Thomas Wolfe says You Can't Go Home Again

I concur. You can go to the physical place, but being human, being changeable, skews the perception we have of our old hometowns. I should know, I just came back to mine.

The difference dwindles down to the house I grew up in even. My parents recently remodeled it, trading a bedroom for a walk-in closet and an additional bathroom. They removed walls, closets, shrunk bathrubs...all in effort to make the house more livable to them. They'd already lived in it for 30 years, one would think that with their three daughters gone, they'd have enough room. I suppose that sounds catty, and it is, but it isn't meant to be so. I see that as the truth, but I don't begrudge my parents the remodel In fact I think it was a good thing for them to do. They moved laundry facilities up stairs, added a comfort height toliet and a large shower. It is now a house they can grow old in. The problem is, I didn't really figure into the remodel and now I'm here, tucked in the corner bedroom away from the world with my room darkening shades. I used to like caves growing up, but hell, I just moved back up here from Florida. I'm going to need my sunlight.

The third person in the living room invariably gets a neck ache from watching tv. If they have the tv on while we're eating dinner, my spot is the one with my back to the TV. My bathroom has the narrow tub and pedestle sink with no surface space for my things. This is a temporary life for me, and I know that, but how can I get started on changing my life, on finding the permanence of myself when my environment is so temporary? I don't know yet. (I'd like to add that my mom always offers to switch spots with me, is willing to buy me organizers and things to make my life easier. I am not being overlooked, I just don't know if I want this sort of money invested in something that is temporary.)

Last weekend I went out with a friend to some of the old haunts in my old stomping ground. What did I discover? I discovered I'm no fun anymore. I had two beers, at least as much water, and went to three bars. I didn't feel confident enough to walk the mile through downtown to the bars from my friend's house so I drove. Since I drove, I didn't drink much. How responsible of me. How mature of me. How unlike my old self of me. My friend even commented on my restraint. Granted when we'd hung out in this town I'd still been in highschool, but regardless... I'm a different person now. I just don't know who that person is yet.

Part of me feared coming back to my hometown. Part of me feared I'd become the person I was. Hell, it'd be nice to be that person again. I feel selfish now, but then I WAS selfish, for sure... or rather self centered, but most teens are. I was wrapped up in my own little world with my own little cares about my own little drama. Now I have bigger cares, bigger drama and the same amount of space to hold it all. If I couldn't manage it then, what am I to do now?

I have a lot of questions, but very few answers, another difference between the two mes of my hometown. The know-it-all teen and the know nothing divorcee.

There are good things about coming home though. I'm learning things again. I learned things before, but... well I'll just come out and say it, I think my Dad is the smartest guy on the planet and that he knows just about everything, at least when it comes to science. So we have dicussions and I ask questions, kind of like when I was younger. I finally understand how barometric pressure works in predicting weather. I REALLY get it, not just a memorized answer to a test question. I get how tornadoes are formed. We discuss things and crack jokes with each other, most inappropriate ones my mother doesn't approve of, which is why we probably do it. This makes me happy you see. I haven't lost all of the person I was. I still have some things I recognize in myself.

On the writing front, things are progressing at a snails pace, but that it just fine with me. I'd love to be done with book 2, but for what? Just to start book 3? The writing process for me is never really over, especially for Sam's series... there's always more of the story told, and with the finish of one book, the urge to tell more becomes stronger, so any pace is a good one, the stories will be told regardless.

I found a great writing group. One that actually has novelists a part of it. I have no problems with poetry, but I'm not looking for a group of poets to revise my work. I'm seeking novelists who I can lay my work bare to and get honest feedback. I think I've found the group and am quite excited about it.

I also went to an SCA meeting, a medieval reenactment group. The people there were quite welcoming and I look forward to going back, unfortunately the next SCA meeting is the same as the writers meeting. I'm picking the writers group. The SCA meet every monday and the writers group meets twice a month, once on a monday, once on a wednesday. I want to nuture the connections I made at the SCA group, but writing is important to me and I'll have three other mondays a month to get to know the SCA people better.

There's a little update on me and my life. I know I don't blog often, and I'm sorry for that. I don't know what the future holds so I will make no promises in this regard, but know that I am not giving up on blogging. And drop some comments once in awhile will ya people?

This video... well... LOL cheesy but fitting. (I don't blame you if you don't watch it, hell I couldn't make it through most of it and I was multitasking.)