Back in NOLA: 6

My time is almost up. I have done so much and so little. I wanted to go to Napoleon House for a Pimm's Cup, and may yet do that. I wanted to meet Slimbo, I wanted to see Peter, I wanted to see so many folks, and yet I did the best I could. I really needed to spend insane amounts of quality time with my family. We all needed it. I went back to my house three times. I may go one last time. Marc and my dad went this afternoon, but my heart was too heavy to go. Instead, I stayed in the Quarter and relaxed, reading. I thought I'd put on my ipod and I sadly realized it had a sick looking font - not unlike that of a ransom note - with a list of commands. Nothing worked. I failed to troubleshoot it on my own and didn't breakdown, but definitely left Rachel a sad voice mail and muttered to myself that "everything is own breaks" thinking of how few things I was able to salvage from my house. I did manage to salvage some cds which mom and Marc washed in warm water and cleaned for me while I archived my smelly, moldy journals, photos and letters. About 5 or 6 worked -- it's something.

I hope everyone is doing alright and has been having a peaceful holiday season. I will be incredibly sad to leave my very fractured, still bleeding city, but I will happily embrace my new home New York. It's been hard to reconcile this notion of home. The family I've chosen as opposed to the one I was born with. Life is messy and why must I be devoted to only one place. One home, one family. I am a New Orleanian at heart, yes, but I am not one of these people who can only live in New Orleans. My friends' families all reassure me that even if my parents leave New Orleans, I will have an open invitation to stay with them whenever I return.

More and more I realize that home is anyplace I can be with the people I love.