home is where the useless crap finds its way on to the walls

i was happy to leave. i wasn't happy to be gone. i am even less happy to be back.

there are memories here. everywhere. memories that kick me in the stomach and right behind the eyes. that bite my lip and take my breath away.

a stop on the train. the wine glass in the sink. the corner of a bar. a corner of the city.

nooks and crannies that hold nothing i want to hold on to. but something i just can't let go.

i am suffocated by the expanse of this city. and starving for some place that isn't filled with reminders.

...

my name has been on this lease for nearly exactly 6 months, and i just finally moved in.

hammer finally hit nail. boxes finally found their way to more inconspicuous corners. carpets were vacuumed. clothes were folded or hung.

it's about damn time.

no, i am not nesting. i'm not trying to make this place my own.

i am having house guests.

and as much as the best friend that will be taking up residence in my 'new' apartment for the next few days loves me unconditionally, i still feel compelled to put up a front that i have made my first solo residence my own.

the last investment i made in this place was the living room suite i purchased on credit from one of the many super-cheesy big box furniture stores plaguing this universe. it was even from a too embarrassing to name super model's 'collection'. it, like the beige box that i live in, has no character.

accessorizing with my most prized doodles, craft projects, family photos, balls of yarn, bottles of lotion, channukah decorations as many months after the holiday as possible, etc. is the least i can do to make it look like i live here. versus every other elderly gay man or twenty-something biatch that lives in around me.

i will never love this place. but while i am here, i might as well make a go of it - or at least put on airs.

i made a tough snap-decision when i decided to rent this place. it had many of the amenities i was looking for:

• safely above prowler level on the 3rd (sometimes 2nd) story
• an oasis behind an 8 foot fence in the heart of the most city-ish part of this city
  
• dishwasher, new carpet, washer/dryer, 9 foot ceilings, central air, reserved parking space, pool, tanning bed, 'fitness center'

it had enough security features to make me feel 'all grown up' without worrying that a stranger was peeking through my windows at night (something that did happen in my first college apartment), or that vagabonds were sleeping on my doorstep, or that i wouldn't have a place to tan in the summer. it also had many other interested potential tenants. and should i waiver in my decision, what could have been my 'perfect' place, would've gone to the couple the leasing agent thought i was a part of for the first 6 or more e-mail exchanges.

but it had no charm. no inspiration.

it is comfortable. but reminds me of my old apartment in too many ways (laiminate counters and floors, metal blinds, that horrible mesh shelving). and it reminds me that i took the safe road all too often.

so i can't get my mind off of the 1.5th floor registered historic apartment with the refinished hardwoods, updated kitchen, wrought iron framed balcony, and brightly lit dining area that would've served beautifully as an art studio? what of it? yes, i chose new carpet and an in-unit washer/dryer combo over a charming inspiring space across from a quaint park and inside of a neighborhood association. i am still learning.

sometimes, oftentimes, i don't give myself enough credit for being only 23 years old. i have never felt my age, and now i'm finally learning to tell myself that the mistakes that i am making, the snap decisions, the taking the easy way out, the jump at every impulse whether it will break my heart or worse, are okay. i am learning. i am, gasp, acting my age.

which isn't really so bad for someone who totes around her blackberry like a badge of honor, thinks being a work-a-holic who travels internationally on business is special and passes for 28 in bars.

it is unfortunate that i had to learn the lessons i am still learning this year. that i had to end one dead-end relationship, just to enter another, only a month later. that it is okay to just close the door. and not open it again. that walking away is sometimes the high road.

that 5 vodka drinks at altitude will give you a mean hangover, even if the same amount won't at sea level. that it's not that much fun to not remember the events of the night before, although it is funny, sometimes. anecdotally.

that sometimes a kiss is just a kiss. and sleeping on the couch is sometimes just a really good idea.

that there i no good reason i don't walk the mile and half to work, ever. even though i drive a hybrid. and no good reason i don't go to yoga/the gym/burn any additional calories, at all.

that my mother deserves to be forgiven. and so do i.

that friendships mean more than anything. ever. especially ones with people who don't stop answering your phone calls, regardless of how many times you beg for, and then ignore, their advice. that when you finally do listen, and it still breaks your heart, they will continue to answer your calls. or maybe even visit. and not judge you, even if you haven't hung a single thing on the wall in 6 months.

that a 9 year old will love you endlessly, regardless of how much of their life you spent across the continent. that a father knows the the depth and severity of a broken spirit, no matter how much a daughter refuses to give name to it.

i am 23, and i am still learning. but i for once my eyes are open to the process. i am participating.

there are many things i will (ugh, dreaded word coming up) resolve to accomplish/avoid in the coming year. i will make a list (to come) and i will fail to accomplish/avoid many, or all, of the bullet points.

regardless, i will learn. and start the cycle all over again next year.

as long as i am moving in the general direction towards the shape of the person i would like to consider myself in 2, 5, 10, years from now. i'm fine.

first stop: table for one.

...to be continued...duh duh dunnnnn

(p.s. i just realized i'm showing every resident of the building across the parking lot my britney, you're welcome building 4...wait...why are all of your blinds closed so tightly? wishing i chose housing option b? me too)