We humans love to be part of something larger than ourselves, don`t we?

With great difficulty, I admitted to myself that my "home" is an ugly urban neighborhood in central Tokyo.

My wanderlust is starting to hit me for the first time in a long time. I think it's due to job frustrations. Homelife precludes the kind of move I'd like to make. My wife (and the dog) would probably be up for a move in the US, but i'm thinking I'd rather go farther than that. My wife wouldn't be up for a move outside the US (and, I think, neither would the dog, but I could be wrong about that).


Speaking from experience, it definitely is hard to give up hard-won contacts, etc. when changing venues as a mid-level attorney. That is one of the downsides about law - the difficulty of switching states, etc (even if you can waive in and not re-take the bar exam).

At some point in the next few years(when the kids are a bit older), we plan to take advantage of my spouse's academic careers and do a visiting semester abroad, assuming I can get leave from work. Can't wait.


I think it's true that a gypsy childhood breeds an inordinate need for self-applied labels. While conventionally-raised people often shy away from labels as "extreme" or "oversimplified", I-of the twenty different houses and ever-oscillating address-derive great pleasure from that sort of affiliation, including semi-desperate moves like signing up for a flamenco class because my deceased grandpa was Castilian. While I too crave life without boundaries, I think everyone still desires, if not a home, at least to be a link in history.

A Free-Spirit, Evangelical Feminist Bombshell

For more accounts of gypsy childhoods read Jeanette Walls fascinating memoir "The Glass Castle" or my significantly-less-interesting-but-still- good blog "Bohemian Belljar."

The Happy Feminist

Ooh, very cool. Thanks Belle. (Sigh -- so much great reading to do, so little time!)


If you go to India, bring tampons. Bring extra ones, too, and some grateful woman will forever thank you. The Indian version is really suboptimal and even the Delhi Hilton doesn't have American ones in the gift shop.

-The Voice of Experience.


I grew up moving, moving, moving all the time. So when I came to my current city in '92, I moved in and ROOTED. Heck, I didn't leave my neighbourhood for a year. (Of course, I was also abysmally poor at the time...)
Then I had kids.
NOW I have wanderlust.
Gack. The irony.


Your post partially inspired me to write about my roots and family homes today. So thanks.


Hey, you're not alone! You grew up as a "Third Culture Kid", and there are millions of us.


rate my camel toe

i agree with the last post you are not alone on this. this drives me crazy.

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