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Sunday, January 8, 2012

2012

So. the news is out! Scott is trying to transfer to the University of Washington and we're moving to Seattle in April! yay! moving moving. as in never coming back to utah. ever. which is something i've wanted to do basically since i started at BYU. why do you think i graduated so quickly?

Anyway, it's mostly since i've basically been miserable since October. No job. No school. pretty much literally nothing to do. Sure i did some projects to keep me busy... but one can only crochet so much before you become arthritic. and i'd rather retain the use of my fingers thanks.
i've also been writing alot, which is a blessing. writing is a funny thing. i need people to read, but they never do. i guess they're just too busy. maybe i should just find an editor... hm. anyways...
but this semester will be better at least since i have an ASL class on tu/th nights. it's pretty cool so far and we've only had the one class.
when you sit at home doing nothing more intellectual than reading books for entertainment... you kind of start to feel stupid. watching a lot of tv and movies also helps in that feeling. but what was so great about the first class of ASL was that my linguist instincts kicked in right away. This is not my first rodeo. ASL will be language #6 if you count English and #5 if you don't. I know what to look for. I caught on to exactly what was going on pretty much immediately. grammar is going to be easy, and vocabulary should be actually fun. I've never learned any sort of gestulative language before. but after tones in chinese, it should be no problem. i felt actually intelligent for the first time in months. and a little cocky. i'll admit that.

anyway so that is the latest and greatest. i'm auditioning for a play, we'll see if i can actually do it though since i have the night class. it'll be fun though and i'm auditioning with a friend of mine. so at least it'll be interesting :D
my birthday is coming up and as usual i refuse to think about New Years Resolutions until my birthday. that is when my year begins. last birthday, i got Scott as my boyfriend. this year he's my husband. yay! he's been bragging about how wonderful his gift is to me and of course he won't tell me what it is. we've been playing a guessing game for the last couple of days just because it's fun. and of course i think of the most random things like:
-Quiddich robes
-A turtle named 'Goose'
-a teapot
-a postage stamp
-Tickets to a Paramore concert
-permission to dye my hair and/or shave my head.
scott didn't like that last one at all. but it's just funny. we decided that if we get a dog, we will name him 'Batman' and then we have to get another one and name it 'Goose.' don't ask. just assume that it's funny and laugh along with me. ready? hahahahahahahaha. ok. you can stop now.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Homeless

Home.

