Can you be homesick at home?

Home is a lot of things. Home is where the heart is, where you lay your head down at night, where your morning paper is delivered, where you're comfortable to walk around in undies and a huge tee-shirt, where you go after a long day to find a comfortable couch and television remote to take your brain away. For the past 22 years, home has been wherever those people on that raft drinking Red Stripe are. 

Home is something I'm not sure I'm comfortable talking about. I'll talk about the forbiddens - politics, religion, sex, books, sexuality. I'll tell you I'm a liberal democrat, who's totally okay in the contraceptive aisle of the drug store, who's favorite book is and always will be Catcher in the Rye, believes in peace through literacy and gay marriage. I won't judge you if you're a conservative republican who cringes at the thought of sex education, who loves a great Jane Austen manners novel, who sees the sanctity of marriage as between a man and a woman. But...ask me where I'm from? That's just not dinner table talk, dude. You just don't go there. 

Mostly because your eyes could get stuck in a rolled position. I'm going to tell you I'm from Providence, RI, Charlotte, NC, Forest Hill, MD, The Woodlands, TX, and Shepherdstown, WV. You'll learn how long I lived in each place and my justifications for calling each place my home. Sorry, it's a complicated subject. 

There's a certain beauty in growing up transient. One of the greatest benefits is the bond you form with your nuclear family, the people who are there in each packed and unpacked box and home walkthrough. I wouldn't change anything. I had no permanence, my grandparents didn't live a few blocks away and no one could point to a wall and see how much I had grown between ages 10 and 11. Honestly, it wasn't until middle school that I realized not everyone lived this way. 

People assume that, because of this, it was easy just to pack up the car and move on my own. Yes. Shepherdstown is more "home" in the traditional sense of the word than anyplace else, but those people in that picture weren't there for the move this time, and they're pretty far away. Bad days, during the Shepherd undergrad chapter could be cured with a few hours of driving and a home cooked meal with mom and dad. Those don't happen anymore, and Texas and West Virginia sometimes feel like they couldn't possibly be farther apart. 

So, sometimes, when I'm home, I get homesick. I know this is a part of being a 20-something. I understand. It's like moving from Easy Mac, to the old fashioned butter, milk and powdered cheese mac, to, I don't know, Osso Buco. 

The distance makes this right of passage easier. And, at the risk of sounding really teenage-y and emo...I wish people could understand that a little more. 

I miss my family today. 

Little Rhody

I arrived safely in Rhode Island about 45 minutes ago, I'd say. It's been a horribly long day, but lucky for you that makes for a slightly punchier me! 

My alarm went off at 5. Five-o-clock. AM. In the morning. I had to leave by six in the morning. Ante Meridiem if you will. The sun wasn't out, but when I hit 270 towards DC, I was surprised at the number of cars that were there, driving into the sun rising over the circumference of D.C. that forgets which side the gas pedal is on. With the metro running how it was, and me unsure of where to park, I just barely made it to my train. 

At this point, my appetite for breakfast had not even been close to satisfied. My bagel from Sheetz was dry and disappointing, so I traded it in at the train station for some crackers. Big surprise, they were even more dry. I opted for the least-beaten-up apple at Primo Cappuccino which wasn't dry and surprisingly tasty. It made up for what would be my lunch. A hot dog microwaved for 45 seconds and a bag of potato chips. 

I know none of you care about this, but as my stomach growls and becomes more and more hungry, all I can really think about is food. And the delicious peanut butter cookies I made for Christmas and brought from home for my journey. 

There was a man on the metro who creeped me out. Big surprise. At first, I thought perhaps he indulged in a poppy seed bagel for breakfast and was checking his teeth for renegade poppies. This is completely explainable on the metro in the slightly-reflective plasticglass at seven in the morning. He was, indeed, conversing with his reflection and digging into his pockets like any great movie psychopath. In the anxiety I've had over the past two or three days, I almost hopped off the train in Bethesda and got back on the train three minutes behind. Almost. Yet again, my anxiety was proven wrong, and he was just feeling a little chatty and exited the train when we got to Tenleytown. 

In my observations on the Northeast Regional over the past two weeks, I've discovered a slightly more normal passenger group than on the Capitol Limited or the Texas Eagle. Perhaps it is because of the larger number of business people trying to get here from there - but it makes for poor people watching. The only real hilarity on the ride up here was one of the assistant conductors. Conversation to follow. 

"What's the stop right before Providence?" I ask, needing to know so my dad could come get me. 

"I don't know," conductor says proudly, "I get off at New York. What is it?"

Blank stare, trying to figure out if he really just re-asked me my question teacher-style or if I'm just showing early signs of sleep deprivation. 

"I think it's Kingston, is that right?" 

Blank stare continues as the assistant conductor pulls out a piece of paper. 

"Kingston, yes, Kingston, Rhode Island is before Providence. That sounds about right doesn't it?" 

