As fall break approached, me, Sarah, Emily and Briggs were trying to plan a nice vacation to Sarasota, Florida. But as it turned out, Briggs, whose car we planned on taking, was forced to go home to North Augusta. So our plan fell through. The monday before fall break I called my older brother and he surprisingly, happily agreed to drive the five hundred miles to pick me up.
He came on Wednesday and I drove the entire way back to my favorite city, Pittsburgh, I am more than happy to call home. This is significant because it was the first time I ventured on the high way. As lame as that sounds, it's true. I mean I am a phenomenal driver, even though millions claim that females can't drive, I am definitely an exception to that statement. The only thing is that I'm a speeder. I went well over the speed limit and made the eight hour drive in six. And my brother slept the whole time, so he couldn't reprimand me, which was okay by me.
Being home after such a long absence was strange. And I mean STRANGE. Everything seemed to quaint. So homey. I felt like a visitor in my own bedroom. My dog, Reuben, was angry at me and ignored me for the first 24 hours, but eventually caved. My mom and dad took turns cooking me the most delicious home-made meals and I forced my brothers to hang out with me. It was not the same. I didn't like the extra attention from my parents or the jealousy my brothers felt towards me for living so far away and having the time of my life. Going home was awesome, but something was different, something I just can't figure out.
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