It's time now, to sing out...

This is what I want to do.

Watch this all day. Be in it? Probably not. But just watch this stuff all day long. Rent or any broadway production for that matter. Please and thank you. I saw this Sunday night because of my immensely fantastic friends Courtney and Steffanie. They took me out for an adventure in San Diego, (thank the Lord the Germans discovered this magical place in 1904) and ended the day with a semi-back row seat to see this. And the entire thing was STILL amazing. My face would have probably been blown clean off had I actually seen it in the front row. So, for that, I believe I owe my friends my life/face. Thank you.

Anyway, on another rather profound note, I have no home.

I came home today for spring break thanks to Marybeth and her trusty red mazda sedan thingy. As soon as I entered my little brown house through the white metal door on the same street I grew up in, I knew something was different. I looked around for a new paint job, I hugged my Nana, I pet the dog, I looked in the fridge. All was the same. Sure, my mother was here, whom I haven't seen since I was a teenager... last January-ish. But still, that wasn't it. My room had a few changes, a moved picture frame, a dusted table top. Everything looked just the way it usually looks when I come home from school. Then suddenly, I sat down in the chair at my desk and took my sunglasses off my head. I realized I wasn't sitting in my bed because it was freshly made. Because I thought that would be rude to ruin it. I thought it would be rude to mess up my own blankets. It was at this moment I realized that I am no longer a member of this household. Sure, I'm still in this family, but in this home, I am just a visitor. Everything felt a little out of reach, a little less mine, a little more someone else's. It felt like I was floating above myself watching everything happen. I was having a conversation with my own mother and it felt like I was getting to know this person I haven't been in years. I felt like the unwelcome prodigal son. Everyone commented on how much I've changed (since January?) and how strange I look. My grandmother dislikes my hair, my big rings, my appearance basically. My mother was total opposite, with her first words being, "Sup-- OMG JUST KIDDING, YOU LOOK LIKE A DIVA!" O_O

Well, yeah. Those were the two things I needed to hear upon entering my home for the first time in months. But I felt it too. I saw the changes in people. My mom is so thin now it's a little frightening. Not unhealthy thin, but my whole life she's been big. And now she's like an actually skinny person. My grandmother is a lot more judgmental than she is on the phone or through texts. Obviously. My grandfather is thankfully the exact same. He is so warm and probably the best grandfather I could ever ask for. I think he's the only one holding me in this house right now. Don't get me wrong, I love my mom and my gramma. A whole lot. But I am an adult now. I feel it. That... thing. That thing that birds feel. That thing that Nelly Furtado felt when she wrote that song "I'm like a bird". That thing that those guys did in the band with the Raybans and the white suits. That thing that kept Alexander Supertramp going. That thing that apparently college is supposed to implant in us. Well, guess what.

I've got the thing. I want independence. I want a job. I want a life of my own. I want to drive wherever my heart desires. I want a man. I want to deal with tough situations. I want to have insurance. I want have the ability to control the temperature on my air conditioner. I want a washer and dryer.

I want to pay rent.

I am twenty years old now as of three days ago. I am both displaced and settled. And I don't know how this can be.