"Um. Great." 

I'm so lucky I made it here and did not end up in a) Boston or b) standing on a curbside in unfamiliar downtown Providence for any extended period of time. 

We're waiting on my cousin to head out to dinner. In the meantime, I think I'll have another cookie.

On a side note: my grandmother always said that if you couldn't laugh you would cry. Her sentiments are getting me through all of this, her sentiments and the poor, lost assistant conductor.

So much to reflect on...

As of this morning, I have so much reflecting to do - but I think I'll do my best to focus on the good things that came of this Christmas, rather than the bad, because this year was honestly the best Christmas I've had with my family in a really long time. It was warm, cozy and not over the top, gift wise. It was as close to perfect as you can get. 

Even the boyfriend's family part went much better than I expected. I'd like to blame the smooth going on my excellent coffee-making ability and my delicious cookies and monkey bread, but I'm sure it would have been smooth even without those things. (But...the coffee and monkey bread were stellar) 

The nerd that I am got my external hard drive and green bags from Santa, along with a few other goodies, including a grown up school bag for my master's endeavors, some place mats and enough money in Starbucks and the Lost Dog to last me a good while. John added to my obsession with the show "Weeds" by providing me with seasons 1 - 3, some Hunter S. Thompson CDs and Beatles' Monopoly. We had delicious roast beef for dinner, with potatoes and vegetables and I made a pretty killer pumpkin pie and a ton of cookies. 

The holidays bring out the most Suzie Homemaker in me. 

Christmas Eve at Trinity was beautiful, I sang and rang, to keep things short. The day with my family was incredible. We all sat around my house, a little lazy, opening gifts and taking money from each other in Beatles' Monopoly. (Anyone ever finished a game??) We ended the night with "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation," pie and hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps. 

I worked my last (very busy) day at the LHBP. Today was supposed to be the last, but we heard news this morning that my aunt passed away early this morning. This brings me to the downside of the holidays. This is all going to turn out to be a blessing in disguise, but, until we get to the blessing part, it's a bit difficult. Mom and I are headed to Rhode Island to be with my cousin on Monday. 

Not a good way to end the year - but, everything happens for a reason, I'm sure of it. 

Hope your holidays were filled with good food, company and gifts. Have a safe transition into 2009. I should be a little more perky come a few days from now. 

"Have they ever met the Bush family?"

Since my family moved to Texas, you wouldn't believe how many times I've been asked the question: 

"Have they ever met the Bush family?!" 

Honestly? That's like asking someone who lives in California if they've ever met Brangelina or TomKat. 

I always respond the same way. Texas is a big state and the Bush family is just one family there and even though my parents do live in Houston, no, they have never met George H.W. and Barbara. 

However, as I write this, my parents are sitting on an airplane from Houston to Baltimore, hobnobbing and sharing peanuts with Bush 41 and the former first lady. 

Ok, I may have lied about the peanuts and the hobnobbing...but my parents have some regular American royalty on their flight. (If my son was president, I'd demand he send Air Force One when I went to visit for Christmas) Dad called me a few hours ago for our pre-flight chat. He said George Bush was in the front row of the airplane. 

"The smarter?" I said, dumbfounded. 

"Yeah, with Barbara," dad said, like he was telling me it was raining.

"No he's not. There's no way. Dub-yuh doesn't send Air Force One to get him? 

"Guess not. Bad economy."

"You're lying." 

"Not this time, I'm not."

"Get me an autograph for proof then."

"I'll see what I can do. There's Secret Service in front of me, but he's a bit slow these days, I'll try and catch him when the plane lands."

"I wouldn't say catch in association with a former president, just walk briskly, please. Just make sure you tell him the story about when he was elected and you came home from work with a stuffed elephant for me that you told me to name George." 

So, apparently, my parents didn't get their first class upgrade, because the seats were needed for all the Secret Service agents on the flight and everyone was walking on the plane with huge WTFs painted on their foreheads whispering to each other. Should my father successfully catch said former president without being arrested by the Secret Service, I'll scan some sort of proof. 

So, anyone here from California??

The Holidays - Grown-Up Edition

I think today marks the end of my first grown-up holiday. I'll be leaving on a northbound bus to a northbound train today around 1:00. As a matter of fact, I should be packing currently, but figured I would give this Thanksgiving a bit more thought before I am banished to a train of either screaming children already high on holiday sweets or creepy people who want to be my friend. 

My parents only moved to Texas in February, and it's a bit of an adjustment from when they lived two hours away from Shepherdstown at our home in Forest Hill, Md. When it all comes down to it, the only attachment I really had left in Forest Hill was its proximity to me. Really there can't be any place farther (culturally and physically) away from me when I'm in West Virginia. But, in this life you do what you have to do, and Texas was their big (pun completely intended) have to do. 

