In one week I will have lived in this house for a year. No one who lived there then lives here now, and the only other person who has been here longer than a few months is moving at the end August. So, despite my original thought, large houses do not make a family.
A year. It has been almost two of them since I left Bellingham with a pocket full of change and a heart full of dreams. I have done very little to none of what I had expected. No theater, no art, no school, no AmeriCorps, etc etc. A lot of boozing. A lot of hip clothing. A record store gig. And a whole new idea of what it is to be in my 20’s.
Still, two years out of college I had expected to stop feeling so lost.