SCC Saturdays

For all their boredom, I rather like Saturdays around here. Well, actually, I like the meals on Saturdays. Not necessarily the food, but the meals. There's a special sense of comradery different than the normal weekday friendliness (or not always so friendly-ness). A kind of "we're stuck here together with nothing better to do so let's talk" mentatlity. Sort of. I'm not really sure that that makes sense. BUT that's ok! You guys know how to translate!

I suppose that I shouldn't just count on other people knowing exactly what I mean. I guess that I should try and start communicating like a normal human being. Although... if other people can figure out what I mean, what's the point? Perhaps I'm not as bad as I think I am. I doubt it though. I know that my siblings and sometimes you guys have had to translate for me. Hmmm. What is the point of this? I don't even know. I've forgotten. I got sidetracked. I did start out with a purpose. Wonder what it was...

I miss my family. It's actually an odd feeling. I was never homesick before this semester. Never. Not when I was puking up my guts in Europe, not when I was navigating D.C. alone for three weeks (which I know is not a big deal, but it was for me at the time; small town Alabama kid alone in the city, a real city, for the first time), not on 4-h trips when I was younger, not last semester. I did miss my family ocassionally, but mostly it was missing staying up talking to my sisters until 1 or 2 in the morning, missing talking to my mother, missing my little Danny-Boy (who is the only person in my life who ever called me Kitty, but he does. I still can't figure out why he does or how he came up with that. It's not like we know anyone else named Kitty. He's also the only person in the world that I tolerate calling me that), missing being able to comfort my little brothers who would cry when they talked to me sometimes. But I never actually wanted to go home. And soon.

Talking to my family only makes it worse. And the fact that I talked to my family after I talked to my aunt and uncle (Aunt Holly and Uncle Frank, the one who makes me salsa and salsa verde; I'll probably mention them again.) who were telling me about how everyone was going to come over there around two (three here). This week, though, everyone also includes Christina, who is home on Spring Break and R.C., who I do NOT dislike. Or hate. In fact, I miss him, too. I really want to go home.

It also doesn't help that all they talk about is how shaken up everyone is down there. While Enterprise is 40 miles from my 'town', it's not like 40 miles to somewhere from where you guys live. People from my town know people from Enterprise. Heck, I know one of the girls that died (not well, but enough [from youth group things and going to Mass at that church]to recognize her picture). People from Opp and Andalusia (the two towns I live between) go to Enterprise on a regular basis. We used to pass through it every Sunday. When my mother was D.R.E., we would go there at least once a month because she had a meeting there. I know people who live across the street from the highschool and others who live near there. And, as much as I hate Alabama, there is a kind of generosity in the people. So all the radio stations are taking calls from people who were in the school, who knew the kids, or who went and volunteered after the tornado hit and letting them just talk on the air.

One of the guys that died had actually made it out of the building. He went back, got a lot of other people out, and then a beam and concrete fell on his neck. The stories about him are amazing to listen to. Ten years and he was never seen without a smile on his face. So it's not an impersonal tragedy, everyone in the rural parts for miles around is affected. Not drastically or anything. But they are in some way affected. If they don't know someone who died, chances are that they know someone who was injured; there were 50 people who were taken to the hospital, 40 serious injuries. Considering that competitions are friendly rivalries, the kids from the schools in my area, probably know kids from that school. I mean, I was homeschooled and knew kids from that school from places other than church.

The last two are St. John's Catholic Church. The others are of the High School.

Back to my homesickness. (yes, I know, no segue [is that how you spell it?])I shouldn't be homesick. I saw my family two weeks ago. But I want to go home. And this is a very new feeling. And slightly depressing because I really don't have a home. I'll be sleeping in my sister's bed (which used to be mine...) and I'll be living out of a suitcase. I'm not sure which is worse: the desire to go home or the knowledge that home is not really home.