Home Is...
This was something I posted on social media back about a month ago. I want to keep it because I do feel it in my heart of hearts and wanted to share in the blog world. When I graduated college, I was so thrilled and invigorated by the thought and ability to travel for performing jobs. And I did-for years. My permanent address was my parents and I drove to every gig-from Wisconsin to Florida to Delaware and everywhere in between, in my trusty red Honda, Rhonda. Each travel adventure was more exciting than the last and each gig I was at, I would start to feel at home. I thought this feeling was mostly because I would be there for months o n end and because of that, often made lasting friendships. I loved it and even after I moved to New York City, I still continued to travel and perform. But even in NYC, I found little places in the city that I wouldn’t have to fight for space or attention. The health food store my boyfriend and new friends worked at. The apartment I shared with