homecoming
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about home.
I’ll start by saying this: I’m not sure I’ve ever really had one. My (divorced) parents changed residences a few times between them; plus, I spent my pre-college years bouncing between their respective places. I still do, whenever I’m back in Illinois. Maybe as a result, I started to feel twitchy about this lack of stability—I was always anticipating the next upheaval.
College didn’t help much in the way of stability, since students are generally condemned to spending each year in a new, cramped dorm room. And, as I’ve mentioned here, I’ve spent the the past two post-grad years floundering around in some pretty bleak parts of the D.C. metro area. I looked at this experience with rose-colored glasses for a long time, until the situation deteriorated (hi, bedbugs!) and it just became clear that I needed more for myself. Until recently, I’d been filling my weekends with travel plans and cooking sprees, but I came to realize that even a full refrigerator wasn’t getting me any closer to the safe haven I craved. My constant desire to leave town didn’t help, either.
Because I deserve better than an infested apartment in stressed-out, suburban Northern Virginia. I just do. I deserve a safe place to sleep and, when I venture outside, inspiring surroundings. For that matter, so does everyone else.
In my gut, I know the best way for me to create this elusive haven is to return to Chicago. I guess I’ve alluded to this fact before, but let me make it clear: while there’s never been a dwelling I felt was mine, there’s always been a city. Every piece of imagery in Kanye West’s “Homecoming” feels like a slap of nostalgia to my face: the glistening skyline, the El tracks, the Art Deco skyscrapers, Millenium Park, the fireworks over Lake Michigan. I grew up just outside the city, and that stuff seeped into my bone marrow.
So this weekend, I’m driving home to Chicago, to begin something better. To make a home in the world. There is a strong chance that I will be blasting a lot of Diddy-Dirty Money on the car ride there; please don’t judge me for that. I just can’t help but smile when Puff Daddy/P. Diddy/Diddy/Sean says, “it’s time to make your house your home.” Word.
I’m going to begin finding my way back to A Little Ginger, too. I want to explore the concept of home, to share what it starts to mean for me in Chicago, and to talk about what it means to all of you. Settle in! It’s going to be a long ride.
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http://www.sweetamandine.com Jess
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Kickpleat
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http://janaemonir.wordpress.com/ Janae
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http://twitter.com/cravingworthy Stephanie Lamb
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Delishhh
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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shanna
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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Jacqui
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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Maggie Rose
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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http://onafarm.blogspot.com/ Melinda
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http://twitter.com/sanurajamila MyLifeRunsOnFood.com
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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http://emmainthekitchen.blogspot.com/ Emma
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Dana
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http://onafarm.blogspot.com/ Melinda
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie
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http://www.cipolli.blogspot.com antonietta
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http://www.alittleginger.com Maddie