the funny thing about coming home to an empty apartment far removed from the city i'm supposed to call home is the eagerness to find strength and comfort in the little things.

as i was putting away laundry tonight, i realized that my summer subset of my unnecessary large t-shirt collection in cambridge -- as anyone would do the same -- includes my very favorites. but what struck me about the pile of overworn shirts is how the small stack represents the things i hold most dear.

a quick inventory includes my:
wash u senior t-shirt,
business school section c t-shirt,
harvard law t-shirt,
"i-heart-pro-choice-boys" t-shirt,
and
hooters: boca raton. (naturally)

experts in the field of helping individuals without adequate coping mechanisms (like myself and my siblings) adapt to college argue that while transitions provide opportunities for personal growth, success vs. failure can often be attributed to the mere presence of having something familiar onto which to hold. it's the aforementioned strength and comfort.

and we all like to have familiar objects around us, especially if we're feeling anxious. or horny.

in an effort to surround myself with the familiar, a few weeks ago, i went down to the city of angels to see two (and a half) of my best friends from college -- neither of whom i've seen since one got married over a year ago.

the two are great.

spi is well ... still spi.

after a weekend of margaritas, posh santa monica bars, shopping, chocolate molten lava cakes, and more shopping, we were saying our goodbyes at the airport when i realized something i knew would come in handy for this blog. (and i said so at the time.)

much to the dismay of my forthcoming straight-out-of-college law school friends (sma), i am adamant about the notion that there is a fundamental change that happens during the year after one graduates from college.

sometime between the age of 22 and 23 is the true entree into the real twenty-something experience.

i can't quite put my finger on the pulse of the transformative experience, but it's when i realized that "see you in the morning" doesn't mean "let's meet at 3am." that getting dressed up doesn't mean putting on a clean pair of jeans. that cooking dinner doesn't involve a hotpot or ramen noodles. and that not having sex every night is relatively normal.

relatively.

indeed, in the three years since we had hugged goodbye after graduation (come to think of it, i only hugged jamie and ilana; i left st. louis cursing spi for a fight we never reconciled ... and never needed to), we had certainly changed.

we all wear our hair a little differently. put on makeup in the morning. and talk about grown up things like cleaning, paying rent, and work. our dynamic had definitely matured with our newfound consideration of the words we chose to express ourselves (they more than i).

but between jamie's boy troubles, ilana's cursing as she waited impatiently in line, and my inappropriate sexual innuendos, i realized that as much as things had changed, some things never would.

and 3000 miles away from my close friends, potential hook ups, and bamboo plant (not all mutually exclusive), it was exactly the familiar source of strength and comfort i needed.