Home

There is something about home that I have a hard time describing. It's a feeling that no other place seems to give me. I would be lying if I said being at school makes me unhappy but, being home makes me happy. There is just things about home that school can never really have. Not too be confused, my home is not my house. Though my house is conveniently located at my home. It's hard to explain but, I can't help but smile when I'm here. When I'm home, even though it's not the most ideal place to live, is my ideal my ideal place to live.

I remember when my friends brought me back from school for winter break. They told me that they actually saw a physical difference in my mood from school too home.They said they could see a happier me that I apparently was not showing at school. They also were excited to see me drive. At school most who know me, know that I walk everywhere at any time. Whether it is to class,a friend's place,into town, whether it is freezing, snowing, raining, or whether it is 3 in the morning, 11 at night, or 6:27 am I'am walk. So when I started to drive at home they actually took pictures of me. Its funny how such a basic and mundane thing, driving, can turn into such a novelty that it is actually considered an accomplishment to see me drive.

It would be too easy and wrong too say that my family( this includes friends because they are family ) is the reason this is home and why I feel so good. I have a family down at school and they are beautiful. I'm not going to compare people up here with down there because that would be wrong. Seeing the family back home is an odd sensation because it is a mix of novelty, I haven't seen them in a long time, and an old familiarity that allows me to pass out on their couch without thinking twice. If you don't already know, I'm one to live in the past. My nectar is nostalgia and I bask in it whenever I get the chance. Home has a built in nostalgic factor that simply makes almost anything that happens here better. Coming home is like walking into a warm embrace that you know will always be there waiting.

I came home on a Saturday night. My brother and I drove through a lot of rain, stopped to visit some friends, and then drove through some more rain. Once back I got to say hi to mom and pops which was cool. Later I visited some friends. That night... morning I was laying in my own bed, so weird not being a couch, when I realized that my computer could be place on my desk next to my bed. Other words, I could lay in bed and be on the computer at the same time. Awesome. But after a few hours I noticed a storm had found me again. I decided to close my computer and listen to the storm. The soft pitter patter of the rain rolling across the house was soothing. As time passed the rain fell harder but would periodically dip back to a soft hum. Thunder punctuated the lovely sheet of rain with deep resonating echos that blended ever so wonderfully with the rain. Never too loud to take away from the rain, just a nice pinch of spice that lifted me like a wave and slowly brought me back into the ocean. It was a perfect way to begin my spring break. And while it's still relitavily fresh; The storm was a soft cradle song that would bring me into dream world though I would make the argument that coming home is a dream in of its self.

The next day I went to my friends house with a shop-vac. His basement partely flooded from the mornings storm (maybe it wasn't as pleasant as I rememberd it). So we sucked water out of the carpets and brushed water into a drain for a few hours and you know what? I was really enjoyed myself. What was infact tedious manul labor was, too me, one hell of a time. I can't really describe why I was having such a good time but its was beautiful. This also apllies to my mother yelling at me to get a hair cut and her attempting to wake me up before 12. Though they are extremly annoying and bothersome, there is something about them that make them ok. I don't like or really miss being yelled at but, its someting that has to be for it too be home.

Another great hope for me this break is the prospect of seeing a few of my friends that I haven't seen in a year, or in some cases a few years. Though I cherish seeing all my friends and try not too make any of them more important than the rest, seeing one of these people will be really rewarding. It's like seeing a relitave you were close too but haven't seen in a long time. I hope to see these people and remind them that it doesn't matter that I have't seen them in a long time, they will always be in my family. I know alot of what I'm writing probably sounds cheesey but I don't care. Family is everything and I truly miss them. They will, in esscene, be coming home.

I decided not to write this at the end of my break becasue I don't nessecarily want this blog to be a journal. I'm writing now because I think that this has more feeling and thought behind it than just a report of break. That and it is fresher in my mind. I do hope to see my good friends and just be home. It is beautiful when I don't have to do anything but there is things to do if I want to. For all my family back at school, I'll see you soon. I hope anyone who read this can think or feel what home is too you. Like I said, your house isn't your home, though in my case it is closely tied. Or if you got nothing from this, I'm sorry. That and for any bad English. So everyone, take care and enjoy your spring break whenever it may be. Stay safe.

P.S. Fire Monkey Dave was actaully in MY hosue!

~Love~