Home Sweet Home

I had some friends from Roswell come down this weekend to visit the roomates and I. We love having company come down because it isn't too much of a hassle to have them in our townhome. Whenever family or friends come down it makes me long for home: my two dogs, my huge queen sized bed, my windowless room, the bigscreen, my back deck... I miss the privacy I guess would be the central theme. In Roswell, however, it is not always so private. Whenever I drive my red sports car through my neighborhood, even at the speed limit, I am always eye balled by the parents who are walking letting their children ride their bikes a hundred feet in front of them and yell at me when their kids veer out into the road. Teenagers are hated in Roswell by many of the young parents. I can't blame them because many people moved here when Roswell was featured in a few magazines as one of the top ten cities to raise a family in the U.S., but then again there are thousands of students in the area who work, spend money, and help the economy as much as the young parents. There are maybe four or five highschools within fifteen minutes of my house and regulations such as no Junior/Senior war and ten o'clock curfew for minors are in strict effect. After I think about all the balogna that I went through before I left leaves me just a little less home sick so that when I do get to go home, I'm glad im only visiting.