Ugh...

I wasn't going to talk about it any more because I didn't think it deserved any more energy and attention than it was already getting, but I GUESS I just can't help it. I guess I'm going through a phase of metamorphosis that must be played out. I am really starting to hate home.

*sigh*

It's like a long, lost lover or something. I'm starting to forget home's face. And all the things that were charming and seductive about it back during the period before we had to be separated have all sort of disappeared, leaving mostly ugliness. Before I get too abstract, let me explain...

I love love love Charlotte. I mean, of all the places I've lived, Charlotte feels like the most "home" to me. Well, felt. I'm a member of a networking site there and that's how I made most of my friends. When I left, I thought, "Eh, I won't even have to waste time making any French friends because I'll have all my online buddies to keep me company." And so far, it has been true. And for the most part, the friends that I cherished before I left are still just as precious.

However, I should have arranged to keep in touch with them in another forum or something. Because while there are HOARDES of cool people on this site, there are always a couple of people who ruin it for me. I'm sure these people are GREAT people in real life, but some of the shit they say really makes me not want to go home.

Now, I know that people don't always mean what they say on line and what you write/respond is sometimes so dependent on your mood at the moment you write it, but DUDE, if some of this shit is indicative or representative of even a percentage of the peeps back home, I'd just rather 1) not know or 2) never ever go home.

The most recent event is someone starting a discussion about how we shouldn't watch/listen to/read the news anymore because it turns us all into Debbie Downers. That sometimes, reality is just too negative and focusing on the negative is bad, so it's best not to even know what's going on. That way, my day won't be ruined and I can go along in my life with a smile on my face. I'll preface with the admission that the 24-hour news culture is a bit overboard. But avoiding awareness just for the sake of preserving your happy day just seems irresponsible to me.

I remember the morning of September 11, 2001 when I walked late into my morning class with a big smiley, smartass apology for being late. The instructor, who was sitting on the table with a grim expression, looked up and directly into my eyes. Everyone else turned to look at me, too. Their expressions blank. I said, "Okay, I'm sorry. It'll never happen again." The teacher ignored me and said, "So, I don't know when we'll have class again because I don't know if my brother is still alive." My goofy grin disappeared and my mouth dropped open. As the class dispersed, I was like, "What the hell is going on?" My Palestinian friend turned to me white-faced and said, "A plane flew into one of the towers of the World Trade Center in New York City."

Because I hadn't been informed, I was walking around with a goofy ass grin on my face... As positive as can be. It's true, I lived in a little world of positivity and the news of the attacks destroyed that... For a couple of days. I sat on the couch curled up watching CNN around the clock. I stopped going to class. I stopped eating. I stopped living. My new husband (from whom I had been separated for weeks as he was back in France selling our apartment and preparing to join me in the States) was scheduled to fly to the States on September 13 and into BOSTON, no less. Would he ever be allowed into the country? Would we go to war? If we did, would I be separated from my new husband? I was a wreck. Look what information had done to me.

But, I got over it. I survived it. My husband did arrive. And I did go to class (over and over and over and over and over again) and I got my degree. Life went on. And I was stronger for it. Would I have rather not heard about the attacks at all until things had blown over? Nah. I'm glad I got to be a part of the collective experience that taught me not to take ANYTHING for granted.

So, to hear people back home say that they are going to look the other way so that they can go merrily on their happy little way, makes me want to barf. Look, other than the past few days, I'm one hell of a positive person, I'd say about 95% of the time. I hear negative news and it touches me and instead of getting me down, it motivates me because I CHOOSE to let it. I don't look at news and go, "Oh, shit. The world is just one big scummy cess pool. I might as well croak now." And I don't look at it and worry on and on and on about things I can not affect. What I do is watch it, process it and think about ways I can be a part of the damn solution.

I'm starting to better understand why the rest of the world hates us so much. Because we are fat and selfish and greedy and stingy and wasteful and we're damn proud of it. We think it's God's Will for us to be that way. And we're obsessed with keeping a goofy ass smile on our face. With having a happy day. Problems elsewhere on the planet? Doesn't affect me! I live on my happy little island between two gigantic oceans. Give me a break!!! I'm embarrassed and ashamed.

And I'm sad. Because I want to love home. I want to hold on to my love affair. But home is not only irresponsible and proud of it, but home is also immature enough to say, "Huh. Oh well, guess I'll take my irresponsible ass into the kitchen and pour myself a cup of coffee."

I might stay here.