I don't think the previous paragraph really ties in with anything, but it seemed important so bear with me. One of my journalism professor's biggest complaints about my style of writing was that it never really connected. (Hey, man, hasn't he ever heard of stream of consciousness?)

Back to my first grown-up holiday. In my conversations with the people in the train stations and dining cars I met on my way down, I actually told them "I'm going to my parents' house for Thanksgiving." This is something I never could have envisioned saying. I was always "going home for the holidays" or "heading back to Har/Co" (which, if you're from Harford County, for whatever reason Har/Co is synonymous with home). This time, I was going to my parents place, this is the first house they've had in my lifetime that I cannot possibly associate any ties of "home" to. 

This, to me, is bizarre and one of the first signs of being an adult. To make it more grown-up, they're coming to my house for Christmas, you know, that whole trading off of holidays that old people do. 

Esh. Holi-daze. 

Regardless, my visit here was nice. Much more positive than my summer visit. It's cooler - but still warm, mind you - and there are more people squirming about because the temperature has dropped below boiling. We went to a hockey game (yes, ice) and it became so apparent that Texans love their sports teams, regardless of the sport. Texans are a proud people in a way that no one in this country is proud of their state and I actually have to commend them for that. Everyone should be proud of where they live, that's what the homeless hippy I met in Haight-Ashbury in San Francisco said. 

"I want you to say where you're from, and smile while you're saying it!" And, as it turned out, he had family in West Virginia. 

I head home to mountains of West Virginia and mountains of Christmas decorating to do, holiday shoppers to defeat (read: sell up) and children to combat. I have a kitty who needs her stitches removed. The "Vagina Monologues" need auditioning for and I need to get myself into tip-top holiday shape (not exercise. ew). 

But first, a train. 

Happy First Day in Advent (if you're down with Christianity). If not, happy Sunday. To shoppers - I hope you got all of the sales you intended this weekend. To fellow retailers - I hope you survived the rush wherever you work. 

Happy Thanksgiving!

I was going to carry over a note I put on Facebook last night. One that told everyone how incredibly thankful I am for them this year and every year on Thanksgiving, but I'm feeling so inspired because of the attached video (I'm not kidding) I decided to do a different one. So, be thankful. 

It's Thanksgiving. When the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade started this morning, so did my favorite season of the year. The season of love and happiness, good music and great food. The season of even greater company that lasts from Thanksgiving Day (minus evil, evil Black Friday) through January 6 (Epiphany...you know...the Twelve Days of Christmas, all that?). 

I told my friend Ryan that I was going to make this the hap-hap-happiest holiday season ever, because let's face it, with the news these days we all need it. I'm even going to try my hardest to be downright peppy towards the holiday shoppers that come in to LHBP.

I woke up this morning to make a pumpkin pie from scratch and my father's family's meat and potato stuffing. So Suzie Homemaker. I love how the house smells right now. Mom put an 18 pound turkey in the oven about a half hour ago. (Yes, I'm aware 18 pounds is entirely unnecessary for three people, but apparently it was free) I can't wait for the turkey-induced coma that awaits me this evening. 

I'll keep it short so you all can get to your eatin'! Happy Thanksgiving to all. Give thanks, eat, drink and merry make. Enjoy the start of a fantastic holiday season! (And, this stop motion video - I hope it doesn't happen to my pie...)

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

The Good: 

• Wing night at Tony's...$4.50 pitchers and great friends
• Talking to the HR woman for Washington County Public Schools and learning I can start subbing as soon as my screening clears (in two weeks!) 
• Telling my manager at LHBP that I'll need to limit my hours there when I start subbing
• My kitty attacking my boyfriend's lap top case
• My boyfriend in general

The Bad:

• Our district manager came in today. I didn't greet her. I got in trouble
• Spending 7 hours putting away bras and not really having customers
• Closing on aforementioned wing night
• Not being too sure what I'm getting into with this subbing business

The Ugly: 

• My parents left yesterday. I miss them. 

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

The reason for two posts like this in a row will be explained in the section headed...'The Ugly.' 

The Good: 

• Family being here, getting a bike and hanging beautiful pictures in my house
• John being understanding with how tired I've been recently
• The glorious, glorious invention of DVR
• The second lesson in church today (Philippians 4:1-9)
• The hymn we always sing for a baptism (Hymn #490 'I want to walk as a child of the light...)
• Blueberry pie
• Twitter (I'm beetee over there, if anyone reading is interested)

The Bad:

• Family leaving
• Little kitty scratches
• Not playing clarinet recently, still

The Ugly:

• Not being inspired enough to write anything substantial. At all. I'm blaming it on my job. 

My writing flow has been completely disrupted because of this job. I don't like it and am not functioning well because of it. If you're reading...ask me some sort of obscure question or give me something funny to write about. Comments totally welcome. 

Thanks for reading