Home to Me

The other day I said something about one of my agents having a client in Santa Rosa where I used to live. A couple of months before that I was rooting for Dustin Pedroia and the Boston Red Sox, because Dustin and I share the same hometown (Woodland, CA). What's funny about that is that I only lived in the city limits for 1 year, but went to school there for 7. That was my longest stretch in one spot. Sometimes at the gym I wear a Sonoma State t-shirt. I'm from Anaheim. I'm from Sacramento. For a summer when I was 14 I thought I was moving to LA (really Orange County, SO not the same thing). I'm from a tiny town in the country no one has ever heard of (Capay, CA). I'm from the Bay Area. Most simply, I'm from California.

Have you seen those commercials where the person needs their cell phone coverage to reach a made up city -- the Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious of geography. THAT is where I'm from! In my life I've lived in 22 houses in 12 places. A little bit of me is from each place, but none of them are really "home."

At this time in my life North Carolina feels most like home. It should -- I've been here almost 10 years. I still don't know where most of the towns are and without my friend Beth I'd have no sense of direction or space or history of this place. I'll never be "from" here and know that no matter how slight of an accent I pick up or how many years I live here, I'll always be from somewhere else. But when I go back to CA, I'm not from there either. It's really pretty strange -- like I'm an expatriate within my own country.

I guess that takes us back to "home is where the heart is." My heart is scattered across the country and places I've never lived -- North Carolina, Virginia, Missouri, California. I guess I'm from North Calissournia.