This is kind of the "junk drawer" of my world.
In it are photos, stray bits of information, big events and small ones, jumbled together alongside the screwdriver with the broken handle, old matchbooks and the duct tape that the dog chewed.
Then: Came to Bakersfield in 1991 for a job and swore I'd be gone in six months, a year tops.
Now: Approaching middle age (45 is the new 35, right??), house, career.
Here's to "living large" in Bako. Ha!
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