It is a very odd experience packing for home. I am not going straight home, but visiting certain important personages along the way, however the fact remains: I just packed a large bag to go home. Shouldn’t home be where all of my stuff is? Where I leave from, not go to? It seems distorted to consider how many pairs on pants I will need staying at home–it has never before seemed a temporary situation. I guess, like for the past 18 years, I have many homes. It’s just the ones my parents live in feel more home-y–have more history and background–than my current home at Carnegie Mellon. It feels even odder to package gifts to take home. Gosh, shouldn’t I be irresponsible and not buy them until too late? I am a college student. I guess I’m too late to do that either–I will make due with what I have (ya’ll will like it!). It will be interesting coming home, using a laundry machine with more than 6 buttons, not sharing the bathroom with 4 other girls, eating not-Underground spaghetti for dinner (truth to tell, I am terrifically glad I have another month *not* to eat Underground spaghetti) and of course seeing my family, whom I have missed greatly. I’m sure I will loose 1/2 of my readership in the next month, because as we all know, this blog is for my family, but that’s ok, because they’ll be getting to hear my stories first hand.
Seasons Greetings but really, happy Solstice–Winter is coming, but Spring is after that. Enjoy both!
“By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he’s wrong.” – Charles Wadsworth