after basking in the blissful, laid-back vibes of colorado for a week, we flew back to florida and life sort of smacked me in the face. all of a sudden so many things were tugging at me, from every corner of my life, demanding my attention.
and of course, i've seen this group of hurdles approaching all summer long. and all i've really done is play and twirl and avert my eyes and hope for them to dissipate by the time i looked back.
you see, i've just graduated college (with only an inkling of what i'll do with my degree), i don't have a job right now (only the prospect of one), i'm moving out of my tallahassee home (and florida altogether), and the future is all but certain. i'm basically flailing in limbo until we move to this still undisclosed location (because it's still uncertain and will continue to be so for about another month).
welcome to my gypsy life.
i would say this limbo of in-betweens has been taxing, but at this point, it's just routine. in fact, this routine has become so second nature that it feels more like home to me than any home i've had.
because it's certainly not the first time i've not known where in the world i'm going next. and there's always something so exhilarating about it--the feeling of being at a crossroads and debating between paths that could each hurl my life into wildly different directions. at that crossroads, the air thickens and the pitter patter of my heart reminds me to study all the details until i can recite them from memory like poetry. these are the scariest and most magical of moments.
it's also not the first time i've packed up everything i own into my tiny little car and driven into the great unknown. ever since high school, my vehicle has been my sanctuary, representing for me a sense of freedom and consistency and mobility. my car(s) have seen me move to 10 different apartments in the past 5 years. and i've just used Lola the Corolla to move again.
when we got back to tallahassee from colorado a week ago, i suddenly realized that because my mother asked me to help her with business in ohio for a week starting on the 20th of july, and because the lease on my house ends at the end of july, i needed to move my stuff out of my house, asap. and that's what i did.
i packed all of my belongings into my car and lent out my few pieces of furniture to a friend who needed them. then i drove 8 hours to and from central florida to take peter home and say goodbye. and thennn, after a short night of rest, i drove another 15 hours north (by myself) with a car full of everything from clothes to 3rd grade letters to prom corsages to college notes, down the long winding road to my mom's home in ohio.
aside from my dad's home in las vegas, my mom's house is the only place consistent enough to store my stuff until the time comes for me to take up residence again in the continental united states. (did i mention i plan on moving away from the continent? ;)
it's a long way to go for a bit of storage, but boy did i need the drive. nothing clears my head like an open road and the radio. and what's better, the drive was really hard this time. driving through the georgia back roads was grueling and tedious, it rained throughout the carolinas, and the virginias scared me half to death. there was hardly a moment for me to stress over the many cliff-hangers in my life because i was busy trying to stay alive the whole time. and to me, that's fucking beautiful.
on the drive i learned that every radio station in georgia plays country, so sometimes it's more pleasant to just sing to yourself, especially if you're singing adele ;) . i learned that driving through the foggy mountains of virginia at night, surrounded by speeding semis, is scarier than cliff jumping and riding a ferris wheel and skydiving combined. i learned that some boys in west virginia like to hang out at the local gas station at 2 am because their town is so small that there really is nothing else to do, and that when two of those boys call you pretty and offer to pump your gas for you while you sit safely in your car, you might as well let them. and let them play you a song, too. i learned that when you go long stretches of road alone before finally seeing another car, you'll feel such a kinship toward them that you'll almost want to match their pace for the company.
...and now here i am in ohio covered in motorcycle grease, getting ready to help my mom sell antique motorcycle parts at a meet in wauseon. last week i was in florida by a familiar lake, and the week before that i was sliding down a mountain in colorado. i have not a clue what next week will bring. nor any of the weeks after that.
and i am completely content.