Come Fly With Me (Happy Holidays)

I've had a month of nothing but travel and I am exhausted. I bet you are too doing all that holiday stuff with your families and friends. I'm gonna get some much needed R & R. 

Happy Holidays!!!

Come fly with me in 2015…

To Finally Be

I came "home" last Wednesday. I still cannot believe I am here. A few nights ago I borrowed a can opener. I'm surrounded by boxes of things I no longer fit, like or want. I walked twenty minutes to the grocery store. I took the bus clear across town out of boredom. This has all happened too fast. I have changed. It isn't about the city and the skyline and the lost friends. I personally have changed. I've barely spent any time with myself in this apartment. It was supposed to be a household of two. I may have took this space by myself but I keep inviting others in. 

My potential roommate didn't like it. I figured his complaints were only a few and the place was the only thing I knew of. So I contacted the owner and made my own arrangements sight unseen. I was moving in within the week. I had to do a number of things to rush it. I shipped myself clothes, food. I turned on utilities for a place I'd never stood inside of. I also took the train down at the 11th hour knowing I could lose my deposit if I were late or didn't show. I don't know if it was the nerves or the motion but I threw up three times on the train. I wasn't in an aisle seat so I tormented my seat mate. Even with shipping things I wound up with four bags when I should have had two. I was bogged leaving. I couldn't even sleep for the combination of worry and excitement. I had a hotel room just in case and I barely slept five hours with two beds. 

I am moving slowly. I also have comfort in purging things. I'm no longer sentimental. Frankly, I am no longer attached. I sat a chair out on the curb I've been lugging since I was sixteen. I "accidentally" broke a plate I had deemed ugly but only kept because my mother gave it to me. I have a growing pile of random things I don't even understand how I got in the first place. I can't even go into the amounts of expired food and medicine that was on the verge well before I put them in storage. I also cannot believe how many shoes I have. I recall getting rid of about twenty pairs of shoes and I still feel overwhelmed by whats remaining. I find myself opening something and telling myself "this is nice" when I chose it and have owned it. 

The freedom is the most overwhelming. What do I do with myself? Should I read a book? Should I watch all 3000 HD channels I have? Should I take this new commuter train all the way to Sanford? I'm honestly bored. I'm typically up early, still waking to my mothers pills alarms. Once up I'm not hungry so I find myself analyzing light switches or washing things in the dishwasher because the water is included. I find myself noticing pointedness of spoons. I have a hundred bottles of thickened nail polish. I bought headbands a few days ago just to discover two unused packs of them. I'm scared to check my printer ink head for it may be fused to the insides of my printer. I threw away an entire box of things from my childhood including weird magazine clippings and clothes. 

I've narrowed down the things I cannot live without to one tote in the corner of my closet. I cannot find my trash can. I hate all of these sheets. I had bought Christmas cards in 2012 with "Seasons Greeting" in many languages. So it felt good to sit down and make out these cards to the people I love. I had just enough forever stamps. I messed up my address at least seven times so I'm down quite a few envelopes. I've done laundry twice. I walked to Panera and ogled at all the lines for brunch around here. I've missed a lot. I see now this place isn't so bad. It may even be too much. But it feels good to finally be.

North Carolina

Oh boy. Time to say goodbye. Farewell to chicken and biscuits. No more "hi you"s in the grocery store. Hats off to incoming winter. I can't find my winter scarves anyways. I've been packed since June. Anything acquired or bought just gets packed up too. I have always been prepared to leave, just waiting for my cue. And just like France, as I am leaving, I feel some strange tie. I guess it'll remain because my mother is determined not to leave. At least I'll have a room where things will stay unchanged. There will be evidence of my stay. Maybe when I come back the food and the country greetings welcoming. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all…