Snow Falling on the Sidewalk

Study week has passed before my eyes. I'm locked away in my bedroom, 600 miles from where I was 24 hours ago. I had felt so drained from the week before, that I hesitated about going. The bus ride was long and without much shut eye, but in the end, it was worth it.

I'd forgotten the District. But stepping out into the cool morning from 12 hours on a greyhound bus, my heading jiggling uncomfortably against a window, I remembered. I smelled spring for the first time this week. I saw the some of the people who matter most in my life. I love adventures, but I hate how they tear me apart from the people I love. Every moment I get to spend with them--whether it's spending an evening talking and drinking four bottles of wine or sitting on the floor chatting until 4am and then getting up at 6am--feels like I stole it from the marching of time and now I keep it close. I don't keep in touch with them enough. And I don't want to ever forget them.

But then it hits me, I'm still bound for Australia for the summer. I still have a year and a half left of grad school. HJ might move back to Korea if she can't find a work permit. Kit Kat might be off for England in a year. And as for my story? Who knows. It's a far different world than it was when I was younger. Rochester was the farthest away I'd been and seen. You think that no matter what happens your world will somehow be contained there. And all you want is to get out and find a way to start over with a seemingly new life.

It's true that everywhere you go you make new friends. But it isn't that simple. It's true that moving towns is a fresh start, a chance to run from pain or failure or a piece of you that you want to forget. But it isn't that simple. I'd never take back my decision to move to Toronto for a year, but I no longer regret my decision to live in the District. I haven't forgotten the reasons I needed to leave it all behind, but I haven't forgotten the reasons that keep drawing me back.

Some days I wake up and wonder why I left. I could have stayed. But I wanted the adventure. So, here I am, up to my elbows in palladium prints and cyanotypes. Notes are spread across my bed and books are piled up on the floor. I'm back to reality that deadlines and papers wait for me. Snow falls steadily outsides--it reminds me that that small glimpse of spring I had in Washington, DC this week was only a fantasy. It taunted me, giving me thought of flip flops and skirts. But here, it's back to down jackets and furry boots.

Winter in Australia is going to feel like summer after this.

Speaking of Australia, I got Shannon to drive on the right side of the road. On a whim. I was trying to save him from the challenge of driving on the left side of the car, on the right side of the road, but it didn't last. So, I forced him to drive opposite of how he used to and on top of it all, he had to drive stick with his right hand and not his left.
There's my evidence. And yes, the car made it to Maryland safely, although the next day it was traded in for a better car, so it didn't matter much.

A lot is coming up in the next few weeks. Hopefully a Flogging Molly concert, Shannon's birthday and a school trip to Ottawa that will hopefully be extended a few days. We shall see.

On a final note: if you're looking for a new TV show to watch, make it Hereos. It's got me roped in. It's worth watching. Which, instead of writing my paper, I am going to do.