Walking towards my mother in the kitchen, I hear my father’s voice calling my mother so excitedly. His voice sounds so much more real in person than over a long distance telephone call. The first part of our apartment leads to our dining area. I can see the lines in our light blue carpet from where my mom had vacuumed just minutes ago.

me while I watch her stir-fry vegetables in a wok. She mixes in some rice she cooked earlier and throws some onions into another hot saucepan with spices and Cayenne pepper. I hear the sizzling onions, and can imagine them jumping up and splashing hot oil around. As soon as the onions start to cook up, the strong sharp aroma of onions and Indian spices fill the air. The aroma spreads fast, as if it was a tornado running through our living room racing to get the blanket of scent as far as it can reach. I suddenly hear the familiar background noises of my 2 parakeets chirping away in their normal conversation. The traffic on the main street can be heard through the open windows, and the low hum of voices comes from the office where my father and his employee are talking about the daily occupancy for today. The walls of our hotel aren’t insulated for noise very well, so in the busy mornings it isn’t very quiet. Luckily by mid morning our place is empty. As I glance at the clock !

My girlfriend calls our apartment “cozy”, but I find it small. The apartment falls right behind the hotel lobby, which allows us to hear the faint sounds of the phones ringing from time to time. As I move to the couches in the living room area, I sink in the blue velvety upholstery of the sofa. Putting my feet on the familiar cherry table, I see the scratches and the marks that my brother and I brought on the furniture with rough use through the years. At nighttime our place heats up easily so it is always cozy and warm. Sometimes the lights give too much heat so we have to keep the lamps dim to let us cool off. Our home is always a little too warm or too cold. In the mornings when you wake up, you will always be trying to cover every inch of your body with the warmth of your sheets. With long legs like mine I always wake up with my toes freezing. The weather reminds me of San Luis Obispo. The warmest place in our apartment is the dining room. It is the center of daily life. N!

In the afternoon the house seems so empty with my brother still at school. I almost know what he’s going to do as soon as he comes in through the door. As I hear the car pulling in, I fixate on the familiar hollow noises of the doors opening and shutting in my father’s white Lexus. The heavy sliding glass door opens, and my brother walks in with his blue Jansport bag pack on his shoulders. I see he got a haircut, and looks taller because he is wearing hiking boots. He gives me the perplexed look with a hint of a smile on his face, and I immediately realiz

Some topics in this essay:
Sunnyvale California, Luis Obispo, , Cal Poly, Inn Suites, front desk, San Luis, kitchen counter, san luis obispo, preparing lunch, luis obispo, finish eating, looks tired, college miss, home parents, goes straight, san luis,