everything has a name

I love living in other people's homes and understanding this has suspiciously led me to want to own my own house more than ever.

Waking up in a bed, bedroom and house that does not belong to me is exhilarating. I remember having this feeling nearly daily when I was in high school living at my parents' house. I was still surrounded by my accumulations and trinkets but somehow I always felt as though I was not "home." My family was there, a great deal of my memories sprung from there, and it always felt secure and welcoming. But I felt like a constant boarder. And, to be clear, this was a very good sensation. It was undeniably inspiring as far as gathering my courage to leave and not be anchored too solidly by the weight of roots.

Being a guest also has with it a certain expectation of courtesy. You may come and go as you please but make your bed and keep the rock music to a reasonable level when others are in the house. I have never owned my own house but for some reason I see it looking like this. Hearing a housekeeper of sorts beckoning me to straighten up the office desk, help clear the table and put the toilet seat down. I don't think I will hear this voice as an overbearing feminine presence as in a tasking mother or overbearing spouse. But merely a genderless, formless nudging towards understanding of everything I think I have may not in fact be "mine."

Everything changes hands. Either to another actually hand or the soil-y grip of Earth. I just think the idea of owning a house that was purchased with money my wife and I have earned is far too overwhelming and the reminder of it would only cause me to consider the fading away of all things.

brandonpiercegeary

kin

I burnt my hand quite badly and also made a delicious potato onion thing. This was the first proper injury and meal in our new home. We now live on Nicholas Street and have all the conveniences of a quaint, one-bedroom apartment of the 1950's. I haven't used this sort of gas oven for a few years and I forgot about the pilot light underneath. I had stored some of our plastic pot covers under there and now they are the consistency of Vermont maple syrup. Before it cooled down in our sink anyway. When I had reached beneath the oven to retrieve a lid for the pot I was cooking some green beans in I touched something metal and much too hot to be touching. I have a nice scar on my right, ring finger knuckle and about an inch above my wrist on the back side of my hand. This is actually the exact place on Melissa's hand where a ganglion cyst has been disappearing and reappearing for a couple years now. I feel a new level of affinity to her. We are misshapen and pained by our cursed spot. We are Lady Macbeth. We have secrets. We are kindred and we most certainly have each other for sharing.

brandonpiercegeary

It's always sunny in Omaha...

except when it is cloudy, of course. But as I was walking towards downtown I once again realized how truly dwarfish our "skyscrapers" are. We have two buildings that jut slightly over the heads of the "lesser" buildings and structures but I honestly find it hard to be terribly impressed by them. One First National Center stands a whopping 634' and the Woodmen Tower, made moderately famous to those unfamiliar with large insurance companies by director and local hero Alexander Payne's movie About Schmidt, is a hardly notable 478'. As I passed them today I didn't have to crane my neck or strain my eyes to see their top floors. I thought about how I would feel perhaps a larger helping of local pride if there were immense monuments declaring something to be proud of.

Although this derth of height helps keep a definite humble air about town, even with the fact of being eighth in the country in both per-capita billionaires and fortune 500 companies, it also helps the sunshine reach the wide city streets and numerous neighborhood parks. So when the sun shines it pours all over every cove and alley in Omaha. So in retrospect I am quite shamed by my lack of attention to things that actually matter in making a city truly great. Tall buildings are probably more of a hinderance to helpful pride and happiness as they separate rather than bring community. Even these relatively short buildings distracted me from noticing elements far more lovely than any edifice could afford.