mrsronweasley (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mrsronweasley) wrote2002-08-04 10:40 pm
mrsronweasley) wrote2002-08-04 10:40 pm
Back to...this place...
First off, you rock. My hat's off to you.
I am back from the haven that is Not Long Island. I have come to realize that where I'm living right now is Hell. Last night, I went out with my sister and her friends - a restaurant in the West Village. I stood there on the corner of Greenwich and Charles, and the building was built of red brick, the light was pale yellow and I belonged there. I belonged with the old frames arount the windows, the flower pots on the window sills, the people wearing things other than Gap clothes.
I never really appreciated any of it while I lived there, for that one year. Of course, I didn't expect to transfer so soon. I can't believe I didn't explore more, didn't experience more while I had the chance. And now I'm here. It's like a joke, it really is.
*sigh*
I shouldn't bitch. I never should have expected to last long on the amount of money I was supposed to pay. And no one owes me.
I have also come to realize that, even though I'm proud of where I come from, I don't know if I can relate to Russians anymore. They - we - have been raised with one too many hang-ups, raised to be too closed-minded. I miss home. But I don't miss the person I could have been had I stayed there. I like who I am now. I like that I can talk openly about issues that many others still find taboo. I like that I can write slash and love every second of it. I like that I swear like a sailor. I like that I'm an open person.
It's hard to reconcile those two worlds - the me now, and the responsibility to relate to my family. I guess I've grown up.
Huh. I guess this turned out to be a rather profound weekend...
Hmm.
I am back from the haven that is Not Long Island. I have come to realize that where I'm living right now is Hell. Last night, I went out with my sister and her friends - a restaurant in the West Village. I stood there on the corner of Greenwich and Charles, and the building was built of red brick, the light was pale yellow and I belonged there. I belonged with the old frames arount the windows, the flower pots on the window sills, the people wearing things other than Gap clothes.
I never really appreciated any of it while I lived there, for that one year. Of course, I didn't expect to transfer so soon. I can't believe I didn't explore more, didn't experience more while I had the chance. And now I'm here. It's like a joke, it really is.
*sigh*
I shouldn't bitch. I never should have expected to last long on the amount of money I was supposed to pay. And no one owes me.
I have also come to realize that, even though I'm proud of where I come from, I don't know if I can relate to Russians anymore. They - we - have been raised with one too many hang-ups, raised to be too closed-minded. I miss home. But I don't miss the person I could have been had I stayed there. I like who I am now. I like that I can talk openly about issues that many others still find taboo. I like that I can write slash and love every second of it. I like that I swear like a sailor. I like that I'm an open person.
It's hard to reconcile those two worlds - the me now, and the responsibility to relate to my family. I guess I've grown up.
Huh. I guess this turned out to be a rather profound weekend...
Hmm.