Ramble, ramble, rant.
Coming back to the city you started in stirs different emotions in each of us. As I sit in what is now my five year old nephews bedroom sipping a beer while the rest of the house is sound asleep, I find my mind racing backwards and forwards in time and memory. It seems unsure of which direction to focus on. Hanging out in this bizarre limbo makes all my emotions flighty. I am a guest in my parents home and I share my home with three girls that have full intentions of fleeing to all sides of the planet in a year from now. Being here and surrounded by the physical representations of all my youth and teenage life lessons and routines, I savor every moment of this limbo I find myself in because every day has the potential to hold brand new things. I know how true the saying "you are only young once" is on nights like tonight. Flying back and forth in time via my imagination, I know that this is the time in life where we can do anything. When I hold a degree in my hand that says I am certified to teach students, I am off and running. I have no dream of a ring hitting my finger the same day that my diploma hits my hand. I don't have a mortgage, I have a 12 month lease. I don't have children, I have a (relatively small and independent) cat. I don't have a cubicle job, I have mounds and mountains of student loans and the opportunity to find work anywhere. It's an exciting and horrifyingly scary time.
There are few places in the world that I can seek solace these days. Because of this, I was reminded tonight how much I appreciate my car. It may sound stupid but, without a car for three years, I had forgotten how soothing a late night drive can be. Anyone who sees the laughter, the tears, or the embarrassingly off-key tone in which I am singing will be gone as quickly as the light can turn green. There is no television, no bills, no list of to-dos, and no social networking or method of outside communication beyond my phone (which is easily ignored). The feeling of driving down the abandoned streets of a city, the humid air rush through the windows, and singing your heart out should be bottled and sold for millions because there is nothing else like it. I love nothing more than to be left with my thoughts and 16 gigs of my music. I am in control of where I am headed toward or away from. I want to make my Grandmother proud of the way I use her last gift to me and I can thank her for these moments of clarity and freeing isolation.
I find myself wondering where I will be in a year. I know where my priorities, finances, heart, and interests lie today but I will be fascinated to see how they all align 11 months from now.
There are few places in the world that I can seek solace these days. Because of this, I was reminded tonight how much I appreciate my car. It may sound stupid but, without a car for three years, I had forgotten how soothing a late night drive can be. Anyone who sees the laughter, the tears, or the embarrassingly off-key tone in which I am singing will be gone as quickly as the light can turn green. There is no television, no bills, no list of to-dos, and no social networking or method of outside communication beyond my phone (which is easily ignored). The feeling of driving down the abandoned streets of a city, the humid air rush through the windows, and singing your heart out should be bottled and sold for millions because there is nothing else like it. I love nothing more than to be left with my thoughts and 16 gigs of my music. I am in control of where I am headed toward or away from. I want to make my Grandmother proud of the way I use her last gift to me and I can thank her for these moments of clarity and freeing isolation.
I find myself wondering where I will be in a year. I know where my priorities, finances, heart, and interests lie today but I will be fascinated to see how they all align 11 months from now.