Home

Dear Readers,

Today I would like to discuss with you the topic of home.  Ever since I graduated from High School, I have been floating around from temporary apartment to house to my parent's basement.  This has caused me to question where is my real home?


I started my education in Duluth.  For two semesters I lived in an on-campus apartment with two other female students.  I had one car full of possessions and when it came time to move back to my parent's house at the end of the year, I filled up one small Hyundai Accent (think tiny compact car) and went back to the suburbs of Minneapolis.  I ached for the freedom I had in Duluth, but in Duluth I ached for living with the people I knew.  I moved into the basement of my parent's house for that summer.  After moving back it hit me, these people have changed.  My sister was older and wiser, with a boyfriend none the less.  My parents weren't sure how to give me space.  I felt like I was constantly colliding with them.  This was the place of my childhood.  I grew up in this place, but did not feel like I fit.  This home became a place to sleep at night and leave during the day.  My parents frequently commented that it was more of a base than anything else.  I felt lost.  If I wasn't home here, and I wasn't going back to Duluth, did I have a home?


At the end of that summer I packed up two suitcases and flew to England.  I got a total of ninety pounds split between two bags and a backpack.  I set up camp in ten by twelve foot room in a flat that had four other girls, a kitchen, a WC and a shower room.  I traveled there with forty two other students from the University of Minnesota-Duluth.  The first day it seemed everybody knew everyone else.  Meanwhile I knew one other girl.  She was in a sculpture class with me, but we were mere flatmates as we embarked on this journey.  For a year we traveled together, celebrated victories and losses, and became each others family.  Between her and my other new friends, I formed a new family while missing my old one back in Minnesota.  By then end of the year we traveled to over ten different countries and spent over an entire month traveling out of a backpack.  Somehow during this time I had nothing more than a flat I used for a base for travel, but I felt more "at home" here than I did my entire year in Duluth. 

After a year if traveling Europe, I had to come back to Minnesota.  I again packed up my things into two suitcases and left behind mounds of stuff.  I had intentions of returning to that stuff someday, but have yet to go back.  Now I study at the University of Minnesota.  For one semester I lived in my parents basement.  Traveling between school and home became too stressful.  The time lost traveling, and the missed opportunities were enough reason for me to move out for spring semester.  I found a place to sublet for spring and moved in with two strangers.  I attempted to make my home in an apartment that was already established by two people.  Fitting in my things was rough, and it was clear there was little room for me.  In the large apartment, I made my small room my home.  I rarely hung out in the living room, and spent a lot of time on campus to avoid my colorful new roommates. 


I didn't want to live with my parents and I did not want to live with these strangers.  Quite frankly I did not know where I wanted to live, but did not feel entirely comfortable anywhere.  I spent many nights at friends place, avoiding the ants that dotted the halls of the "new" apartment.  After finals it was too much and I left for my parents house once more.  This time however I had a plan.  I had signed a lease and planned to live with a friend from my frisbee team and two of her friends.  I am still living in that house, and it can be rough.  I have the basement to myself, and as a private person, I do not frequent the upstairs a lot.  I feel most at home in the basement, and like a trespasser upstairs.  But it is dark down here, and cold.  When it is humid it smells and there are bugs.  Yes I am more at home here, but not home. 

When will this end?  When is it that I finally feel home again? When I move to my next temporary apartment? When I settle down with a real job? For now I have this itch to get going.  I'd like to pack up my things and get onto the next place.  This isn't quite the place for me yet and I am looking for a new one.  The only thing is, I don't know where that is yet. 

On the road again

Since my last post I have not been home.  A total of ten days traveling will be had, and way too little sleep.

Readers, you last encountered your heroine (Moi) typing at a dingy Days Inn in Nashville.  In the past week I have played four more days of Frisbee, eaten five pasta dinners, went to the beach at least ten different times and have logged almost a thousand miles of travel.

A little bit to get you more caught up; last Sunday we won all three of our Frisbee games. I know I played well. With an appetite fit for a lumberjack and without any games the following day, my team and I went to a nice Italian restaurant and got ready for a feast. Unfortunately it wasn't as fabulous as our stomachs were growling for. There was not a soul in the restaurant when we got there. Usually this is a terrible sign, but it was nine p.m. and we had been done playing for five hours. It's just wasn't feasible to ask our stomachs to wait. On the bright side we got tons of breadsticks and as many water refills as a Frisbee girl could ask for.  Overall it was a delightful night for the team. We all settled in for the night and got ready for sightseeing the next day.

