let's hear it for new york

Last week, I went back to North Carolina.  Originally, I had written "home," and then I wondered if that was appropriate, since I have created a new home for myself in New York.  Or so I thought.  Er, think.  I really haven't figured out where home is yet.  Which is why I need to get this shit out and on the Internet for strangers to read.

Let's see.  The days leading up to my visit were filled with eager anticipation, much like that of the days leading up to Christmas.  Or the release of the Sex & the City movie.  Or payday.  Let's just say I was really, really excited.  I have to give a big shout out to my parents, who hopefully are still ignorant to the fact that this blog exists, who paid for my plane ticket.  I guess sometimes it pays to have parents who just can't let go.

When I landed, my dad picked me up and was very excited to see me.  On the long ride home from Raleigh (where flights are cheaper, even if it is an hour and a half away from where my parents live), I went through the workshops I do as part of my job for local high schools and colleges on Long Island.  Earlier in the day, before my travels, I had done like 5 in a row and was on a "workshop high" as I like to call it.  Workshops are easily the best part about my job.  It's like acting, but not.  It's like changing the world, but acting.  It's like being gay, super gay.  Pretty much all of my favorite things.  I get to talk about what it's like to be gay, why gay people are cool, and why you should respect us.  And I make them laugh.  I freaking love it.

Also, on the way home from the airport, I remember feeling like I hadn't ever moved away.  Just that I had been on a really long vacation.  I remember wondering if this is what it will always feel like.  If coming back to North Carolina, the place where I practically grew up besides a two year hiatus in Las Vegas, meant I was always coming back "home," and that every other home I ever created for myself would never feel the same way that North Carolina did.  To be totally honest, I'm okay with that.  I like North Carolina.  In fact, I might say I love it.  This is something I would have never admitted before.  But then again, like Joni said, then Janet quoted Joni saying, you don't know what you got till it's gone.

I had a delicious dinner with my family (my mom made my favorite - homemade mac 'n cheese) and was off!  I had to see my friends!  I went back to the restaurant where I used to bartend and hung out with old friends and co-workers before moving on to some of my regular haunts while in Greensboro.  I was a bit nervous on the way over, wondering if I had changed, if my friends would notice something different, even though I didn't really feel all that different.

The rest of my trip is basically a blur.  Basically, I just crammed in seeing as many people as I possibly could.  And I ended up seeing very little of my family.  This may or may not be because my family really makes no effort to make plans other than dinner, and so in order for us to actually "hang out," it means that we would have to all be laying around the house, bored to death, until someone (usually me) decides to speak up and say "can we go to IKEA?"

So, that didn't happen.  And on the final day, I was leaving, and my little brother was downstairs playing XPSBOX2 or whatever gaming system it is that he's always on, and gave me the saddest "you didn't hang out with me enough" face I've ever seen.  Even though I asked him, literally every time I left the house, if he would join me.  He always refused.  Still, it was at that moment that I became very, very sad.  And I realized that I'm missing out on certain people's lives.  Even though I was never much of a part of them to begin with - now, I'm really missing out.

My final night was spent at the Q Lounge, which was where I spent most nights out in Greensboro while I still lived there.  Those nearest and dearest to me were there, and we were having a great time dancing.  I realized, then and there, that this is how I always want to be remembered - as someone who danced.  Which makes me sound like a pathetic country music song.  But seriously - my best memories, with any friends, no matter how new or old, are dancing carelessly and ridiculously.  When I die, I don't want anyone to eulogize me other than by having a dance party.

The night hit a particular climax when the DJ played Jay-Z and Alicia Keys' "Empire State of Mind."  It's a moment that is forever etched in my memory - my friends and I dancing around in a circle in one of our favorite bars, screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs.  It was surreal.  I remember almost being brought to tears thinking about how I had left this place for that "concrete jungle where dreams are made of," to follow my own aspirations.  Maybe I was just being self-centered, which has been known to happen, but I felt like my friends were so happy for me... it's like I always knew they were, I just had never really felt it until that moment.  It was such a vivid, joyous moment of happiness.  Whether it was the song, the city, or the friends... I'll never know.  I'm just glad I got to experience it.

Before I left, I sat down with my parents and told them that I was unsure about visiting for Thanksgiving.  I had such an incredible time, and reignited the spark of so many friendships and connections, that I wasn't sure I could handle it all so soon and so frequently.  I haven't yet had the time or opportunity to create the social life and friendships in New York that I want to, and coming back to visit what I've left can be torture.  I know myself, and I know how much I like to second-guess, and as a defense mechanism I wanted to avoid doing that to myself.

The things I know are this:

• I love the life I had in North Carolina, however frustrated I was.
• I love the things I'm doing in New York, however little of a social life I have.

And the fact is that there's nothing I hate about either place, so I figure I'm in a good position.  When my plane landed in New York, I felt a sense of pride in myself that I've never felt before.  Even though the city and the state belongs to millions of other people I feel like it's all mine.

I feel like this is the first place that I decided to come to entirely by myself, and I'm doing it by myself.  For someone who has struggled with self-worth, with dependence, and with confidence - I can't even begin to describe to you what it feels like.  New York is for me, it's something I did for myself.  And though I've only been here for 3 months, it's something I know I'll be proud of for the rest of my life.

And if, for some reason, things don't work out, or if I decide it's not for me... I'll always have home.