Home is where...wait, where is it?

The questions of "What am I doing with my life?" and "Where do I go from here?" are familiar to most twenty-somethings. Most people my age are just graduating from college and going on to grad school. Some are getting married and starting families. Some are working 9 to 5 jobs, or balancing several part-time jobs. I hear a lot of people arguing that "taking a year off" or "finding  themselves" is a legitimate career move. I'm still working on my next move, but buying lottery tickets every week is integral to the plan. This transition has gotten me thinking a lot about my life up to this year. I've been rereading old journals and looking at my photo albums, trying to find the connections between where I've been and where I'm going. If there's been a pattern to my life so far it would be moving. I lived in the same house in Houston for nearly 14 years before my family suddenly relocated to San Antonio a few weeks into my eighth grade year. Since then: I've lived in six houses, attended five schools, resided in four apartments, three cities, and mastered the art of packing.

For a long time, I avoided going back to certain times and places in my life, but I decided that I needed to close this chapter before I could begin a new one. For the first time, I've become interested in revisiting the past. I recently visited my hometown, the wonderful city of Houston: also home to Enron, NASA, and the classic R&B group Destiny's Child. I saw my childhood home, my old church, my old synagogue, followed the same routes I used to ride my bike along, and documented everything with a notebook, a couple of SLRs and a 35 mm film camera.

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