Monday morning started with a light rain that only got stronger. We attempted to go sightseeing, but the outdoor parks quickly lost appeal when we realized we might ruin our hair. After some strolling around we eventually entered a dark little bar and grill. One grilled cheese too many and we set off for St. Simon island, GA. 

Driving was like a five hour lesson on hydroplaning. The entirety of the Atlantic seemed to be precipitating on our little red subaru. At midnight we finally arrived to a four story beach house only a block from the public beach. Tan and identical to every other house in the block, it was home for a week.  The entire basement was filled with the eleven remaining girls from my team. Along the way others had left for other destinations. However, this didn't mean we would be lonely, we were joining the women and men's teams from UMD.  For three sweaty days we played Frisbee all day followed by beach trips and pasta dinner. Tan and full, we relaxed each day content with our work done.

Yesterday was our first free day, but many of us spent it sleeping in for the first time all trip. Frisbee is a serious business and we like to use all awake hours to play. The sport endures a lot of crap for being played by lazy hippies. While I have met a lot of hippies the past few years, few college players are lazy when it comes to playtime.

Thursday night I decided with a few others to stay up all night and wait for the sunrise. Pink and bright, the sunrise was just as beautiful as any other, a slight disappointment, but potentially full of unrecognized awe by my dull senses. Twenty four hours of running and tanning and walking and socializing leaves even the most chipper of people ready for bed. I was no exception. 

Friday was spent at the beach and cleaning. We said goodbye to our friends from Duluth, and they set off for yet another tournament.  With the house to ourselves, my girls and myself settled in for a movie and then bed.

Today we have been on the road for twelve hours already. As I time, I know the gift that is fresh air, open spaces, and food that doesn't come in a paper bag. I know we are driving toward a Minnesota in springtime, and I eagerly anticipate sleeping in a bed where only I have slept. I want fresh sheets and more than one pillow. I want to cook my own food and see my family. I love my team, but I'd like to be more than ten feet away from someone for more than the length of a shower. I miss drivers who use their turn signal, caribou coffee, and to watch the channel I want to watch.

That being said, I loved my trip and bonding with my team.  I know I grew as a player and made better friendships. I had a great time, and as ready as I am to be home, I wouldn't trade this trip for the world.

Spring Break!!

After many sleepless nights writing papers, making powerpoints and trying to solve the mystery that is Global Information Systems, I have rewarded myself with a vacation. In my own opinion it was very earned.

Friday afternoon I sent off with three girls from my Frisbee team en route to Nashville, Tennessee. Fourteen and a half hours of car ride and only stopping for the bathroom souls earn you an additional vacation.

My mom dropped off snacks for me. And by snacks I mean baby carrots, apples and oranges. We all shared snacks, but the girls were less willing to eat my health fair as I was to eat their cookies.

We made great time and got in after only thirteen hours, saving ourselves time and sanity. We met up with the rest of our team at a very shady days inn off the freeway. The steps to our room are rusting out, and our neighbors watched us arrive with their door open and chain smoking. The lot was crowded with double wide trucks and rusted out cars. We made our way past our neighbors and set up camp, but not before I accidentally set off the car alarm, waking every soul for miles. I'm sure even the deaf were bothered by my late night intrusion.

A mere four hours later we were awoken from our pitiful slumber. It was time to seize the day and play Frisbee. We're called the ninjas but moved as sloths, startled and not awake.

Piling back into the Subaru, five tired ladies trekked through a barely awake town to Vanderbilt University.

Twenty four women's teams prepared for battle. Sweat and sunshine drove us down the field for our first game. With an easy victory, we fought twice more, winning those games as well. Fresh from victory we squared up against our rivals, the Bella donas. They hail from Madison Wisconsin and the excitement is rising higher than the temperature.

As the sun beat down on us, we stripped of our warm layers, fighting the sweat as much as the other team. We went point for point until half. Then they scored six times to our one. We kept pushing until we scored four on them.

Two more points for them sealed our fate.  We had lost, but fought hard. With a smile on our faces we proudly marched back to the hotel, where we eagerly await our games tomorrow.