don't wait for me

don't wait for me- by Josh Garrels

january to march in Beverly:
lightning paced quad of classes.
full dedication/addiction (tomato, tomahtoh) to Atomic Cafe.
painting and experimenting with oils.
turning my dining room into a studio.
moving apartments down one block.
new job as bartender :)
lovely thursday morning study dates with The Gibbons.
beautiful, precious moments with Becks & Co.
living without constant computer access. so nice.
new Canon Rebel
first encounter with high heels and Long Islands...
played my first coffee house performance
curry cookoff in Bangor
shaved hair growing out to stylish rocker/swoosh stage.

life back in America has been strange.
while my one word for my experiences in Africa was "more" (more challenging, more beautiful, more surprising, more relaxed, more comfortable, etc.) my word for re-adjusting to life Stateside is "strange" (strange how easy, strange how difficult, strange how unfamiliar and strange how routine...).
my neutral zone is school- having left and come back there multiple times with transfers and what, it feels like "home plate" to be back there...but everything else has a hint of "odd" to it.
i was at a show in Cambridge about a month and a half ago and as my roommate was showing me where the bathroom was, i swung the stall door open to see a small hole in the ground (where the old plumbing for the toilet had USED to run through...). before seeing the fully funtioning toilet in the corner, my immediate mental reaction was "oh, well alright. no big deal..." (yes, i did see the toilet before assuming the position over the hole in the ground as i did so frequently in Uganda/Rwanda/Kenya). there were no complaints from the establishment that night, however- i realized just how unadjusted to American life i still really was- even at a show, back in Boston, with friends, out for a typical night- i still had to double check myself from falling into "African routines".
i was recently talking to friend who has been touring with a band in Europe, and my roommate called him out on so nonchanantly chatting up his upcoming Australian tour. he pointed out that it was difficult to talk very enthusiastically about upcoming shows/tour dates because it's hard to hype up something until you're in the middle of it. even after the European tour, he just kind of shrugs his shoulders when talking about the sold out Vienna shows. i identify: i have been criticized for not playing up my trip to Uganda. not talking about it much. prior to travelling, i rarely talked about it- mostly out of self preservation to not build up expectations for myself. and since returning, i haven't wanted to be That Girl who is constantly starting conversations with "Well, in Uganda..." and i haven't wanted to compare the two cultures...resulting in a lot of silence. and it's so true: only in the middle of the red dirt and flying grasshoppers in the shower and loose goats on the road to the market and in the living room with my Mukono host family did it hit me that i was LIVING in Africa..that "this was my life!" and now... it just feels so far away. so out of reach. so evasive to my abilities to describe it to others.
and i find myself constantly checking airfare to see how soon i could possibly get back.
but at the same time...i have just moved to a new apartment...began a new job...fallen into new friendships...and picked up old relationships as well...
and i find myself stuck with what Pandora dished me out tonight from Josh Garells:
"Please don't wait for me,
I ain't comin' back again.
I cannot turn around
from the place I'm going to where I've been" (at least not yet...)