Saturday, June 20, 2009
Home Is Where You Hang Your Hat.
Two weekends in a row i've left the city, and only until you live in new york will you realize how necessary it is to clear your head. Coming home to leave work, and subways, and cabs, and $8 cocktails, and meager dinners, and being in a hurry to get everywhere even if you don't have any reason to be there at a certain time, and more caffeine than is healthy, and judging and getting judged, and reminders that you're one little being amongst so many, and being more tired than you knew was humanly possible. It will be nice when coming home doesn't mean that i'm here to get my mouth pried open for dentists and periodontists and endodontists, with metal tools clanking against teeth you can't feel anymore because the roots aren't there, and novocaine needles housed in their menacing silver casing, and plastic that pulls apart your cheeks so that you can have an alien like probes shoot x-rays of your bones. Either way there will never be a time when home doesn't mean baking, endless amounts of being in the kitchen, standing mixing brownies, and cookies, and pasta, and sauce, and vegetables, looking at all different kinds of cookbooks, printed recipes and handwritten ones splayed out on the concrete counters side by side, some with flour all over them lovingly and some brand new and some crisply printed, never tried. I love home and waking up only hearing birds and nothing else, seeing trees outside my window. Family is good, and home is good, and it makes me feel relaxed just stepping foot inside the doorframe on the back porch, Lily running to greet me. I cannot wait for a home of my own, a place to be proud of, animals that meet me when i'm home from work, a place to make me feel at ease.