"You're [in a car], don't notice the miles and months fly by."

For those who may not know, my place of residence has changed a great number times over the course of my life. So far, the longest I've lived anywhere (and when I say this I mean physical space in the same location; I've lived in the same town but not the same dwelling for more than three years, and there have also been instances in which my dwelling has moved) is approximately three years, and that being the exception, it seems like an eternity. Three years has only happened once. The average is much shorter. I've been in this house from which I am writing for two years now, and I've had an underlying feeling that I could be moving at any moment for a while. That's how ingrained it is in me.

Arkansas is my place of birth. My family left there, after I had already lived in three different places, a few months before I turned seven years old. Because all of our extended family still lives there, many trips have been made back there. So many trips, in fact, that as a child I quickly became accustomed to being in the car for at least 6-7 hours. For about as long as I can remember, that length of time has felt like nothing.

When I was in the fourth grade, my parents sent in an application to an academic magnet school for me, to see if I could make it in for middle school starting in the fifth grade. Apparently my grades fit their standards, because they let me in, and I started going there when I was 10 years old. I mention this because the school was in downtown Nashville. I didn't live in downtown Nashville. Anyone who has been in downtown Nashville during rush hour traffic knows how long it can take to get anywhere. From my house to my school, one way, was approximately one hour. Going to school and from, I spent at least two hours in the car every day. My poor mother spent four hours, going there and coming back twice, once in the morning, once in the afternoon.

When I was 12, my parents started home schooling me, and not because of all the driving. Even though the word "home" is in home school, that did not translate into me never going anywhere. Like the other things I have mentioned, it actually also contributed to me spending long periods of time in the car. When you're home schooled, you have the freedom to go wherever, whenever, you want. So while we didn't go somewhere every day, it was a regular occurrence for us to load up in the car and be gone all day, going here, there and everywhere. At one point, the home school band my brother and I were in met quite a long distance from where we lived, so every band practice meant a short road trip. It also didn't help that the last place we lived before I started college was out in the middle of nowhere, so getting any place at all that wasn't the woods or a field took a time commitment. No Walmart right down the road. A neighbor with a still is what we had right down the road.

Considering all of this, I almost feel like I grew up in a car. Moving, visiting, going to school, almost everything I've done has required a great deal of time spent in a metal-framed contraption on four wheels.

Something else that struck me recently: even though I live in a house, and I've been living in it for two years, I still live in a suitcase. I don't have a place to put all of my clothes that don't hang in my closet, so luggage seemed like a logical choice in the absence of furniture.

Growing up in a car...living out of a suitcase even when you're in your home...could these be indicating something? It's interesting to consider the implications. Which is what I've been doing all evening.