Going Home

“I guess you never know what you got till its gone
I guess this is why I’m here and I cant come back home
And guess when I heard that when I was back home
Every interview I’m representing you making you proud
Reach for the stars so if you fall you land on a cloud
Jump in the crowd, spark you lighters, wave em around,
And if you don’t know by now, I’m talking about Chit town,
Do you think about me now and then?
Do you think about me now and then?
Cause I’m coming home again
Maybe, do you remember when fireworks at lake Michigan
Oooh, now I’m coming home again
Im in home again
Maybe, do you remember when fireworks at lake Michigan
Oooh, now I’m coming home again
Maybe we can start again”

         Those are my favorite lyrics from Kanye’s Homecoming. It’s weird when lyrics really get you, when they so easily, so lucidly describe what you feel entirely in a moment. I love the song, but it makes me so sad. I look at the buildings in the video, the sights and sounds that were once home and I get a little choked up. I used to see those landmarks daily, but those were the old days and now, I feel like I can never go home for too long. My dad tell me that there is nothing for me in the Chi. I agree. What I want lies elsewhere and until I find what I’m seeking, I’ll continue search outwardly. I just realized in going home for Memorial day weekend that I’ll be in transition for the next ten years and probably for a few after I finish getting my PhD. In thinking about the next time I’d be able to go home, I started wondering when I’d ever get to spend more than two weeks with my parents, at home. My parents are moving so my “home” will be different for the first time in 15 years and I haven’t been home for summer in two years. Damn, just really thinking about it thoroughly makes me nauseous. I’m growing up and moving on. I will acknowledge that I’m as excited as I am scared and sad. I think its my excitement that keeps me moving. I know that nothing is ever actually static in our lives, yet I wish for a while I could stop and go back to high school when I knew I’d see my best friends everyday and talk to my mom daily. Now I’m a slave to my career goals, to my ambition. But on to brighter days and success, I guess. I don’t know. Who really does though? Will we forever have to restructure our lives, create a new sense of normalcy when we move for work, school, opportunity, or someone?

……..And now for the good shit……

      I went home for Memorial Weekend. I haven’t since my girls in SOOOOO long. I love my girls, Abz, Em, Lizzy, and Sunshine.They were and continue to be a rock in my life. I was so ecstatic to get to see my parts of the posse. Now, that we’re all 21, the shit was gonna go down. Annnnnd boy did it. It was a shit show. We did a little shopping and then a hellva lotta boozing. Let’s just say, Rum can sneak up on ya. It wasn’t cold at night, but Abz and I were a bit too warm for our own good. By the time we got to the first bar, Liz was already gone. Oh man, was it good times. Lizzy’s ex-roommate left all her alcohol and we were nice enough to enjoy for her. I made a drink, half Bailey’s, half Coconut Rum and it was a bad burning idea. It sounded good in my head, but so did taking Jose shots later that night which turned out to also be a bad idea or drinking at Rags the weekend before. My judgment involving bars and alcohol…may be off. Abz and Liz were killing me, they were on #2 before I realized that I couldn’t swallow my concoction anymore. Then I too began tossing back Rum like it was apple juice. Clearly, once I started singing in my head, or when we started dancing around in Liz’s living room, or when Abz started taking pictures or when I saw Derek’s hair cut and didn’t faint, I knew we were drunk.

        We, however, are functioning drunks. We managed to get to our destinations without any falls, slips, flashings, or arrests. The best part of the night was when Liz got hit on by this short dorky guy and him and his friends made a “man-circle” around her. They tried to get Abby and I to join in, but we are considerably more feisty and a bit taller than both Liz and the D.U.F.F. His friends saw that we weren’t having it despite how drunk we were and just surrounded poor Lizzy. Abz and I might have let her stay in the circle a little longer than we should have. Then again, it made for a hilarious story the next day. Intoxicated , I asked the equally intoxicated Abz if we should rescue Liz and Abz put her hand in the air, started swaying back and forth instructs me to just let Liz “chill” for a bit. So while we’re busting a move off to the side, Liz is getting molested. Eventually, Abz who was about three inches taller than the guy looks down at him and tells him whats up. Then he manages to get a hold of Lizzy again and Abz and Liz think of this story about this guy  Adam we have to meet at another bar. I’m not paying attention so when Abz tells me, I’m all like “NO, You don’t know an Adam for Chicago. I have her phone and I’m checking her recent calls and I’m like “You’re drunk, clearly no Adam is calling you and I don’t know about this fictional bar we have to go to. Then she looks me dead in my eyes and repeats what she said with a bit of inference and reference to our situation. Ha, I then realized whats going on and we peace out. The night went on and so did the good times, but that little molester was a high point.  

       It was so relaxing just to be around my girls. I feel as though as we change we understand one another clearer and we’ve come into our own slowly, but beautifully. They too are changing and moving around. Within them is a part of home, the home I left back in fall 2005. The home I come home to every break or visit is not the home I miss so much, but I find a little piece and a little peace everytime I get to talk with and see them. Not to mention my parents who happen to be two of the greatest friends I’ll ever have.