Sunday, January 14, 2007

A Home of My Own

Alas, it is January 2007 and I am a mere 15 credit hours away from obtaining the only degree I will probably ever earn (Grad school = Boring = Hell to naw Bobby) and I seem to be only able to think about homes. Apartments, condos, brownstones, houses, you know somewhere to live. As a college student, I've gotten used to sharing. Sharing rooms, sharing bathrooms, sharing toilet paper (Ok, who's week is it to put the toilet paper in??), everything. I sometimes think that the whole meaning of college is to teach big kids how to share. But now that I am officially grown (21 y'all!) I am getting into the idea of having a place to myself, free of roommates and sharing. A place where I can throw my clothes around and pick them up when I feel like it, leave the dishes in the sink for as long as I want, not have to wonder who ate my Oreos or why the hell the electricity bill is so high.


Also, home ownership is very high on my list of priorities, though it is a lot more difficult to own in a city like New York, I would really like to stop renting by the time I am 25. It's really like throwing money down the drain when you are paying someone else instead of building wealth for yourself.


Which also gets me to thinking about New York in the first place. I remember having this convo with a friend last year who said that people in NY give up so much. Because the cost of living is so exorbitant, your options are slightly more limited. Traveling, home ownership and other luxuries become near impossible. But it's such a great city, with so much more opportunity than the average place, that it's worth it to most.


I think that I'm at a stage when I am trying to figure out who I want to be "when I grow up" and in doing that I crave alone-time. Part of that is never feeling fully alone or fully adult. I'm still so in-between, straddling girlhood and womanhood that it gets frustrating and I want to hurry and leap into one or the other. Sometimes I feel like college is all about being in limbo. Everything's so impermanent. I used to love the idea of traveling a lot, but now I have a semi-severe case of aero-anxiety, I hate to fly. Part of it is that I am ALWAYS alone and it gets lonely, another part of it is that it is absolutely necessary to do it, which makes it feel like a chore. And moving. I feel like that's all I ever do. Pack up and put some stuff in storage, leave some stuff at home, bring some stuff with you, oh and ship the rest. I lose everything and I'm constantly looking for something only to discover its thousands of miles away.


I just want to get somewhere and sit down. Not sign a 12-month lease, not sublet, not stay somewhere for awhile, but get my own home and finally be able to hang pictures, adopt a puppy, paint walls and host dinner parties. But I know that theres a season for everything. I think I'm just getting antsy for the season's to change.

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