What do you think of when you hear that word? Do you think of mom or grandma's homemade cookies and hot chocolate? Do you think of curled up in blankets by the fire? Or maybe long summers having water fights in the backyard and lemonade stands that only last one afternoon. Your old bedroom that mom was always telling you to clean or your secret stash of ten-month-old halloween candy under the bed. Maybe not. Maybe you think of something more current. Maybe you think of your husband or wife kissing you hello as you walk in the door. Maybe dogs barking or cats rubbing through your legs. You might even think of your children, at whatever age, telling you about their day. That old painting on the wall or the piano keys that don't sound or the stain in the carpet from one night long ago. These images are all with fondness--for in every person there is always a desire to return home.
If home is a place, a house, a town; then i am and always have been homeless. I grew up a military brat. We've lived many places, had many houses, and seen many things. The first house i can remember was when we lived in Hawai'i. I was two. I don't really even remember much, though we lived in that house until i was six. I remember it being blue and white, three blocks from my school, or at least three crosswalks from my school, and not much farther to the beach. i remember our striped 80's couch and my dresser. i remember that we only had 3 stairs that were outside because it was a one floor house. but more than that i don't really remember.
our next house was in Texas and i remember it much better. It was grey and red brick. we had a large flower bed in the front and three trees in the backyard. I used to dig up blue bonnets and try to plant them in the backyard, but they always died after a few days. I remember that that was the first house we ever got to paint in. It wasn't much. mom got stencils and made pretty bouquets along the top of one wall in my room. She did them in the family room too, though those were more ornate. We also pained our bathroom. For the kids anyway. From about as tall as i was down, was blue. along the bottom was sand and coral and a few fish along the walls here and there. I remember maybe two of them were like stickers and we put one just above the back of the toilet. i don't know why i remember that, but i do. I remember our kitchen in that house, and when we put real tile on the floors. it was beautiful. i remember our dogs playing in the backyard. I remember roller blading and learning to ride a bike on Jade Spring road where we lived. I remember a lot of things about that house, that neighborhood, my friends, and my school. But i was 9 when we moved away.
We didn't have a proper house next. We had a townhouse in Japan. We were in 6E and then had to move two doors down to 6C when the rennovations needed to be made. There was espestous in the walls, the buildings were so old. I remember that there was a string hanging down to turn off the overhead light in my room, and on the end of that string was a glow-in-the-dark bead so i could find it when it was dark. I remember most things about that townhouse. I remember how nice the rennovated one was compared to the original. The kitchen cabinets weren't puke green anymore. That kitchen was so small... it amazes me now how my mom could've made us dinner in there. Only two people could fit. But i remember that townhouse. My initials are in the cement on the sidewalk leading up to the door of 6C. I put them there before we moved into it when it was wet. I remember the screen door, the three tiny parks that were so near our house. I remember my room, my bike, my piano teacher's house, my school that was painted bright blue, though our classrooms were in portables across the playground. I remember our dining room, our furniture, the computer room right up front. I remember climbing on the trashcans to get on top of the storage sheds in front of our house and the brightly colored banana spiders that were poisonous. but though i remember so much about that townhouse, out of all the homes of my childhood, it never really felt like home. It was temporary. We were strangers in a foreign land. The base we lived on was so small that there were no traffic lights. Only stop signs. you could literally walk everywhere and we often did. And then when i was twelve, we moved again.
We moved to Maryland where i faced most of the challenges i have met in my short life. Our house there i remember perfectly, as it is the house in which my parents currently reside. It is a red brick faced house with a three bay garage and a flowerbed out front. The backyard has a deck and is a rather steep hill. we don't play in it much. It was in this house that i realized that we weren't moving again. that friends weren't just people who put up with you for three years and then never spoke to you again, but people who cared for you. It was in this house that i finally got to paint my room green and have furniture all my own. Although i didn't mind having the old buffet as my dresser. I thought the cigarette burns on the ends were sort of funny--it gave the piece character. it was in this house that both of our dogs finished their lives. It was in this house that i truly learned how to cook, to write, and to play Tuba. It was in this house that i came to terms with a lot of things. It wasn't the place that i wanted to be my first and only home--but in a way it was.
Five years I passed in that house before i set off for Idaho to go to college. I lived with my grandma in her house. i was reminded of what i had felt my entire life. I was living somewhere, but it was temporary. i was a visitor, not a permanent resident. At least the bathrooms and kitchen weren't carpeted anymore in that house.
And then i transferred schools and lived in an apartment for the first time. this was really my first opportunity at living on my own. there were no grandparents or parents watching over my shoulder. It was a mostly pleasant experience, though roommates are hard to handle sometimes. i went back to maryland for the summer and when i returned i stayed in the same building, though moved two doors down into S203.
that first year in S203 was amazing. We all got along so well that it seemed like the closest to a home as we could make it. I don't remember any fights, any passive aggressive feats, nor any real problems. I remembered the decorations we put up for christmas and the miniscule amount of space we had. Not home. But close enough.
The next summer i spent in Florida working for Disney. That apartment was so much nicer than the one i had back in utah. But it wasn't home either. We couldn't put up decorations or damage the extremely white walls. but it was more than enough for the 4 months we spent there. but definitely a temporary living situation.
I spent the next two semesters and one term in the same apartment i had lived the year before. there were problems now, as there always are no matter the circumstance. it wasn't my home, the second floor of Campus Plaza, but it was my turf. I knew the ins and outs, i knew what to expect, and i knew a lot of people that still lived there. I was comfortable there even when things got nasty.
And then summer came and i spent it in Ecuador. How i loved those two months in the jungle. Life was so much simpler there. I could clear my head. I felt really and truly happy and free for the first time since i could remember. I was leading my life and i was leading it well. Our rooms there were basically three walls, a roof, and a screen to keep out the bugs. But it was definitely enough to keep us comfortable. We passed long hours playing card games and watching movies on laptops along with doing our research. I was not truly ever inside while we were at the field school. it was nice to be so close to such an amazing land.
and then i returned to the US and ten days later i was married. everything was going to be temporary, as far as living arrangements went, for a while. We got to our first apartment, which we thought was great at first but slowly grew to despise. Spiders were easily dealt with, but then the mice came.
we had a great opportunity come our way, though. My brother and his wife lived in a townhouse not far from us. it was a townhouse with a full apartment upstairs and downstairs. my brother and his wife moved upstairs when their neighbors moved out and we moved in downstairs. it was so much nicer! It was during this move that we realized how little we really had. it took us 6 hours to get everything into our new apartment and have it all organized and put away. it is in this apartment that i am writing this post.
and so you see, i have never truly had a home, if a home is a stationary place. I am homeless because i have been so transient rather than static. But i would not change my experiences for the world. Because home has come to mean something far deeper than a house or an apartment. To me, home is people. Home is people that i love. Over Christmas break, home was my family and friends back east. During new years home was sitting and watching a movie with my inlaws. I do not ever leave home behind because i carry it with me everywhere i go.

So long as i have those i love most in my heart, i am always home.