Home
I feel like writing about home and thought “what better place than the internet, a place I once felt was more home than the physical roof over my head?” And then, what better medium than the internet blog I abandon for months at a time, only to hastily write a post before disappearing once again.
Of course, it’s funny because I am *not* writing in the blog at all right now. I am writing in Microsoft Word because I only get 15 minutes of Lightlink internet every four hours or something. I suppose I could ask my boss for his password so I could have unlimited internet at work, but then would I really do anything during my “work free time.” Right now I read a good deal, watch a handful of movies and even sometimes write. If I had the capability to check email, browse Craigslist Missed Connections, or post inside jokes on my friends’ Facebook Walls would I do anything else? Is there supposed to be a comma before that “would?” I didn’t instinctively put one so, probably not since my use of grammar and mechanics seems based in blood and muscle memory rather than thought. It’s a long sentence. Well, onward just the same.
As I said, I’ve been thinking of home today. I’m sure it has something to do with the holidays and my complicated plans for driving to Georgia and then flying again a few weeks later for Christmas. There and back again. Again. But Home (with a capital “H” because it’s my subject - perhaps I should put it at the top of my paper and underline it twice for good measure) came to me while I was watching You’ve Got Mail. Netflix. It’s such a great movie. Oh, so very Austenian, which I guess they allude to with the talk of Pride and Prejudice although I never really picked up on that until recently. Anyway, there seems to be such a placement upheaval in the movie. Joe Fox moves out of his apartment with what’s-her-name to his boat. His father follows suit. Kathleen’s loses her store, a place she had worked at since she was little. In the end, though, we look past all this because our two characters find each other, somehow manage to look past the fact that one put the other out of business (not to mention lied with his double life wooing) and live together happily ever after.
Now I’m in You’ve Got Mail and I’m thinking about the movie, not really the point I wanted to get at, and whenever I do this in writing, rather than ignore it and stare at a blank screen I like to just keep typing, as if we were talking and I glazed over for a minute, looked across the room outside at the window, then looked back at you, laughed, apologized and said something witty before beginning to tread back to the topic. So I keep typing a short paragraph, like so, and then end it and begin afresh.
I am thinking of Home because right now I don’t feel as if I have one. And I don’t mean for that to sound depressive, like “Oh, I don’t have anyplace to go, blah-blah” because I do. It’s more of a feeling I lack, that sense of complete comfort and warmth that just seems to come with the word Home. I have many homes actually. My family has one in Georgia and one in Massachusetts and I rent an apartment in Ithaca. Or I could go over to my friends’ apartments in Ithaca. Those are homes. Or drive to others. Those are homes. I was sitting in my apartment today and felt an absence of Home. It was there but not there, probably the product of having all my things surrounding me (my blankets and pillows watching a movie I rented with my Netflix on my TV through my Xbox that was sitting on my entertainment center), but it still didn’t feel right.
Perhaps it has something to do with my age. At 22 I guess I’m supposed to be semi-nomadic, ready to move wherever there’s a new job or a romantic interest or just because it’s the It place to live. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing either. I’m almost positive I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in Ithaca, possibly not even the next year.
Or it could have something to do with time. I lived in my last apartment for two years, the longest I had lived anywhere for three years before that. It could just take more time to undo one attachment and build another.
Slightly off topic, I have been seeing dogs EVERYWHERE today, particularly retriever breeds, including in the movie, which makes me miss my dogs very much and wish that I could afford to have one. I actually have the time to have one too. I work 7-8 hours a day, but I come home every day for 2 hours while the restaurant closes since 2 hours is too long to sit at a nearby coffee shop or something, even if it would make more environmental sense for me to drive up here only once, or, better yet, walk. So it would be a perfect schedule for a dog. I could let him out and such every day during my break. Sadly no. When I’m thinking of cutting back on almost everything to save money, having to buy dog food and pay vet bills wouldn’t be very responsible, would it?
Anyway, just wondering what Home exactly is. Somehow, I have the feeling I won’t know for sure until it has passed, until it is something I can reflect on. It’s just the way I operate.
