Taking the long way

I thought I'd start with the business of introducing myself.

I was born in upstate New York and kept my feet fairly firmly planted there until I was 17.

That's when I left home for my first of five (five!) colleges. I was never one for the well-worn path, I suppose. Sarah Lawrence was college number one, and represents my shortest undergraduate stretch. I lasted there only one semester.

I was back in my hometown for the next eight-ish months and took courses at a local community college, which I followed up with two years at a state school about two hours away. I spent many weekends back home. To say I didn't find my niche in college is a drastic understatement. I was not a comfy co-ed. I was mostly wanting to get out.

I dropped out of college altogether after my third year. Moved to Charlotte, North Carolina, got a job tending bar, and had the time of my life. It was a work hard, play hard kind of lifestyle, with emphasis on the play. But I made friends I'll never forget. I was lucky enough to make a return visit this spring to see two of them marry. Each other. I'm not going to lie, there may have been a tear or two shed at that ceremony.

After Charlotte I followed a boy up to Washington D.C., after a slight detour back home. I re-enrolled in school, at the teeny tiny women's college that would eventually (finally!!) grant me my Bachelor's degree. But I figured my college career wouldn't be complete without at least one more university under my belt, so I spent my final undergraduate semester at Universidad de Belgrano in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

That itty bitty girl is me, in front of the Casa Rosada (The Pink House), which is like the Argentinian equivalent of the White House:

The picture quality leaves a lot to be desired, but the camera was a klunker and never took great photos. So that's what I've got.

Moving on. After Argentina came another stint in my hometown, followed by a brief late-winter recess living on Cape Cod with my grandmother. Then it was a hop, skip, and a jump across the pond to Martha's Vineyard, where I was offered an editorial internship (yes, internship. 1.5 years after graduating from college. Bless the recession's little heart.) But it all turned out well in the end, because the summer internship turned into a sweet full-time job as a staff reporter for a 200-year-old newspaper. It's been around that long for a reason. I've never been so proud to see my byline displayed in smudgy black ink across the front page.

My journey winds up with a move to Chicago, where I've been perched for just shy of a year. But the world is large, folks. There are adventures yet to be had, I dare say.