On the Move

a year from now we'll all be gone


all our friends will move away


and they're going to better places


but our friends will be gone away

nothing is as it has been


and i miss your face like hell


and i guess it's just as well


but i miss your face like hell

been talking bout the way things change


and my family lives in a different state


and if you don't know what to make of this


then we will not relate


so if you don't know what to make of this


then we will not relate

rivers and roads


rivers and roads


rivers 'til i reach you

                                    –The Head and the Heart

As I peel the photos off the wall and put books into boxes I can’t help but play this song over and over to fill the empty space that was my home for the past two years. This month, we are all moving on… to better places, new chapters, new zip codes and new horizons. As recent graduates, some of us are growing up, signing leases, getting engaged, and investing in house plants (the ultimate sign of nesting) and settling down.  Others (like myself) are floating, becoming nomadic, carrying the weight of multiple zip codes and trying to keep track of where all the boxes are stacking up before finding the perfect landing.

The current issue of Kinfolk talked about nesting and home, something that I have always cherished and find to be one of the most important cornerstones of life. For the past 15 weeks I have had three different zip codes, four different rooms, and have made a home in a suburb, a city, a downstairs, an upstairs, a cubby hole and a couch. These various homes I have shared alone, with a family, with a friend, with a roommate or with 25 other roommates. And this has been the month of homes and moving. 

This has been the month of closing chapters, turning new pages, and gathering. This month I sent out a change of address, which has already expired and will no longer apply by the time you read this post. As the last post card went out the door I decided to move (again). This week I am packing up my little nook on East 15^th street and heading (hopefully) uptown to quieter corners. This week I am packing up my home in DC and coming back to the island that I am not quite done with. This week I am taking down two years of postcards and pictures and boxing up books from graduate school that I will fondly flip through once in a blue moon and keep on a coffee table someday.

For East 15th I will miss most:

• My window that looked out onto the street, where I curled up to watch the snowfall and the blossoms bloom
• Cider on the stove on chilly fall nights
• Late night cups of tea with friends gathered around the table
• The rooftop and all the conversations that took place there (the Empire State Building lit at night)
• The countless friends who were always up for an adventure (Nemo will always be a favorite)
• My creaky hardwood floors and my built–in bookshelves
• My late night walks down East 15th
• My running route to the Westside Hwy.

For DC I will miss most:

• My roommate (who finds beauty in every found treasure and cooks me amazing food)
• My backyard, where I could sit on the sunny top stoop and sip a cup of fresh brewed coffee
• The space to host, where I could gather all my friends
• The proximity to the mall, where I could run happily for hours
• The quiet of a neighborhood and knowing your neighbors

This week I am thinking about new chapters. This week I am thinking about change. This week I am nostalgic. 

I am now officially a graduate who has yet to find a zip code, but has a master’s and is extremely excited to be back on this crazy island with all my people. New York City, you pulled me back.

This cup is for my MILANO family, with whom I share it all 
And for every home who has opened its doors to me–thank you.