welcome to the sophomore year of life

i just remembered i had this online journal. it has been nearly a year since i wrote the last post, sitting in the coffeehouse in grand rapids, mn, killing time before the college fair. in a month, i'll go back to grand rapids for the same fair. but this time, in the second year after the massive transition of last summer, i will feel the effects of building a new foundation on my own.

re-reading this journal resurrects the unsettling memories of last year, of the constant motion and exciting - yet terrifying - feeling of being on my own. in this past year, i've thought a lot about foundations. and i wonder: where do we find home? is it a solid location, an address, a place where we receive mail? or is it in the hearts of those with whom you keep company? is it the intangible sense of community, of needing people and feeling needed, that comforts us enough? nothing has the same calm sense my bed in my childhood home on my quiet street in casper. but in the past year, i have found home in time in friends' living rooms, lounging around like puppies on top of each other; in quiet conversations between two on a drive or a walk; in invitations for special nights out to celebrate friends as friends. to build a new home from the rubble of the sudden destruction of a four-year home and family... it quite a challenge. i remember my friend kevin telling me last year how everyday brings something new during the first year out of college. it's true, and i still have those feelings. i mean, i have yet to master the perfect meal, or host a dinner party (or any nice party, for that matter), or go a few weeks without a beer at the Tavern (and why should i?) but i think i'm getting the hang of depending on myself.

everyone warns of the challenge of finding a job, and paying for food and gas, and looking for apartments. but no one prepares you for the incredible toll it takes on the psyche to salvage what social capital remains and create a sense of meaning. some see making money and being successful financially as the end-all, be-all of existence, the culmination of years of hard work. do we value those around us with the same standards? it is more challenging to find the foundation of people to enrich daily life. so far, i'm succeeding. but my guess is that it's a lifelong process... and maybe that's why it's uncommon to measure it explicitly.

i'm listening to norah jones' first album and it's almost midnight. nj has the uncanny ability to ease tension. this is a lot to chew on at 11:43 pm. does it even make sense?