On my birthday last year, I went to an Orioles game in which they were playing against the Red Sox.

I jokingly took this as a sign from the universe that whichever team emerged victorious would win not only the game but also my allegiance as a hometown.

The Orioles ended up smoking the Sox 18-7, and I walked out of the game a little confused not just about how such a high-scoring baseball game was possible but also about what that victory meant for me.


Confusion highlighted by my Red Sox hat and Orioles shirt


I’m in a bit of weird place right now.

Physically, I’m sitting in Shaffer 3 waiting for Design Team lecture to start, so other than the questionable wifi connection in my seat, there’s nothing weird about my current physical location.

What’s weird is the current phase of my life, best described as being somewhere between the dependence of childhood and independence of adulthood.

Even weirder is the fact that I don’t really know where I’m from anymore.

Over break, someone asked me where I was from. While this seems like a simple question, it took me a few seconds to think about my answer. Even though I’m technically from Westford, MA, I spend almost all of my time in Baltimore, and for the first time ever, I don’t know the next time I’m going home.

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The home in question

I came back for Intersession a month ago, I have a spring break trip to Florida planned with some friends, and I have an internship lined up for the summer in DC.

I’ll probably pop back to Massachusetts for a weekend at some point, but for the first time since I got to college 3 (???!!!!???!!) years ago, I don’t have anything on the calendar.

As a freshman, this would have freaked me out a little, but as a junior, this isn’t scary to me at all, as Baltimore has come to feel like home.

My friends are here, I have favorite coffee shops and restaurants, and I can navigate the city with relative ease.


food is good. coffee is good. Baltimore’s geotags are also very good

Don’t get me wrong. I love Massachusetts and still get the occasional pang of homesickness and longing for the couch in my basement and my mom’s apple crisp.

But for now, I think I live in Baltimore, and I am more than okay with that.