November 11, 2010
There are days when I am so homesick for California I feel as though I will snap in two from the force of emotions. I’m not so sure it’s the people I miss (though I do miss my brother and his family, and my Robin “PHO!”) as much as it is the familiararity. The feeling of acceptance. A comfort zone, if you will.
The south, at least where I reside, is a hard nut to crack. We live in a Naval town and also a place where people have lived their whole lives. They develop social circles where you dare not attempt to cross the line or you will face contempt which knows no bounds. Bless their hearts.
We have Military vs. Non-Military, Black’s vs Whites, Baptists vs any other religion (does your Bible thump?), and many women who do work outside the home are constantly slammed up against the Good Ole Boy network and sent scurrying on our way, wiping our hands on our aprons as we go, as if we should know and agree with “our place.”
Despite all of that, I (actually my whole family) really love living here. We’ve managed to carve a little niche out and the girls have made plenty of friends. I guess it’s much easier when you are young because your friends have no preconceived notions about how things should be.
Most days, things don’t bother me. I can let them slide off of my back much like the jello slides off of my spoon and on to my shirt. Some days, I can’t ignore it.
Some days I have to fight it.