Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Home Run


The other day I was about to get on the interstate when a silly thought popped into my head.

Ginger, it's time for you to move out of Utah.

For the past 10 years, I have lived in 6 different states. I'm used to up and moving after a few years. I've been in Utah now, (this time around) for about 3 years and I'm starting to feel the itch.

Alas, I can't just up and go. I have a job. I have high hopes for grad school. I have a home. I guess I'm learning commitment one way or another.

Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm a traveler! I always have a trip planned, air plane tickets purchased for a spring get away and a road trip in the back of my mind at all times. I've flown to NYC for a day at last minute. That's the kinda girl I am. (Currently, a trip to DC is planned and air fare has been purchased for Charleston, South Carolina.)

Some states I dreaded moving to. For example, Michigan. And Utah. (Shh! Don't tell my family!)

I was 17, finishing up high school when my parents informed me of our move right after graduation. I must admit it was the perfect time for me to close that chapter and start a new one. I haven't been back to my Colorado home for 10 years. I came close to going back a few weeks ago, but I decided to stay put for the New Year's holiday. I want to remember my home the way it was. Perhaps I'll go back this year. Maybe in 5 years. Or maybe I'll never go back.

My move to Utah taught me the valuable lesson of blooming where you're planted. A hard lesson, but very applicable to a nomad.

And who would be excited about living in Detroit for 18 months? Unless you have a death wish and were prepared by living in Oakland, California or something.

When I opened my mission call and read Michigan instead of Germany, I thought it would have been better to have been called to be a martyr. I didn't sign my acceptance letter for a week. I couldn't stop crying when I was by myself. However, I signed up for the mission and I wasn't going to back out.

Detroit, and the mission for that matter, taught me my greatest life's lesson. You fall in love with what you work for. I will be the first to admit I didn't love the mission in the beginning. It was the hardest transition of my life, but the more I worked for it, the more I wanted it, and the more I wanted it, the more I wanted to share it. Before I knew it, I was in love. I was in love with the people. I was in love with what I was teaching. I was in love with the mission.

I wanted to know the percentage of my life spent in each state. I compiled a pie chart.

So where is my real home? Is it Colorado where I haven't trodden for a decade but spend the majority of my life? Is it Utah where I currently reside but always seem to step in and out of? Is it Arizona where I yearn to be because of the warmth and palm trees? Is it Michigan where I learned what love is? Is it Idaho where I grew? Where is home?

Maybe my life was meant to keep me moving. Maybe my home is a tank full of gas, a map and a packed suitcase waiting by my bedroom door.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

The Bathroom: A Sacred Place

The homeowners before be painted their bathrooms and kitchen a sage green. Sure, it's an acceptable color and a few people, (my roommate and my mother,) appreciate that color. Unlike the majority of my life, I'm pretty boring when it comes to home decor. Give me neutrals! Give me space! Give me traditional colors! Give me easy on the eyes walls!

I decided to paint and update my bathroom over the Christmas break. I've been wanting to do it for a few months now. Here's the exciting project!


The before:
video


Ug. Super Ug.


video
The After