where in the world is carmen sandiego?

when i was a kid, i used to get heckled a lot.

it wasn’t because i was funny lookin, or because i spoke with a lisp, or even because my dad had a big ears, it happened because i couldn’t answer a simple question.

a simple but very common question.

in fact, dare i say the second most common question that a child will be asked while growing up: ‘boy, where’r you from?’

(the most common question asked is: ‘whats’ur name?’).

because i didn’t have a simple answer to what most people considered a simple question, i was constantly picked on.

‘dontchya know where yur frum?’

‘are you soo stoopid thatchya momma and daddy don’t wanna tell ya?’

‘nobody wants ya, so yur not from anywhere!’

the simpletons hassling me hadn’t been anywhere, and they hadn’t done anything. so they mistakenly thought that every simple question has a simple answer.

unfortunately my life has never been that simple.

*so let me try explain: i am a us citizen who was born overseas, and ive spent the majority of my life living outside of the united states.

in fact, by the time i was eighteen years old, i had already lived in five countries, and six different cities.

and by the time i was twenty two years old, the number of cities had grown by three, to a total of nine cities.

which doesn’t include the number of states that ive ‘resided in’ for work (a total of nine states).

nor does it count my stint working abroad (which brings the work total upto nine states, and two countries).

hell! i won’t even bother factoring in all of the places that ive merely visited (because there are simply too many to count).

i think you get the picture.

nothing is ever THAT simple.

and when you’ve traveled as much as i have, and you’ve moved as many times as i did, you can understand why i sometimes wax philosophical with these types of questions…

what do you mean when you say ‘from’?

where am i now?

where am i going next?

when am i leaving?

when will i get there?

who will i meet?

who am i going with?

who can i depend on?

ive asked myself these questions many a time.

and they’re all good questions to ask - but lately ive found myself concentrating more on the questions related to ‘who’ and less on any of the others.

throughout my childhood, i never knew who i would meet at any given time. but i always knew who i would be with - my family.

and whenever we moved (wherever we moved), i knew that i could ONLY depend myself and my family to be around. which is not to say that my friends were unreliable, rather its to say that most of my friends (and their families) were just like me – traveling vagabonds.

i never knew who would be pulled out of school because their dad had to manage his company’s far east manufacturing operations out of guangzhou. or i never knew if my best friend would be coming back after summer vacation, because MAYBE his father would be sent to hamburg to become the european president of esprit de corp.

shit like that was always happening to me.

which is oh-so-very-boo-effin-hoo. (ha!)

and i dont mean for this to be a sob story, rather i want to explain that from an early age i learned to be VERY self reliant. my family was a bedrock of support, but i always knew that when it came down to it, it was all on me.

ESP when it comes to moving from one place to the next…

which is an especially interesting statement to make, consider that im moving further into the bowels of lincoln park this weekend.

which is not a big move by any means, but its a move nonetheless.

and if you’ve ever had to do it, you know that moving ten blocks or ten states is practically the same thing. you still gotta box shit your up. you still gotta contact a gazillion people about your address change. and you still gotta physically move everything on and off of a moving truck.

and therein lies the rub.

because most of these activities i can (will do) on my own. BUT short of hiring movers (a bit silly for the seven pieces of big furniture that i have), i have to ask friends for help.

and i don’t ask friends for help. EVER.

but this time i have to ask. and its been a GREAT social barometer – because moving makes me think about who im close enough with to ask for help. it also makes me realize who is a good enough friend to offer. and when people actually show up to help me move, it will make me realize how many true friends i really have.

they say that choosing who is invited to your wedding is not (necessarily) about who you are friends with now, its about who you want to be friends with in the future.

and on a smaller scale, moving can provide similar insight into the same types of questions – and the results can be either a relief, or a letdown.

either way, ill soon know the answer to the question: ‘who can i depend on?

at least for a little while.

*im not trying to brag (hmph DFK!) ha!

~ if i could put her (or her writing) in my pocket, and carry her (it) around all day, i would ~
~ so you're sayin' theres a chance! ~

(all lollapollala pics are copyright the nytimes and (or) the AP)