cali pictureWell, it’s good! It’s another transition phase in a lot of ways…after spending so much time by myself, I almost feel awkward being around people all the time and having to engage. And it’s never an easy thing to move in with your parents when you’re almost 30. It’s not like there was my old room waiting for me to drop my bags in and sigh, “Ah, I’m home.” I’m still pretty much living out of a suitcase and ziploc bags of toiletries. I never bought dressers in North Carolina, either; I kept all my clothes in buckets and plastic containers. So I haven’t really felt “settled” anywhere in almost a year.

What is nice about living with family again, besides the people part, is the FOOD and the STUFF. Adults have all kinds of fancy cheese and name brand crackers. And knives that actually cut through things. Tupperware with matching lids. The toilet paper is so soft. There is a working television and a hot tub! I feel spoiled. I love to drive around and not need to GPS everywhere I want to go. And to be rid of the terrible NC drivers.

me and kiz
“People let me tell you bout my beeeeest friend!”

And, of course, there is the dog. Kismet. We call her “Kizzy” and she has completely taken over my life. Five pounds of unconditional love. I think that everyone who goes through a breakup or depression of any kind should immediately get a puppy. I have full on conversations with her, half-hoping for some sort of Narnian effect so she starts talking back to me. I look into her eyes and feel like she is seeing my SOUL. We’ve been working on her repertoire of tricks and also trying to learn how to go on a walk. Mostly it’s just endlessly comforting to have someone who wants to be with you all the time and thinks you are God’s gift.

I’ve started meeting up with old friends, catching up on everyone’s lives, and talking more about what happened and what’s next. It’s stupid, I know, but I’m almost embarrassed to be back. It feels like I failed at something. In my heart, I know that’s not true, and (hopefully) no one is thinking “I told you so” or thinks it was stupid of me to go. And if you do think those things…you can shove it.

(If you’re a new reader and have no idea what I’m talking about, click here.)

it's so pretty to be home.
it’s so pretty to be home.

But it is hard to be like, “yeah, I took this super huge chance on love and things…aaaaaaaand it didn’t work out! I applied to over 40 jobs and ended up waitressing! I got severely depressed and didn’t shower or leave the house for a few weeks! I dropped out of a two week bartending school I was doing for fun! I couldn’t even get ‘fun’ right! Still worked at a bar, though!” (Funny side note – went to the school I used to teach at, a super conservative Christian classical school, and my department head said “we all thought you’d make a great bartender!” These people know me.)

But I really think it all worked out. Now I get to spend some quality time at home, maybe do some subbing at my old school, and squeeze in some more traveling before I move to Brazil in just over 100 days! I’ve always wanted to teach abroad, and like, hello. Brazil. With one of my best friends. Things are looking up.

So if you ever need a hiking buddy, or want to talk about puppies for several hours, or a plus one to any event where there might be cupcakes or wine, I’m your girl. :)

 

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