Home Sweet Home

I’m back. Or at least I’m going to try to be back on this blog as much as possible. It’s been a good six months since I’ve blogged and I suppose I owe my loyal readers out there a little update. For starters, I successfully completed grad school in December-somehow managed to finish my thesis (in case you’re curious, I ended up dedicating it to people who don’t let school get in the way of their education) and got my diploma, although it’s still rolled up in the tube. For the next five months I referred to myself as a “lady of leisure.” This was more of attempt to put a positive spin on unemployment than an accurate description of my life. It hardly felt leisurely, minus the three or so weeks I dedicated to watching the OC. In all fairness, I deserved that. So what did I do besides watch the OC? I volunteered like a mad woman, went on lots of walks and runs, had a series of horrible encounters with technology, hung out with great friends, and of course, I job hunted like crazy. Truth be told, it was a phenomenal five months. The only downfall is I became even more attached to the great city of Athens. This place had become my home in a way I didn’t think was possible. The downfall of that development is that there is not a job market in this town. Come May I had to relocate when I took a job in Greenville working for The Family Effect as the Community Engagement Coordinator. “ How do I like it?,” you ask. We’ll it’s a job, for starters, and most days I like it alright…

Though I’ve been working in Greenville the past two months, I’ve been spending about a fourth of my time, aka the weekends, in Athens. I really dreaded leaving Athens and even more dreaded making Greenville my permanent residence. My lease doesn’t end in Athens until the end of this month so I figured I’d ride it out and be able to come back home on the weekends so as to ease-or hinder, depending on your point of view- my transition to a new place. It just really turns into my leading two lives, but that’s okay. Some people wish they could be so fortunate. I think it was a wise decision. I get to pack a little bit at a time, see all my friends on the weekends, and it helps that Athens is basically dead in the summer (one of the reasons I love this place, because it too sort of has two lives) and it makes it easier for me to imagine myself not being here. I tell you, though, I’m still not entirely convinced I’m ready to be away from Athens and I’m even less convinced Greenville is my second choice. The bottom line is that I don’t love that city, or many people in it, and I just don’t really see myself settling there. I’d been saying I wanted to stay in the south and I still do, but the pent up frustration from the past week or so does foster the ability for me to hear that little whisper in my ear telling me to go somewhere else, say New York or DC, and be in an environment that is much more suitable to the ideals and beliefs that make me me.

Let’s spend a little bit more time on this concept of home. There is the old adage, "Home is where the heart is"…but what does that mean? What do we really mean when we say heart? Should it be "Home is where your parents are," "home is where the majority of your stuff sits," :home is where you feel more attached than any other place," "home is where you sleep?" I’ve done a lot of traveling in my day and I feel like a little bit of me lives in several of the places I’ve visited. You know those places that remain permanently imprinted in your mind and you bet you could still navigate your way around despite the fact you haven’t been there in years? Can those places be home too? Or is it possible to have more than one home? Sure tons of people have a handful of houses, but are those places home?

My dear friend Stephanie uses the phrase “Home is where your cookbooks are.” Without asking for an explanation from her or trying to personalize that saying for myself, I found myself really clinging to this one, especially while packing up my stuff in Athens. The bookshelf was one of the first things to get packed, but I left out my cookbooks. The next thing to get packed was the kitchen-all of my plates and silverware, all the pots and pans, all the food-but my cookbooks remained on the shelf. Is home still where your cookbooks are even if you don’t have any food or utensils to make good use of the cookbooks?

How would you finish the saying “Home is _________________?” I’d be curious to hear from you!