Papa, the greatest man I ever knew.

I miss home. Not necessarily home, but I miss the comfort that was there when I was upset. You know, I never thought I would blog while emotional, but here I am. I have "Never Grow Up" by Taylor Swift on repeat and I've been going through the pictures from my childhood that are on my computer. I am a complete mess.

Right now, more than anything, I miss my Papa. Papa and I weren't all that close. He was a realist and I'm a dreamer. When I was a kid, that was fine and dandy, but when I hit the teenage years, we didn't always see eye to eye on life. 

My Papa could make me cry faster than anyone else in this world. It was never intentional, and I still haven't figured out why he made me cry so much, but I haven't had a Christmas on this Earth without crying and 90% of the tears involved him. We weren't close when he was around, I always envied the relationship he had with my sister and cousins, but I knew that I was closer with Mimi and I was okay with that. I regret not making an effort now, but I can't change my past and dwelling on it doesn't do any good. 

Mimi's told me so many times since Papa passed that we had differences because we were so similar. I want that to be true so badly. He was wise and powerful, strong and stoic, hardworking and determined, honest and practical. I can only hope to be half of what he was. I never had to worry about counting on him. He'd be waiting to pick me up after school, he took me to work before I could drive, he went to every choral concert and gave me a whiskery kiss every time I saw him. I could never see past the differences until a few months ago and now all I see are the things that made him incredible. 

Changes and Challenges

I have lived in Johnson City for six weeks and I have updated this once... six weeks ago. I was really excited about moving and starting a blog, but I obviously was only good at the moving part. I don't even think I was good at that when I look back on the past month and a half.

Usually, I follow Maria Von Trap's instructions and "start at the very beginning" because I really do believe it's a very good place to start, but today we are starting with the most recent events and moving backwards.

Wednesday night, I drove back to Nashville for the long weekend. I was feeling a tiny bit homesick and I knew if I didn't go home for Labor Day, I wouldn't be getting home any time soon. I loved being back in Nashville, it's such an idilic little place in my mind. There's local coffee shops, good food, Lightning 100, family, friends, pets(!!!), and happiness. I had a blast and loved surprising Miracles on Thursday and Restoration on Sunday, but all good things must come to an end, and now I'm back in my apartment with a mug of tea, The Lumineers, and my World Lit book.

While I was in Nashville, I got a call from the salon at JC Penny and I accepted their job offer. I start training on Thursday and I am so very excited that I finally found a job here. 

Now, I'm going to bundle the other five weeks into a little ball. I have lost track of what I did and when it happened... 

I had a few low weeks at some point since I've moved. I was diagnosed with depression about 6 months ago and I had a hard time swallowing that pill until I moved and really felt the low. I have always said I love being alone. I love being wrapped up in my thoughts and ideas, not being interrupted by conversation and noise, but I have never wanted to have conversation and noise as much as I did in those few weeks. I, of course, was too proud to admit any of this to anyone.

I've had friends and family come to visit, I went to Bristol and saw Mumford and Sons, and I've been on so many drives to Bristol it's ridiculous. My apartment is organized and clean all of the time, and I have watched so many movies that I don't want to see another one for a few weeks. I honestly have no idea where the time went. It's hard to believe that I've lived on my own for six weeks. As a girl who's lived with her mom for twenty years, being alone for six weeks is crazy. When the two week mark hit, I realized that was the longest I'd been without seeing my family and I didn't know how to react.

(Remembering five weeks of my life is impossible...)

All in all, I love Johnson City. It grows on me daily. I started school last week and I'm looking forward to seeing how things go with the new job. I like the friends I have here and I am excited about new friendship that are forming. As a person who hates change, I think I've done pretty well with the beginning of this great adventure. Hopefully, I'll get better at updating this and I won't have to strain to remember what my life has been like since the last post.

The (slightly dull) adventure has begun.

It’s been roughly 81 hours since I signed my lease in Johnson City and I have interacted with absolutely no one.

Okay, that’s an exaggeration. There was a girl at the photo center at the drug store, but it was really shallow, “I’m from Nashville,” “Oh cool, I’m from Clarksville,” type stuff. There was also a guy in the apartment parking lot who waved at me, and then a girl who asked if I was using both of the dryers in the laundry center today. But I haven’t had a real conversation with a tangible person since Tuesday, and that person was my mom. Now, I know I’m a fairly introverted person, but this is almost too much for me. I didn’t even talk until 9pm today. I’ve never gone 12 hours without speaking. 

I do have to say that I’ve enjoyed having time to get my apartment in shape. Every clothing item is perfectly folded or hung and it’s all organized and the bathroom is slowly becoming the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. My kitchen hasn’t exactly found it’s groove yet, but it looks good and the flow of where things need to be will come with more use, and my little living room, if I get rid of the mountain of cardboard, it would look fantastic! 

I honestly don’t think this has hit me yet. I feel like I’m on a vacation and I’ll just head home in a couple of weeks. I keep expecting my mom or sister to walk in the door at any moment and I just can’t grasp the idea that I’m here, five hours away from home, and alone. It’s all the freedom I’ve ever wanted, but it’s hard to accept. 

Reading books and watching movies on laptops is fun, but I’m ready to find a job or start school. I need something more than bumming around my apartment. 

Also, I have no idea what my thoughts and emotions are about being here and being alone. So I feel like I’m cutting this short and it’s an abrupt ending, but I’d really like to get back to reading Looking for Alaska by John Green. It’s a bit more entertaining than writing about my boring life.