Confessions, musings, and sordid details of a Generation Y redhead.

Tracy, Jake, and I are driving to Long Beach on Saturday to meet Alex and see family in the L.A. area. Rrrrreeeeeeaaaaaaallllllyyyyyyy glad Jake's going with me. I don't want to be the only one who's awkward and out of place. Seems like Tracy and Alex are only excited, not at all nervous about this whole thing. Part of it is probably that I don't like leaving Grass Valley, and Jake going with me is really going to help. Wasn't sure he really wanted to go, but when I asked, he said he wanted to, but he didn't want to intrude on family space. Let's just put it bluntly. These people, biologically, are family. But emotionally, they're no more related to me than anyone else I was only friendly acquaintances with in high school. Jake, Nattie, Zac, Jesse, Lance, Christy, John, and the other people I work with are only less family to me than my mother and Eric and Jack are. That is to say I only consider my mom more of my family than them; other than that, Tracy's probably just below them. These strangers who make up my dad's family aren't anywhere near the people in my life on a daily basis. They're so much more my family than these strangers that I would (and did, last trip) feel weird and out of place without at least one of those people with me. Plus...I need a smoking buddy to sneak away for a few minutes with.