After 13 years in their Carmichael "dream" house, my mother and stepfather are moving. This weekend they asked me to look through their storage for my childhood items that I wanted to save. I haven't seen some of these items in over 10 years. After a lot of agonizing, I'm shipping everything back to NYC because I'm not quite ready to let go, nor do I think I should have to. My entire young life somehow fits into three giant crates. I found toys, my first zines and comics, journals I had forgotten I ever written, and my first musical instrument. Life is a strange dream. One of the last things I did in my hometown of Sacramento, CA before moving to NYC was to create & manage a film festival. With a lot of help from my friends, I did it. Sometimes I forget about this -- that I can make things up and make them happen -- and finding this old program reminded me. Revisiting my past -- right before I return to NYC again -- means something. Today is a significant day... because my past self just reminded my present self that I am not done yet. Nope, not even close.