Slappy Barfday to me
I can't believe it's been 2 weeks since I last posted; things have been mighty busy with a mobile youngun round the house. I was thoughtfully remembered, too: lovely earrings from a wonderful husband (still replacing stuff that was stolen in Belgium, but I'm not bitter), beautiful flowers as well as tomates farcies from the in-laws so I didn't have to cook (MIL makes a mean stuffed tomato), and the coveted rainjacket I'd been eyeing back in VA (Mom, how did you remember?) and new bobbins for my sewing machine. Also special to me were the e-mails from my friends -- thanks for all the best wishes! I am certainly a lucky girl.
I do want to mention my small identity crisis that I too briefly mentioned in my last post, since I've had some nice comments and letters from friends. The sadness has gone with the jet lag, but I still have to say that for the first time, it seemed like a lot had changed when I went back for a visit. Even in Japan, I always felt that I had just left for the weekend once I got back to Virginia. It's obvious that life goes on without me, but I really sensed it this time. Maybe the threshhold to notice this is 3 years, or maybe it's the fact that I had a baby in a foreign country and Lord knows that is definitely an experience for any body to go through. Maybe the change is on my side, and that's a little unsettling.
It's not that I don't feel as strongly attached to family and friends because that I certainly do, as is evidenced by the fact that home now refers to two places for me (so I'll have to make it clear via context which one I'm talking about). It's more that I found myself in public places having to look around to see what other people were doing because I couldn't remember. I'm used to looking like an idiot in France and expect it, seeing as I wasn't born here and the new rules are now, well, new, but I wasn't prepared to be openly mocked by teenage girls in heavy makeup while I was clumsily attempting to pay for my groceries by credit card at the hometown store (although karma was clearly on my side in the US and whacked them with her heavy stick once we all made it to the parking lot. Hope your car battery wasn't dead, my dearies). It was a bit unnerving to have to watch others in the place that I've lived most of my life because I'd forgotten how to do these piddly small things. It seemed to happen on a small level each time I left the house, and by the time I felt like I had things straight it was time to leave again. My mother would tell me not to sweat the small stuff, so I won't. On the bright side, I can still order a gingerbread latte at Barnes and Noble without breaking a sweat.
It's nap time for someone who has kindly been playing pat-a-cake with herself long enough to let me type the last few sentences, so this will have to end without any real conclusion. Who has time to conclude these days, anyway...
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Slappy Barfday to me
Posted by Pardon My French at 9:42 AM