i love this!

It's been a while since I wrote about what is happening in my life. I'm back in North Carolina, and I want to talk about it for a little bit. I was planning to stay in Uganda until October-ish, but my baby sister (actual age:18 -editor) was going to Taiwan to teach English for a year at the end of August. She called me and asked me to come home to see her, and how could I say no? Coming back, I had no commitments: no job, no mortgage, car payments, school I had to be at next semester, nothing. Scary but exciting, right? I  briefly considered moving back to Connecticut, moving to Cali, the Northwest (for like a day), and then my dear friend and former roommate, the lovely Katie DeConto, emailed me to tell me that her sister was moving out, so she had an empty room, and did I want it? I couldn't think of anything I wanted more. So corny, but so true.

Anyway, I flew back to the States two days before my sister left. I was excited to see her, excited about running water, an oven, endless baking supplies. I was home for one week when a tropical storm came through and knocked out the electricity, and the water. I was again without running water and cooking over a fire. So I decided it was time to come to Durham. Sweet Suzanne flew up to CT and we drove back together. We arrived to a house full of friends, art-in-progress, and yummy food. I can't imagine a better homecoming.


While I was in Uganda thinking about coming home, I felt like God told me I would love the next two years of my life, and so far, I do. I love my friends, love being this age, love the opportunities I have, and am excited about the loose plans I have for the next few years. I'm busy with work (I waitress), volunteering, friends, baking and little side business-y things. And also this:

Hey, that's a very important part of being a 20-something.

In Praise of Tears

I love traveling. But when I've been gone for a while, I start daydreaming about the first shower I will take at home. I miss knowing the exact spot to turn the tap to get the temperature I want, what the water pressure will be (and that I won't run out of hot water), standing in the shower seeing my full sized bottles of shampoo, conditioner, body wash. As the water runs down my body, I feel like it washes off not only the grime and dirt of the plane, the car, my previous location, but also any tiredness, disconnect, or confusion I may be feeling as a result of my trip. The water reminds me of who I am, what I've forgotten about myself while travelling. It's when I start using the muscle memory of my normal life again. Home becomes the reality, and my trip becomes a memory.

Yesterday I was preparing to run errands, when my roommate brought up a relationship that I've been struggling with for over a year. There's pain I thought I'd worked through, but she (rightly) felt that more forgiveness was needed. As we talked, we both began to cry: pretty little streams trickling down her checks, big ugly sobs shaking my shoulders. I hadn't cried like that in a year, which is a long time to go without a soul shower. Crying is muscle memory for my heart-- it reminds me of who I am, and the feelings associated with being human: pain, sadness, forgiveness. I had been trying to block these feelings out, but to do so is to deny my humanity. I am not ceramic: hard, repellant, breakable. I am made of clay: soft, absorbent, pliable. Sometimes I need to be reminded of that, because sometimes I forget. Fortunately, I have roommates and tears to help me along.



Syncrobloggers strike again! This is a post on the subject of Water. Read my fabulous friends' fabulous essays here.