I’m also wondering if all of this was spurred not by the movie but instead by the fact that I knew I had to go to work and what I really wanted to do was take a nap, which then made me cranky.
Of course, it’s funny because I am *not* writing in the blog at all right now. I am writing in Microsoft Word because I only get 15 minutes of Lightlink internet every four hours or something. I suppose I could ask my boss for his password so I could have unlimited internet at work, but then would I really do anything during my “work free time.” Right now I read a good deal, watch a handful of movies and even sometimes write. If I had the capability to check email, browse Craigslist Missed Connections, or post inside jokes on my friends’ Facebook Walls would I do anything else? Is there supposed to be a comma before that “would?” I didn’t instinctively put one so, probably not since my use of grammar and mechanics seems based in blood and muscle memory rather than thought. It’s a long sentence. Well, onward just the same.
As I said, I’ve been thinking of home today. I’m sure it has something to do with the holidays and my complicated plans for driving to Georgia and then flying again a few weeks later for Christmas. There and back again. Again. But Home (with a capital “H” because it’s my subject - perhaps I should put it at the top of my paper and underline it twice for good measure) came to me while I was watching You’ve Got Mail. Netflix. It’s such a great movie. Oh, so very Austenian, which I guess they allude to with the talk of Pride and Prejudice although I never really picked up on that until recently. Anyway, there seems to be such a placement upheaval in the movie. Joe Fox moves out of his apartment with what’s-her-name to his boat. His father follows suit. Kathleen’s loses her store, a place she had worked at since she was little. In the end, though, we look past all this because our two characters find each other, somehow manage to look past the fact that one put the other out of business (not to mention lied with his double life wooing) and live together happily ever after.
Now I’m in You’ve Got Mail and I’m thinking about the movie, not really the point I wanted to get at, and whenever I do this in writing, rather than ignore it and stare at a blank screen I like to just keep typing, as if we were talking and I glazed over for a minute, looked across the room outside at the window, then looked back at you, laughed, apologized and said something witty before beginning to tread back to the topic. So I keep typing a short paragraph, like so, and then end it and begin afresh.
I am thinking of Home because right now I don’t feel as if I have one. And I don’t mean for that to sound depressive, like “Oh, I don’t have anyplace to go, blah-blah” because I do. It’s more of a feeling I lack, that sense of complete comfort and warmth that just seems to come with the word Home. I have many homes actually. My family has one in Georgia and one in Massachusetts and I rent an apartment in Ithaca. Or I could go over to my friends’ apartments in Ithaca. Those are homes. Or drive to others. Those are homes. I was sitting in my apartment today and felt an absence of Home. It was there but not there, probably the product of having all my things surrounding me (my blankets and pillows watching a movie I rented with my Netflix on my TV through my Xbox that was sitting on my entertainment center), but it still didn’t feel right.
Perhaps it has something to do with my age. At 22 I guess I’m supposed to be semi-nomadic, ready to move wherever there’s a new job or a romantic interest or just because it’s the It place to live. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing either. I’m almost positive I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in Ithaca, possibly not even the next year.
Or it could have something to do with time. I lived in my last apartment for two years, the longest I had lived anywhere for three years before that. It could just take more time to undo one attachment and build another.
Slightly off topic, I have been seeing dogs EVERYWHERE today, particularly retriever breeds, including in the movie, which makes me miss my dogs very much and wish that I could afford to have one. I actually have the time to have one too. I work 7-8 hours a day, but I come home every day for 2 hours while the restaurant closes since 2 hours is too long to sit at a nearby coffee shop or something, even if it would make more environmental sense for me to drive up here only once, or, better yet, walk. So it would be a perfect schedule for a dog. I could let him out and such every day during my break. Sadly no. When I’m thinking of cutting back on almost everything to save money, having to buy dog food and pay vet bills wouldn’t be very responsible, would it?
Anyway, just wondering what Home exactly is. Somehow, I have the feeling I won’t know for sure until it has passed, until it is something I can reflect on. It’s just the way I operate.
I’m also wondering if all of this was spurred not by the movie but instead by the fact that I knew I had to go to work and what I really wanted to do was take a nap, which then made me cranky.