I keep changing and growing, I swear

... but I'm afraid of sounding redundant. This summer seems to (still) be, so far, about a sense of place and a sense of self, and how I'm at a point in life where they're different. More than my house no longer feeling like home (I've lived here maybe six weeks in the last year), my room no longer being mine (all the furniture is different except the bookcases), and Denver no longer feeling like the place I live (I'm surprised by the friendliness or the weather or just the sight of the mountains way too often), the idea of being 'from' here is becoming more and more distant. Last weekend, we had baseball tickets on a night when my dad and sister were out of town. My mom offered to let me use all of them to take friends to the game; after getting four negatives, I realized I could count the number of people in D-town I see regularly when I'm back on one hand. I ended up going with my mom, and it was an enjoyable game (we lost, badly, in a game that was vintage 1994-era Rockies), but it still feels a little scary when you can't find even one friend you go to a game with anymore. At this point, three-plus years out, people I haven't seen since high school or earlier are basically gone, and this summer in particular it seems like everyone found somewhere else to go. Although I have too, and will be leaving now in a week and a half, it's definitely disconcerting to feel like your hometown has emptied out so decisively.

From the people I do see, I realize that this disconnect cuts both ways. I was hanging out tonight with Chris, having a couple beers and playing video games, when he got a phone call from a girl he was trying to impress. I overheard him tell her what he was up to, and then, "Yeah, I'm with Sam. Oh, he's a friend from way back--he goes to school all over the place now and is only around for a month each year, so, yeah... I don't think you've met him." It's been so easy, moving around all the time, to get lost in my own experience, see everything as part of some epic journey sort of plot in which I'm the protagonist. That mindset, though, obscures and even denies the place for my family's and my friends' views: still not settled, here-and-gone-again, and so on. Even if I didn't see everyone all that frequently back in the day, there was at least some regularity--this week brought back memories of watching a shitload of World Cup 2002 games with Tom or with Corey and Mark, staying up all night and going out for breakfast after. I know that time zones make this one different (games at 7am, 10am and 1) and less suitable for socialization, but even watching soccer here is tinged with nostalgia.

As far as "sense of self," I'm still stuck with a whole laundry list of things I want to do or be and that, if I only tried a little bit harder (I tell myself I'm only the littlest bit away), I could accomplish. Well, I still wake up an hour after I set the alarm, my car is unwashed, my room needs paint and a tidying up, and I still can't run a 5K without slowing to catch my breath, and I only have half my time at home left which had been designated to recenter and refocus. At least some things are getting figured out: my mom and I made a pact--if I work out on a given day, she works out, and vice versa--and I figure that even if I'm not motivated enough to do this for me, it puts some external pressure on. I also hope to self-improve by buying things, and, honestly, that's easy enough that I'll be at least moving in the right direction.