Wanderlust

I asked today on Facebook and Twitter: "Which is more important: roots or wings?"

The higher number of responses was for wings, though most people said both.
(And my friend, Dave, was quick to point out that he likes both BBQ wings and root beer, which probably counts as a vote in the "both" column.)

My favorite response came from my older sister-in-law-ish --who, coincidentally, without incident or cause, listed herself as my sister-in-law on Facebook last year, which I thought was pretty cool. I'm paraphrasing here, but she said that wings allow you to find the place where you want to put roots down.

Not only is that an awesome piece of wisdom, but it goes along with another train of thought I had earlier.

This whole thing got started when I realized that I do not know if I could put roots down anywhere right now. I should --yes-- but I am not married, do not have children, and do not have any way of actually putting roots down right now.

The thing is, I've been thinking about where the future will take me. Literally: where.
The plan, a year ago, was to move to Denver after the semester ended and after my boyfriend found a job.
Well, if you've been here for this insane ride, you'll know that the only part of that happened was that the semester ended. The boyfriend is still in Denver, but has no job to afford an apartment for even himself.
I spent a week in Denver after graduation last May. It was lovely, but my homecoming revealed how much I missed the quiet of my country life. Visiting a friend's apartment in a small city like Greeley made me realize that I may not be able to live in an apartment; I'm afraid it would always feel like a hotel and never like home. (It probably doesn't help that this particular friend's apartment complex is set up like a hotel: long, inner hallways with doors in groups of two on opposite sides of said hallway, and paper-thin walls, too.) Maybe that would be good for me, though: I have always been super organized and sparse when staying in hotels. (Though the showers tend to average about 40 minutes.) Ha.

There is so much of this world that I want to see: the Great Smoky Mountains, upper state New York, Tuscany, the Black Forest, Wales, Ireland, Scotland, the French countryside, India, North Carolina, Montana...
I would love to live in a woodland cabin in upstate New York for a few years. I want to experience a full year in the Mediterranean climes of LA. (That's one metropolis I have wanted to pack everything up and move to on a whim.) The forests of Oregon & Washington are amazing, and I would love to experience them as an adult. They are so massive, though, that without living there, it would be impossible to see them in all of their seasonal beauty.

I don't know.

I had urges earlier today to just live somewhere for a few years and then move.
What kind of job would I need to do that? How would I make the big money? Houseflipping?

Meh. I know I would be happy long term in Colorado. But, dang, there are things I need to see, touch, taste, feel and experience in this world. Visiting those places may not cut it. I guess I'll have to wait until I have a decent job, save vacation days, and take the world by storm someday. Or something.

I just hate feeling...stuck. Maybe that's the catalyst that brought on all these thoughts today. I don't have wings to go anywhere to determine where I really want to be.
Yes, I said I'd be happy long term in Colorado. That's true. But I have really only lived here and, for less than six months one academic school year, in Missouri, which is kinda like here only more humid.

Le sigh.
This girl needs to get away.