There's no place like home.

I drove myself back to The Beach yesterday. I've been staying with good friends since I got here and waiting for "the feeling" to hit me. The feeling that tells me I'm home. The feeling that makes everything all right, perfect. It hasn't yet. If anything, driving around this place kind of feels like visiting my old high school haunts...or something along those lines. Every street corner is so familiar and crowded with memories, but clearly feels like a place from my past.

After 6 or so hours of driving yesterday I did something I never do. I turned off the radio and drove the last hour in silence. It was beautiful. A perfect hour of peace that surrounded me and filled up all the spaces of my car. I had had ideas pass through my mind all day, or rather day dreams, but in that last hour I thought clear, concise thoughts. Thoughts that mattered. Thoughts that meant something to me then and even now, today.

I realized before I even reached The Beach that no matter where I land next it won't feel like home. At least not right away. The road has become my home. The airport is my living room and hallway. Random couches and hotels have become my bedroom. My life fits best into a 22" x 14" piece of luggage. Wanderlust has become my lifestyle.

Best laid plans: Part Deux.

I realized today that I've left this post undone. Or rather, unfinished. The remainder of that day went something like this:

11:15am Make it to the other gate. You know, the one they didn't announce would be the actual place one would need to be in order to go home.
11:30am Get to attendant's counter to double check my confirmed seat. Am told that I don't have one. The flight is sold out and attendant is unsure why United would tell anyone they could go home. I tell attendant, fire burning in my eyes, to find me a seat.
11:31am Confirmed seat is magically found for me. Probably out of fear of being accosted.
11:45am Announcement is made that the flight is delayed due to mechanical problems. I anticipate an hour delay at least.
12:00pm Flight gets canceled. I laugh hysterically and start to resemble a state hospital patient.
12:05pm Wait for grumbling, exasperated people to clear the area and call United to rebook. Think to myself, "Those suckers are going to wait in line at customer service for hours. But not this girl! Hahahaha!" (More maniacal laughter.)
12:30pm Find myself in said line just to get my hands on a hotel voucher. Make friends with guy headed to Germany. Think he's funny. And gay.
12:45pm Discover short cut to said voucher. Make my way to the front of the airport and make sure I look pathetic, but agreeable at the ticketing counter.
12:55pm Get set up with a bitchin' hotel room for the night, warm cookies and a meal ticket to boot.
1:30pm Finally get a shower. Almost pass out from all the excitement of my current dream coming true.

The rest of the day was awesome (dinner, shopping, laughing with an old friend). And the very next day I did, in fact, make it home! It was the best feeling....Felt like I had accomplished something. Although, in reality I just showed up at another doorway and hoped it led me home.