Running Away from Home

When I was 10 years old I was in a laundry mat with a friend and we were leaving. Everyone was out in the car except me and I was on my way out, looked up, and there it was. A night picture of the Chicago skyline. I was awe. Here I was, this little girl in the middle of nowhere living 8 miles outside of a town population under 1,000 (at the time), and I was impressed with this big city picture. I stared at it until someone came to get me. Then I went out and said I had to use the bathroom and went back in. And I don't know why... but on my way out I opened all the running washers so they stopped (little shit) and walked out thinking "I'm going there". It wasn't long after that I started running away. I never made it very far past the end of the fence, but once I ran away from school, and once I did make it from that small town a few miles out the opposite direction of my home. Unbeknownst to me, I was even going the right way. I knew I was heading to Chicago, but I had no clue how to get there. I think most of the time I left my runaway notes in hiding places so I always had time to snatch them back before anyone even knew I was thinking on it. In any case, I never "really" ran away (some people would beg to differ and say I have run away now several times... whatever :). So then, when I was 12ish my mom starting driving us all down to Indiana once a year to visit my grandma. And guess what city that trip took us through? And guess where my mom was most prone to get lost? Chicago. I loved it, but still there was no stopping and maybe it started to lose its appeal. The years went by and finally the year before my senior year of high school the family came home from Indiana and I hopped in my car and drove down there on my own... steak knife in the console and all (thanks mom:). Sometimes I wonder where my travel bug started and I often go back to that trip. The thrill of driving through the night, radio blaring, strangers in gas stations all going someplace, window down... and then getting a job in a new city, meeting new people, realizing I was rather "grown up". Realizing I didn't HAVE to depend on my parents, I had other options, granted, it was a grandma but it was still something to be away alone. I remember the lonliness I felt missing my friends, missing marching band season, the "otherness" I felt being away and upon returning. Strangely, I kind of enjoyed the romance of being "other", of being "alone", of having no one who could experience these 2 lives I had with me. I had close people at home, and close people away... but no one knew, REALLY knew, both lives.
So. I stayed with a friend in Chicago for a night. Of course a night is nothing but it was fun. The city life in the US has always intrigued me (obviously), so it was interesting. I can't explain it and I think its something city people can not really grasp... or maybe they can get it... maybe it is the same thing that drives city people to the country on weekends. The same thing that drives them to the cabins where I live and grew up. I'm intrigued, that's all. I think of cities as nice places to visit, maybe to stay for a spell, but certainly not a place I would want to settle down. Do city peeps feel like that about the country? I don't know. Anyway, it was snowing and we walked to this very attractive cafe with art work on the walls and a tidbit on the menu on how they started in like the 60's I think as a place working towards doing good works in the world. Lol, of course I was like, "yeah, if I lived here I'd come here all the time". Which it sounds like my Chicago friend does. It was all good, I just kind of wish I could have stayed longer...
And, now I am in Indiana at my grandma's and finding this "wanting to stay longer" a recurring theme. I suck because I originally had planned to head out sooner than I did. I procrastinated and had a date in mind but although I did have a time in mind I didn't really tell people because I was afraid I would do what I do which is CHANGE MY MIND!!! So last week I started emailing people like "I'm coming!" And I didn't want to impose on people so I planned short stays and planned times with people based on those short stays and blah blah blah... in any case, I have been to Chicago (go bears) and now I am in Indy (go Colts) and it looks like I will be in New York for the super bowl... how dumb is that? My granny is (awesome) like "stay for our party" and man I want too, but my friend in Detroit took Friday off work... whaddaya gonna do?

So, some more stuff.... before I left I wasn't as excited as I thought I should be. My one night in Chicago really changed that. I was chatting with my Chicago pal and she said some random thing that hit home with me so much that I was like...."OH YES, this is why I am going around the country visiting these incredibly intelligent, intuitive, fun, and loving people". She is awesome, I thank her for her candid and open conversation and her hospitality! But yeah, I am jacked now. I'm loving life (and wine with grandma) and just ready to visit! I found out my best pal in Korea is maybe going to be in NY when I am and another friend who I wasn't sure I'd get to see has worked out some stuff and... well, lots of fun stuff that I will get too later...

Right now, my grandma. For those who don't know, I love my grandma, think I loved her from the day I met her. I am at her house now and man, we just have the best time. We have talked about life stories of family, Christianity, politics, relationships, alternative lifestyles... the gamet; and she is pleasantly as open-minded, loving, and candid as she was 20-something years ago when we became friends. I find myself continuously surprised about the people who genuinely want to know about "over there"; where ever it is I have been. She is one. I remember in Peace Corps they said "no one will care, people won't want to really hear about it" and for the most part, that is true. But randomly people ask and show real interest and listen patiently as you try to describe the indescribableness of living in other countries, other cultures.

I guess the point is... times are good. Conversation is good. Not to say I wasn't loving being home and hashing life out with my best pals there, because I really was. I do have to admit, I was feeling some of that "I don't belong here" but I was also intensely aware, again, that my oldest friends, and of course my fam, know the core of me and love me no matter what. As does my grandma. So... if I am, once again, running away...its been a great trip and will continue to be. Peace out ya'all ;)