescent placation in your head that you are, indeed, where you should be? But then again, do you need such feelings at all?

Those are some questions I've been asking myself now that I've been immersed in the strange ten-day haze that is my proper summer vacation. Over the past week (and for the next three days), I've seen old friends with sometimes unrecognizable new lives, done a few things I did back in high school but... like, anachronistically (gone movie-hopping in our theatre in the middle of noon on a monday, bubble tea in the middle of the night, Starbucks and just driving around with Catherine.. but we're old, and feeding bad shopping habits in a ghost town shopping mall).

Is May the month where homecoming college kids quietly take over the town, re-immersing themselves into a suburbia that knocks the wind right out of their sails? By June, we're on to greener pastures.

Babbling aside, there's a bridge down the street from where I live that connects our neighborhood to a "sister" neighborhood. I call it a bridge because fences flanked the passageway, and technically it crossed over a huge cylindrical sewer pipe containing a little creek. Both sides of the bridge used to be swathed in trees and in my middle school days, I'd jump the wobbly plastic fence and venture down through the woods to visit the little creek and breathe in the smell of... well, sewage. It was pretty gross, actually. During my last year of high school, the huge pipe broke and the road caved in. For a while there was a huge sinkhole, but this time when I came back, they rebuilt everything and removed all the trees surrounding the creek, leaving this picturesque little clearing. Perfect to take pictures in!

I got a little bit of street style (or, um, off-road style HAHAHAHA) with Catherine. I really loved her top, the lace detailing was incredibly intricate and I thought the see-through lace was flirty and mysterious. But it wasn't cheap boring lace patterns like I've sometimes seen (and quickly discarded). Really awesome patterns. She also had these awesome, thrifted kitten heels that kind of kept sinking into the dirt, so that was bad, though the heels themselves were cute and otherwise practical. We took a few photos and ran before the mosquitoes could come out in full force and feast upon our flesh.

To orient you, this is Catherine mid-twirl. LOOK AT THAT LACE DETAILING.
I didn't notice until I edited these photos, but Catherine is really pale (not a bad thing! most Asians consider this a compliment...=_=) Add to that the fact that these photos were a little bit over-exposed, she was practically glowing. In a pulsating light from within kind of way. 

Here, we have Catherine in her natural habitat. As we can tell, she is rather unperturbed by the camera's presence. She seems to be freaking a leaf.

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