Oh JZ, how beautiful.
Jayne (Husband): Oh, I think you might wanna reconsider that last part. See, I married me a powerful ugly creature. Mal (Wife): How can you say that? How can you shame me in front of new people? Jayne (Husband): If I could make you purtier, I would. Mal (Wife): You are not the man I met a year ago.
'Our Mrs. Reynolds'
The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time...
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
Pix - May 03, 2005 4:52:46 pm PDT #1758 of 10001
We're all getting played with, babe. -Weird Barbie
Steph L. - May 03, 2005 4:53:49 pm PDT #1759 of 10001
the hardest to learn / was the least complicated
SailAweigh - May 03, 2005 5:09:11 pm PDT #1760 of 10001
Nana korobi, ya oki. (Fall down seven times, stand up eight.) ~Yuzuru Hanyu/Japanese proverb
Steph, have you read our stuff so far? Yea, but the definition of maudlin is inherent in the topic. It's a place we all long for, but can't go back to. Yet, we all have one whether we admit it or not. One thing moving around so much with the military taught me (and this may only be true for me) is that home is wherever I am. Like a turtle shell, I carry it with me.
dcp - May 03, 2005 6:06:38 pm PDT #1761 of 10001
The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know.
...home is wherever I am. Like a turtle shell, I carry it with me.
I missed Steph's post, but you're not the only one to feel that way, Sail. My family wasn't military, but I lived in twelve different locations before I left to go to college at 18, and I've lived in six others since.
SailAweigh - May 03, 2005 6:22:04 pm PDT #1762 of 10001
Nana korobi, ya oki. (Fall down seven times, stand up eight.) ~Yuzuru Hanyu/Japanese proverb
you're not the only one to feel that way, Sail. My family wasn't military, but I lived in twelve different locations before I left to go to college at 18, and I've lived in six others since.
I think it's a trick that people who move around a lot learn in self-defense. There is a tendency to want to put down roots and when you can't, you learn how to emulate an epiphyte with roots that can live in the air instead of the soil. Makes home easily transportable.
Beverly - May 03, 2005 8:48:57 pm PDT #1763 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.
I have to say it. I can't help myself: "His eyes slid down the front of her dress."
And that's all I'm going to say about that.
It's not just people who've moved a lot, guys. Except for fewer than five years, I've lived in the same house in the same town, and it doesn't feel like home to me, it feels like a trap.
Home is where I want it to be, if it's an RV for a couple of years, or a tiny apartment in a small city. Wherever my heart decides, that'll be home to me.
dcp - May 03, 2005 8:53:52 pm PDT #1764 of 10001
The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know.
His eyes slid down the front of her dress.
"That's beautiful. Or taken literally, incredibly gross."
deborah grabien - May 03, 2005 9:11:02 pm PDT #1765 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Vision of eyes falling out and slithering away on their own...
I missed Teppy's post, but I'm likely to be the exception. There's an angry pissy self-indulgent little thing about Erica Road taking shape in my head. It won't get written tonight, though.
I like JZ's. First sentence is a nice long convoluted sentence that worked the way they're supposed to work. It made me quite happy.
SailAweigh - May 04, 2005 2:24:38 am PDT #1766 of 10001
Nana korobi, ya oki. (Fall down seven times, stand up eight.) ~Yuzuru Hanyu/Japanese proverb
It's not just people who've moved a lot, guys. Except for fewer than five years, I've lived in the same house in the same town, and it doesn't feel like home to me, it feels like a trap.
I sympathize. I think this is where there has to be a number of different definitions of home. Home can be used to define the house you live in, the community you live in, the society you live in. You don't necessarily have to feel "at home" in all three (and you may have more definitions of home than that, it's a vaguely amorphous thing--home.) There's times I feel at home in only one of those at any one time. After the last election, I didn't feel like my society was "home" to me anymore. The feeling's starting to come back, but it was alienated for a while. Madison feels like home right now. Mainly because it's where most of my family is. That's not to say that feeling isn't like a pair of shoes that have worn down at the heels and make my feet hurt, but they're still a favorite pair that I'm loath to throw out because I walked so far in them and became who I am because of them. I keep them around out of nostalgia. Some day, I'll throw them out, probably the next time I move. My condo only vaguely feels like home. I've lived in "apartment" settings for so long, that it's hard to treat this place as permanent and allow myself to become attached to it. It'll probably only start to feel like home when I'm about to sell it. My family only felt like home to me as long as my mother was alive, she was our center, our soil. I feel like the family is withering on the vine, now. It's one of the reasons I've chosen to stay around Madison despite the fact the shoes aren't comfortable any more, I want to see if the soles can be replaced. I'm working on it.
Connie Neil - May 04, 2005 4:28:12 am PDT #1767 of 10001
brillig
what settled out of my head after several days contemplating the subject
My home of twenty years belongs to the landlord. At any time she could say, "30 days notice, I'm pulling the building down."
The dark hills of Pennsylvania hold part of my soul, but Home faded decades ago.
A house is a couple of bad months away from going back to a bank. The grave is yours--until a developer says, "We could just move them."
When I die, I'm going to the flames. My ashes will be scattered and my home will be the wind and the wide, great Earth. Take that away who can.