I’m interested in this… I was thinking the other day about how there are people who do not like me, for various reasons, or others who have problems with me. This is not something I’ve ever really thought about.
I have a tendency to blunder through life completely oblivious as to when I’ve offended or hurt someone, only to find out about it later. This is large problem since I speak before I think, nearly always. I also have not been one to generally care what other people think, except my close friends. This is still the case, but I’m curious as to what people might put here if given the chance to speak anonymously.
(h/t to E for this one!) Attention future boyfriend: I want to go to there. Like, one of those “we’ve been dating a long time, we should Travel* trips.”Or a honeymoon, but, honestly? I’m still on the fence about this whole ‘marriage’ thing so let’s just do vacation. WITH LEMURS. Future boyfriend/life partner: MAKE THIS HAPPEN.
*Travel is a major trip lasting more than five days where you either learn that you can stand the person 24-7 in unfamiliar environs or “oh god no I could never be with you in any sense of marriage or long-term commitment. Also, now I hate your face.”
“My cousin Helen, who is in her 90s now, was in the Warsaw ghetto during World War II. She and a bunch of the girls in the ghetto had to do sewing each day. And if you were found with a book, it was an automatic death penalty. She had gotten hold of a copy of ‘Gone With the Wind’, and she would take three or four hours out of her sleeping time each night to read. And then, during the hour or so when they were sewing the next day, she would tell them all the story. These girls were risking certain death for a story. And when she told me that story herself, it actually made what I do feel more important. Because giving people stories is not a luxury. It’s actually one of the things that you live and die for.”—
“Home is a name, a word, it is a strong one; stronger than magician ever spoke, or spirit ever answered to, in the strongest conjuration.”—
- Charles Dickens
I’ve been thinking a lot about the meaning of home the past few days. Ever since my mom passed away, and maybe even before, I’ve not had a very solid definition of home for myself. “Home is where my bed is”, I’d tell people. But, I never really felt like I belonged in any of the places I’ve lived. Perhaps because I was always transitory; I lived in 7 different dorms on campus while in college and then after graduation to now, I’ve lived in 5 different apartments, the longest stay being 2 years.
But what makes a home a home? For me, it is the people that surround me. After a couple days stay in Illinois, where I used to live, I realized that Richmond really is my home. I love the friends I’ve made, many of which I consider family. I love the vibe of this city, the music scene, the arts scene. The past, the present, the possibility. I love that I am close to DC, close to the mountains and close to the beach. I love the trees and the river and the fields and the buildings. I love RVA.
Though I love his funny stuff, this is actually my favorite JoCo song. It’s my go-to breakup song, because even though it’s sad, I still feel hopeful at the end (though maybe that’s just me - the lyrics definitely don’t say anything hopeful). I’m posting it for a few friends I know of who might need to hear it.