Thursday, February 7, 2008

My Gypsy Soul is not being rocked.

I have lived a lot of places.

It all started here where I was born. Evanston, Illinois, home to Northwestern University. I always thought I'd go there but I didn't have very good SAT scores...

Then we moved here. This is lovely downtown Middlebury, Vermont. This, I suppose, is where I am from. My mom still lives here.

This is where dad lives. I spent summers here, a lot of Christmases and even other vacations. I got addicted to airports flying down here. The south Carolina coast. I have some beach in me, and some mountains.

This is my other home. This is where I went to boarding school. I lived here for four years and I have five zillion stories yet to write about this place. Seriously.

This is the Kingston-Rhinecliff Bridge. I did not live ON the bridge. But I lived all over the other side of the river while I went to Bard College. I lived in an old gymnasium and you could see the foul line peeking out from under my couch. I lived in the dorms. I lived in what some might even call a double wide trailer. It had a swingset.

I lived here for six months. Home to the most inspiring library in the world.

I really did live here. For almost three years. One day I'll tell you about how I secretly miss LA sometimes.

This was a weird kind of moving "home" for a while. But I did have a really sweet little place on the third floor of a brownstone that looked like the west village even though it felt waaaaay upstate.

Roma Roma Roma. Even after two years my Italian is laughably bad. But O. Roma.

And finally here we are. (this is actually my second time living in NYC but, well, I'm here now...). Homehomehome. My favorite thing is the 59th street bridge at night. Which isn't even my bridge anymore. But you're going home and you're anonymous and alive all at once. And its New York. And its all what you dreamed about.

But MAN my gypsy soul cannot sit still. She is feeling a little nutty.

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