So as I sit and type, I am procrastinating. I am back in school. In eighteenth grade, as my mother jokes. Last January, just for giggles, I hustled together an application to Columbia School of Journalism. I got in! Who knew? So I am back in school. It's been harder than I though to get back into the swing of being a student. I love the program. I'm taking Reporting and Writing and a New Media Skills course. I'm great in class, but I've been taking a little longer to get my stride with the stuff out of class and the rest of my life.
The worst thing happened right after my first class. Gram passed. It's one of those things you know will happen one day, you just don't want it to happen any time in the foreseeable future. But Gram decided she was ready to leave us and she did, with a dramatic flourish. So I ended the first week of classes by going home to New Orleans. It was my great honor to eulogize her. I thought I was fine. I really do believe that my Gram is at peace and I feel very fortunate to have had her in my life for so long. She was definitely one of my favorite people. She is responsible for my optimism and sense of adventure, my sense of humor and love for telling stories. So it was a little odd starting journalism school at the same time as I had to say goodbye to her. But by the end of my week in New Orleans and most definitely by the time I hit the tarmac in New York, all the reserve I mustered up for the trip home crumbled. And over the next few weeks, I slowly unravelled at the edges. I lost my focus in school. And just generally felt disoriented. I kind of arbitrarily decided that July was time for me to get it back together. So I am working at it.
At the same time, one of the best things happened. I gave up the only apartment I'll probably ever be able to afford in Manhattan to move in with the person I hope to be with...well, forever. That seems weird to even type. I was not tragically single so it has been a bit of a whirlwind of transitions and decisions. It was brought to my attention that I really don't write that much about my 'personal life' in my blog, specifically relationships. I don't intend to start. Rats, right? But we met, we clicked, and we decided to get on with it. So I'm going with the flow and hoping for the best. Well, it seemed like it would be a really good idea to move in together over the summer before I started taking classes full time in the fall. But I now believe there is never a good time to move. And moving when you are starting a new endeavor is stressful. Moving while losing a loved one was more than I could take. So I was not very graceful about the whole thing. But it's done. I know it's the right decision. I lived through my mother's Scarlett O'Hara moment when I told her about it. And now all is well. Or getting there. But it's caused a lot of introspection.
I am the only daughter of an only daughter. It wasn't until I actually thought about the implications of committing to someone else that I really realized how much of my identity is wrapped up in being independent. And I guess I never really believed the other relationships I've been in were permanent, because it had never really occurred to me before that I might miss being single. Maybe that's why I haven't written about the other relationships. They took up my time, but never really changed the trajectory of my life. I can't say I didn't think it would ever happen--meeting someone that I wanted to commit to--but I guess I was OK with the possibility it might not. It's fair to say I thought it was more likely I'd meet someone I wanted to date. So when I went to Slish's Superbowl party back in February, I had no idea what would happen next.
So once there's more to tell, I guess I will. For now, I am very happy to be sharing my very crazy, unsettled life with someone I love very much. Nairobi was not as thrilled about the move. But that's a different story altogether...