welcome.

Hi. For the past few years I've been struggling with the idea of 'home'. My parents split when I was eight-years-old and my brother and I have spent more time on planes then we have at this 'home' place. I'm not skeptical of 'home'. It's just hard to find. It's going to take some convincing for me to believe that home is where the heart is. (I just spoke with my mother on the phone, and that is what she said. It's fresh in my mind, so I thought this would be a good first post.) I don't consider this blog to be a journey to find home or anything. Just a place to write my thoughts. Oh god, how cheesy does that sound? And that. Acknowledging the cheesiness is so overdone.

I graduated with a degree in Creative Writing, so I'm constantly aware that my writing is always going to be horrible, and if I ever believe it's good, I'm wrong. Because writers are supposed to be these depressed, withered things with gaunt faces that scribble in the dark. That's what I learned in college, anyways. I also learned that I am not a writer if I can't evoke 'yearning'. And if I don't wake up in the morning with the desire to be in front of a screen, creating grooves in the keys of a keyboard, well then forget it. It's crazy how we go to school, dedicate four years of ourselves to something, only to discover that's not what we want to be at all.

The one thing I've been lucky about is getting a job at the Florida Fish & Wildlife Conservation Commission. I've been working in restaurants since I was eighteen. I've never really liked it, but I thought I was good at it. I definitely didn't wake up in the morning with a passion for taking orders and bad tips. This summer I started interning with a man that's worked on films such as Silence of the Lambs and Ulee's Gold. Then he hired me. I'm still baffled about that. But I have to keep saying, "You're too hard on yourself!" Just accept it. Someone thinks you're good at something, just accept it. I'm the Media Editor. I edit video footage, film events, and recently started writing scripts (the writing thing again...). I love it, and feel guilty when I'm lazy. Though, leaving the restaurant business is the best thing I've ever done for myself.

I live in Tallahassee, FL. This is my town. My dad moved away when I was ten, my mother when I was twenty-one, and my brother moved away last year. My aunt even moved away! The only other family member still in town is eighteen and doing his own thing. I never see him. Sometimes I feel guilty about that. But hey, it takes two. My question is, is this still home? My family isn't close. My aunt and grandparents are too proud. My dad has a family in D.C. and my brother is struggling in Ohio but won't reach out to me for support. I have support to give, but he might be too proud as well. My mom and I talk regularly, and I am thankful for that. Though today I told her I'm not coming down there for Christmas.

"I want to spend Christmas at home. I'm not sure where that is, but I think it's here."
"I understand. Maybe I can come up and see you?", she asked.
"Yes, I would like that."

She came up to see me last Christmas and we ate chocolate and watched rom-coms.

I don't want to seem spoiled. "Boo hoo, I don't have a concept of home", when there are children starving and diseases spreading. But this is my life. This is the life I have. I'm sure if I was starving, I would dedicate this blog to finding more food. Or if I had a disease, I would talk about how humbled I am, or scared, or dying. I'm not really sure, because that's not my life. I just wanted to put that out there, in case anyone thinks I'm ungrateful. I'm not.