As someone who has lived in the most obscure random places in the world*, the longing for a home intensifies each year.  That and the fact that I HATE moving. But then, I have yet to meet someone who gets psyched about putting all of their crap into boxes, carrying it up the inevitable 3 floors and then leaving said crap in boxes until the next move.  I digress. Home.  Where you can just be.   You can let the ugly out and it doesn’t frighten anyone.  In the past, I have mistakenly thought that home would be destination, a finally resting place.  A place where all my junk could have its own special and permanent place.  Oh, but I’ve learned that it is so much more than that.  Recently, I happened to fall into marriage most unexpectedly. Due to the unexpected quality of said marriage, the Bong and I have moved into my tiny but beautifully old studio apartment.  You read correctly, STUDIO.  We share exactly one room with no doors and the tiniest “closet” one can imagine.  While I long for the day of having a door that separates the bedroom from the kitchen from the bathroom from the closet, I have finally captured the once elusive feeling of home.  It will never be a place.  Home will forever be where the Bong is.

(I’m fully aware that he will threaten to move me to Asia after reading this all while quoting this post but it had to be said.  Sigh.)

*Obscure and Random places that I have lived:

Post college- I shared a house with two girlfriends.  It was a two bedroom place that claimed to be a three bedroom due to a sunroom.  I moved my bed into that sunroom and and became a BEDroom. Because that’s all that would fit.

2000ish- I moved to Slovakia and shared a third room attic with a 13 year old and a cat whose name eludes me.  Definitely one of the best roomies ever.  But still, kinda random. Later I moved in with my sweet Mama Nela into her one bedroom apartment in a commie condo.  She spoke a little English, I spoke no Slovak except for the curse words that high school boys taught me.  By far, one of the best experiences of my life. XOXO Hannah and Mama Nela

I had a brief stint in a normal housing situation living in an apartment.  Nice. Then mid 2000’s, I signed a deal with the devil and moved into my own personal hell.  I became a live-in nanny. And I lived in their garage.  And there were rodents and bugs. And it was awful. And then I was adopted by a nice family.

2006- After living in the shack for a year, I won a game of MASH and moved up to the Mansion.  The nice family was much more than nice.  I lived with them for two years and thought of staying with them forever.

2008- My sister and I united forces and moved in together. I actually had to pay rent. Ew. BUT got to live with J and we both got hit on by a mullet man who obviously had great taste. No, Ronnie, neither my sister nor I want to date you.  Especially not at the same time. Double Ew.

Which brings me to Portland.  Where the Bong and I are playing house (well, studio to be exact) and where my heart has found its home. Forever.

Home is where the heart is.  Yes, indeed.