.: home :.

wrote this the other night.. doesn't make alot of sense but it needed to be noted so all ya'll(and myself)can keep track of my dramas.

Home.

I grew up in Downers Grove.

My mother’s house is there now. My family including my father moved there from Skokie, IL in 1980.

I’ve hated that house for a long time. I hate the house my father lives in now after his separation from my mother in 2001.

I’ve been kinda homeless since then.

I’ve moved back to the house in Downers Grove when I left Champaign in 1999. My mom stopped talking to me at the Spring of 2001. This was probably after I’d witness what would be my parents’ final yelling match. I’d moved to the frat house in the Summer of 2001. I lived there will belcanto. We got displaced when the building was closed by both the fire and health departments. We lucked out and got to live in blonde brian’s Gold Coast condo for a while. Then I went off to England for my dear cousine’s wedding. Then I lived in Heathrow for three days after Sept. 11. When I finally was able to fly out of England. My boyfriend at the time let me stay with him. That lasted about three months. Arif, one of my best friends and collaborators, took me in after that. I stayed there until I moved into an apartment with a co-worker in Spring of 2002. I moved out when I couldn’t make rent. Moved some of my things to my father’s house in Logan Square. My boyfriend at *that* time offered to let stay with him when we heard gunshots as I was moving things. We soon after moved to our own place around the time I started up massage school in the Fall of 2002. By next Spring, I overstayed my welcome with that boyfriend and moved all of my things to my father’s place. My living arrangements with my father are well documented in ma blog. (Here and here and here being my favorite entries.) My father asked me to move out in the Spring 2004 since I was giving him and his new bride a lot of attitude.

So back to Downers Grove. So for the last few weeks, my mother has barely said hello to me. If anything at all is been some small criticism. She’d, of course, been very civil of I’d had friends visiting but out side of that – nothing.

It’s the beginning of the end I can feel it. I would much rather leave than have to hear her ask me to leave as she so graciously did to my little sister when she was living with her.

Its been noted that I can make myself at home just about anywhere. I’ve probably slept on the couch or in the bed of most of my friends. But even when living with boyfriends, I never felt home. I’ll get glimpses of it Sunday Brunches with Sunday Papers, little dinner parties with friends, or sitting and imDbing a DVD as we are watching it. I so crave it. I so miss it.

Recently I spent a morning on the computer, working on a Sudoku puzzle, and listening to NPR in bed. It wasn’t my bed in my home. But it was what I felt home should feel like. It was comfortable.

And then it was gone.

Yeah, so things are kinda sucky right now.