oh the places you'll go

I remember in 8th grade when my parents let me bike to soccer practice for the first time. I took my cleats and shinguards and water and stuffed it into a knapsack and proudly rode off in my Kmart mountain bike for what seemed like so far away -- 2 miles.

Before that, I remember when I could only go to cul-de-sac two houses away, but then in 6th grade, when a new family moved in that our family became friends with, so I could walk all the way down the street to hang out with Dave.

After freshmen year of high school, Eddie and I wandered the streets of University of Delaware, but somehow came to the conclusion that Burger King was the best restaurant in all of Main street.

After miraculously landing a high school internship, Billy and I donned button up shirts for the first time, and I went out and bought a shiny new watch -- from CVS. We were sixteen year old boys, surrounded by suits.

Then senior year, our high school had enough trust in its NHS students to let them run loose through the streets of New York. The four of us thought we knew how to get around New York, but quickly were humbled by the fact that we didn't actually know what to see in NYC or really, where anything was. This was before everyone had smartphones. Unsurprisingly but also somewhat amazing, we did end up having a delicious and cheap meal in Chinatown.

I also convinced my dad that year to take me to visit UCLA. I already knew that I didn't want to go to the school -- it was too much money, and I didn't get in for engineering, but I convinced him anyway because I wanted to see Los Angeles.

Now, since those years, I've been in an airport more times than I count and could probably give my dad a run for his money with the times I've had a rental car and I'm not even 25. I pride myself on having visited so many major cities and being familiar with their streets and cultures. I don't consider myself a big spender when it comes to the everyday things, but when it comes to airplane tickets, perhaps my bank account isn't too pleased.

This is not to say anything about the importance of traveling (or the importance of staying somewhere), but really just to stop and remember. A lot of times I don't think I've come very far, and most days I wonder if I'm actually getting anything done. But today I want to remember that I've come a long way since that familiar cul-de-sac, within the reach of my mother's loving eyes. I'm still only 23, a long way from not only being independent but also having others depend on me, but we're slowly getting there.