for the first time in four years, i'm about to spend more than a weekend living at my parent's place. don't get me wrong: there are worse things than being well-fed, retail-pampered, and forced to soak in 80-degree miami sunshine in the middle of winter.

but the weird thing about being home is that ... well, it's my second home. and while this place has plenty of canine activity, snack variety, and familial adoration, it lacks my own feline children, my extensive toiletry collection, and most importantly: my comcast DVR. and on a more sentimental level, being here means that i miss my adopted kin.

growing up, i was instilled with two mantras that continue to serve as the foundation of my life:

1. education is the most important thing in life.
(in case you aren't familiar with my current endeavors, checkmark.)

2. family comes first. period.
(in case you are keeping track, "it's not cheating if you don't get caught" (see emerging unvictorious) isn't really a family-law; it is more of a "best-practices" suggestion.)

while family continues to be central to my life, i'm beginning to be more cognizant of the fact that for the last seven years, my life has been shaped less by the relatives to whom i'm related by blood, and more by the family by whom i'm surrounded on a daily basis. and i think that this phenomenon is a pillar of the twenty-something experience.

it's not that i love or depend on my nuclear family any less. in fact, if anything, i have become closer to my siblings -- see joshua tree, 13 going on 30 -- as we've grown into adults ... well, adult-ish). and it's not that the lessons and influences instilled by my parents are any less prevalent.

rather, it's the notion that when we're away from home, we build a necessary support system that fulfills the obligations of family: it's the immediate parental-like reminder that what's right isn't always easy, that brownies don't count as vegetables, and that safe sex isn't necessarily prudent sex. or something like that.

part of the twenty-something experience is the transformation from dependence on individuals with whom we share genes to a reliance on people with whom we share jeans.

some people call these relationships "family of choice." anthropologists talk about "voluntary family" and "fictive kin." i like to call it "survival of the fittest." but apparently that phrase is already taken.

so i'm hereby calling it the "gene-to-jean" phenomenon.

one of the most challenging issues with the graduate school social landscape is that, unlike college or high school in which a core group of friends defines one's academic, partying, and dinner schedules, no one really has a single nuclear family. there's this widespread "floating" mentality whereby each person's support system is a web of relationships rather than a single trampoline of them.

there is the guy you study with. the girl you play wing(wo)man for. the kids you pre-party with. the guy who lives next door (hi justin!). the section. the learning team. the latinos. the jews. the latino jews. the good influences. the bad influences. the good influences who subsequently become bad influences. and the disproportionately good looking rugby team (hi carter!).

despite the fact that i still feel intensely lonely at school, there's also something to be said about sitting in the same seat (that i didn't choose), in the same classroom, with the same 89 people for no less than 18 hours a week ... and usually far more.

in an experience that tests every ounce of personal conviction, personal satisfaction, and personal growth, this past semester seemed to leave little time or energy to make the personal relationships that are fundamental to the "gene to jean" phenomenon.

which makes defining exactly what i miss difficult: turns out that somewhere along the way, the people who -- by chance -- were physically around me grew on me emotionally. in a lot of different -- and often complex -- ways.

but i guess these relationships wouldn't be legitimately family-esque if they didn't come with issues. or alcohol.