i had a dream about fort awesome. actually, to be honest, i can't guarantee that i was asleep. it felt more like lucid dreaming -- i knew i was dreaming, and yet it was so crystal clear...
i was walking through the living room, and i could see everything: the huge basket of magazines by the couch, the fireplace tools that steve bought me for a christmas gift (how romantic!), the speaker stand crammed in next to the corner chair... and then i was in the dining room. and i was looking at the wacky industrial office chairs that we used as dining chairs, and that we debated about (they were SUPER comfy, but didn't fit the table -- or the room -- properly). there was the deck, and the view into the back yard. i couldn't really see the lilac bush, or the rose trellis, let alone the dahlias (my favorite!) or the clematis, which we thought sounded like a VD, but was actually a lovely delicate climbing flower...




i woke up teary eyed, probably technically what you could consider crying. it was the most nostalgic i'd been, i think, since i moved. i have no idea what brought that on...

i know, i know: it takes awhile before a place can seem like home. and even though things are going well here, it doesn't have the same "home" feel that fort awesome did for us.

i don't know how long it usually takes people (i've heard all sorts of answers) but i'd guess that i am slow to adopt a place as "home". i remember nyc was hard for the first year. i honestly don't know what i would have done without melissa and peter those first six months. and i know i definitely felt weird living at fort awesome at first too, like i was housesitting for a "real" adult while they were on vacation.

so i guess it's hardly strange that i would have some sort of semi-subconscious debate with myself about where "home" is, and where my heart lies. tonight i think it's floating -- it doesn't really seem to lie still... i guess that's how it's going to have to be for now.