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Home Sick with Martha Stewart

December 11, 2010

Yesterday after waking up I was feeling a bit home sick. After being away and not calling home for a while I tend to get a little antsy. A simple solution for the problem would have been picking up the phone, running through my contacts, and calling the first person related to me… booooring. That wasn’t going to work. I needed something a bit more adventurous. So I turned on the TV and went straight to one of those home cooking channels. How does that solve my problem, you ask? It doesn’t… But, I did learn how to make an awesome standing rib roast (now I just need enough money to be able to afford a rib roast). The rib roast show went off and then Martha Stewart thrusts her way into my television like a frustrated date.

Let me paint a picture for you… I’m laying in the center of my bed under about 10 pound of blanketing on a cold friday morning. My remote has been knocked off of my bed or night stand or what ever it was sitting on (I can’t quite remember). My TV is on the opposite side of the room and my arms aren’t quite long enough to reach anything that would aid me in my efforts to change the channel… I’m stuck. As much as I would like to get up, roll out of bed, and start my day with something other than Martha Stewart’s face; I would so much rather choose the option in which I’m not required to move. Thus, Martha is now a part of my life, and I am a much better person for knowing how to make home made jingle bell wreaths and kitchen sink cookies (god, I could taste the sarcasm in that one).

After an hour of Martha Madness the home sickness returned, OH NO! The only thing worse than being home sick is being car sick… and stomach aches… and pneumonia… and STD’s… and cancer… and pollen. Ok, being home sick isn’t all that bad but, it’s uncomfortable. This is my second year in school away from home and even though I’m only an hour an a half away, it’s still annoying to have to make that trip. There’s my solution! I packed a bag, hopped in the car, bought some gas, then jumped on the highway without a second thought. After about an hour and some change of drivng I arrive at home ready for all the suprised expressions, giant hugs, and hopefully a home cooked meal from Nanna. Ding dong goes the door bell when your son is home and, guess who’s there to answer… NO ONE! This plan sucks. I fumble around for my keys and finally get the door open and not even the dog comes to greet me. It turns out that my parent were in south carolina picking my sister up from school for winter break (acceptable), my grand parents were asleep (eh, acceptable), and my brother just flat out ignored me like a jehova’s witness (UNACCEPATABLE). My family loves me…

The longer I’m away from home the more I start to appreciate all the little thing I never notice when I was younger. The golden glow that fills the entire house in the late afternoon is almost too inviting. The peaceful music being played by the wind chimes could soothe even the most restless of souls. The warm wintery scent of soft cinnamon and oils dances around the house as the comforting nostalgia kisses my cheek and brings out an uninhibited smile. Home sweet home (two thumbs up for cliches). This is the part where I throw down my bags and announce my arrival by making rounds to everyone’s individual corner and interrupting whatever the hell they were doing that was so much more important than answering the door.

My parents eventually came home with my sister and one of her friends from school; we all hugged and kissed and had a merry time with having everyone home at the same time. My home sickness went away. Martha Stewart was run over by a reindeer. And, they all lived happily ever after. Moral of the story; go home and see your family… it’s not that hard (even if they ignore you when you ring the door bell).

Don’t stop Howling…
OhKami’s Voice

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