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--The Long Version--

Since I just got my stuff -- FINALLY -- from the ex-boyfriend's house, it occurs to me that my house is now feeling more like home. Not that it didn't feel like home before. Life with Aaron and the girls has been wonderful. But let me tell you something a lot of people don't realize when they first start talking to me.

I'm a country girl.

Yup. Grew up in the country. Little farming community in the thumb of Michigan. Full of migrant workers, hillbillies, and all the things you find in a small town.

... Which, by the way, is NOTHING.

So yeah, in talking to a lot of people here in the suburbs of Deeeeeeetroit, most of them just assume I'm from some suburb or another like them. Nope. At least, not until I say something like "Actually, I've never heard of Arbor Drugs," or "I don't know where I am," or "How far is that city that obviously everyone has heard of from here?" or -- and this is the best one -- the drawl comes out.

Yessir, I'm a Yankee with a drawl. Comes out particularly when I'm drinking, singing certain songs, or just outta nowhere. It's not nearly a Southern drawl, but it's certainly something that distinguishes rural upbringings from urban upbringings. I didn't meet a real live black person until I was 15, but that's another story for another time.

But I digress. Home. Yes. When I was growing up in the country, all I wanted was to live in the city. All the lights, sounds, people, things to do, places to see. I wanted all that. And the convenience. You don't know what you're missing until you realize that your town literally closes down at 10pm on weeknights, midnight on weekends, and 6pm on Sundays. The nearest movie theatre was at least a 30-40 minute drive from my parents' house. The nearest mall... the same. The nearest amusement park? ... We didn't go to amusement parks. That was a weekend affair. Art museum? Three hours. Airport? Three to four hours. I could drive to another country in the same amount of time it took to get to the movies. (Thanks, Canada!)

But what was there to do in the country? People I talk to from the city tell me all kinds of things, like camping, boating, being with nature, firing shotguns at woodland creatures...

--Insta-Digress--
The high school I went to? Yeah, we got the first day of deer-hunting season as a day off from school, since so many kids' parents would call them in that day. They just gave all of us the day off.
--Un-Dirgress--

However, people from the city don't seem to realize that when you grow up in the country, that's all you did for the first... um... 10-20 years of your life. Mostly because that's all there was. On the flip side, in talking to people around here, I'm all about going to art museums, movies, arcades... hell, I'd hang out in the airport if it weren't for the rules about not being allowed to hang out in airports anymore unless you're actually going somewhere. But yeah, they would tell me how they were tired of doing those things.

But I'm sure you're all wondering what this all has to do with home, right? Of course you're not. ^_^

So, ever since moving down to the city, I've been ecstatic, comfortable, happy... but it hasn't really felt like "home." Croswell was home. Port Huron was home. Hell, even New Baltimore was kinda home-y. But up until now, the city area wasn't what I would call "home."

Maybe it's me finally getting used to city life after four years. Maybe it's that I've finally found someone worth setting up a "home" with. Maybe I'm just an overly sentimental dork.

Probably the last one. But, after a long time of searching, I think I'm finally... home.

--The Short Version--

Home is where I make it. After four years, this country girl's finally found her home in the city.