A bit more about me

True story...happens at least once a month for me.

As many other twenty-somethings out there, I have had my fair share of apartments and dwelling spaces I have called home. In fact, since the time I turned 20 I have managed to live in 13 different homes/apartments. Again, this isn't an abnormal for most people my age...talking to most of my friends here in Seattle, my numbers are pretty on par with the norm. About 99.9% of the time I have no problem remembering where in the world I am living, where I live, and what I'm doing living there. But during the other .1% of the time, usually in the morning when my body and mind wake up but I haven't opened my eyes yet, I kind of laugh and realize that I'm not exactly sure where I am. Don't get me wrong, I don't feel lost or out of place, it's just that I honestly can't remember if I'm still serving in Albania, or waking up in my tatami room in Japan. It's sort of a weird game I play with myself...will I wake-up upstairs with my other 11 other roommates at the Fort Douglas, or will I be licked to death by Bogart at the Swallows. Am I still on study abroad living on Thompson Lane, or am I home in the basement on Princeton Ave? Will I open my eyes only to see Jed's and my very long bodies sharing a small double bed on Cortez Street, or is it 2002 and I'm living in the pool house on 2nd Ave? Just yesterday, I had to remind myself that I moved to Seattle, was in grad school... and if I waited any longer, would probably be late for ProSem that morning. ;)

Sign for future degeneration? Maybe. But, if things go that way for me later on in life, at least I'll have the comfort of knowing that I'll just be lost in a lifetime of wonderful memories.