I am uprooted, but in a good way. Last week was an amazing lovefest, starting with two incredible features in Portland Maine, an offer to teach a workshop in December at 826 Boston, a surprise mention of one of my hip-hop projects in a national magazine, and a disgustingly love-dripping Boston Poet Thanksgiving.
However, this was underscored by a general sense of loneliness and unease in my living situation. For financial reasons, I'd been sharing a large apartment with three other women, all of whom were perfectly nice, but who lived drastically different lifestyles than me.
I found myself coming home after a success and having no one to tell. A house full of people who didn't "get me" was really starting to depress me. It was bringing up some bad stuff from childhood. I was the weird girl again. The outcast, even though in most aspects of my life I was being met with love and acceptance.
But as my friend Jess always says, the Universe always opens a window. Turned out one of my good friends, who I can't name here because he's the founder and director of a biotechnology company and therefore (unlike my cah-rayzee artist ass) has to be careful what gets written about him on the ole internets, had a spare bedroom that already had a freaking bed in it, and had been toying with taking on a roommate for a while. I'm partially moved in now, and we're taking it in phases to make sure it's a good fit, but I already feel more comfortable and better about life.
An inventor/mad scientist/business executive and a poet/songwriter/performance artist living together as roommates? Is this a 70s sitcom? No, it's just Somerville.
Being around people you like, relate to, and can talk to is absolutely integral for any sort of anything called happiness. It's really so easy.
Picture from Thanksgiving! Sean Conlon and I playing "Ninja" into the wee hours of Black Friday: