Lost and Found

Something I like to do at the beginning of each year is clean house. I haven't cleaned my email inbox thoroughly for a while. I came across something I wrote, but never published, back in 2012 and I liked it so I thought I would share it even though it appears I never finished my thought. Journaling- something I want to get back into.

I want to remember and reflect on everything I've been through in the past year and a half so we'll start with where I left off. When I left.

Fall of 2011 I decided to quit my job and go out on my own. It was a time in my life where I felt like I was missing out on something and finding myself unhappy with my job and recently single, I wanted nothing more than to escape into the world and be a "traveler".

I spent a month in NYC with my friends who were very gracious in keeping me company, taking me out and putting me up (Thank you Katie Foster!!!!). I was able to get in with a local musician crowd at BlackBird's in Astoria where I played both their bi-weekly acoustic nights during the month. I also embarassed myself at a very well known East Village open mic, Sidewalk Cafe. Apparently profanity isn't highly regarded there when you're half in the bag and unable to find where to plug in.

I traveled in and out of NYC to make little trips to Boston and Connecticut. I had aspirations of working at a farm out in CT again despite 2008's farm debacle. I took the megabus out to stay overnight and get a feel for the place to see if I could see myself killing some time, working and living there. The entire bus ride I felt as though I was literally headed in the wrong direction. I was so paranoid I was on the wrong bus, it almost made me sick. Upon arrival, I met the owner who looked stoned out of his mind and had me sleep with a pillow and blanket that smelled like piss on a cold slab floor. I convulsed for a good half hour before convincing myself that if I just went to sleep, tomorrow didn't matter. I was NOT going to work on that farm. It was ok that I had quit my job, sold my car, and got rid of my apartment. I told myself no one would judge me, trotting home with my tail between my legs. I needed to trust my instincts. Just go to sleep- and I eventually I did.

Next I wandered in and out of D.C. on my way to North Carolina to visit with my sister and friends. Megabus was my ticket the entire 3 months of travel with it's cheap tickets and free wi-fi. I started obsessively applying for jobs. Having slept in others houses for that long, I got to a point where I just wanted my own space again. I wanted to be able to lounge around and nap without feeling like a sloth. I wanted to cook food and crank tunes without being seen as a burden. I wanted to play my guitar in the middle of the night, drink to excess while watching Sex in the City and eat Indian Food in my underwear. But, mostly, I just wanted a place to cry. Sometimes, you just have to.

My last trip was to TN where I met up with a friend from college and his girlfriend. We went square dancing, got to check out a blue plate special, and I played an amazing set at an amazing bar. I felt so good and so sad. I was tired and alone.

I came back home (to Buffalo) and set myself up with an apartment, got a job and reconnected with the scene.