It’s weird, being home again in a place that doesn’t feel like home.

I’ve lived in this house since I was nine, but a year and a half after moving up to Chico, I feel like a guest any time I come home to visit. I’m sure it doesn’t help that usually I’m home for a week with no real purpose other than to be available to which ever of my family members deigns to spend any time with me.

I spend my time in the bedroom I grew up with, sitting in my old twin size bed, surrounded by the hodgepodge of furniture that I left behind, and feel like a stranger in a strange place.

I am home for Christmas break, and all I can think is, how many days until New Years Eve? How long until I can go back to Chico without my family being mad that I left town so soon, to spend time with the guy that until break, I’d spent every day and night with.

I feel vastly out of place in the house, in this town that until I moved away, was the only home I had ever had. I have lived in in three different suburbs of Sacramento, all so close together that they mesh as one large neighborhood where I knew where everything was. Now I come home and look around, comparing it to what I left behind in Chico.

How do you compare the suburbs that have emptied of all your friends, with a downtown where everyone is less than five minutes away? Compare having to drive to get anywhere to being able to walk anywhere safely? Compare the quiet to the bustle and beat of people out having a good time?

I am not a party girl, but I love that when I’m in Chico, I can walk to the bars, walk to the parties, walk anywhere and see anyone. I love that I will see more parked bikes than parked cars on any given day. That when I take my dog for a walk, I’m not the only one out.

Every time I come home to Sacramento, a city that I have loved my whole life and can’t help but to smile to myself as I wander around downtown, I have to remember that I am not a Sacramento girl. I’m a product of the suburbs. That even though the bus drops me downtown at 8th and K, it’s still another 20 minutes until I get home.

I had always wanted to live downtown when I was little, and now in Chico, I’m as close as you can get to downtown and not actually live in it. I love city life. I love that my apartment is the gathering point for all my friends, that any given day, at least two of them will stop by on their way to or from school. I love that our discussions have a sort of shorthand “I’m outside Holt…I’ll meet you by Glenn…We’re in the BMU.”

I love that my days have a pattern. Monday is football at Applebee’s. Tuesdays are movies with Am. Wednesdays I cook dinner. Friday is Rockband, Saturday a party somewhere, Sundays cookies with Ally.

When I come home, I have no plans. Nothing to do. A sister who wants to hang out, but then won’t pick up her phone for three days. I have no friends left in this town, no one I want to hang out with. You is working up in Crescent City, and he was the only one worthwhile left in this town.

So I’m home for Christmas. But I can’t wait to get back to Chico, to take the train to Redding and drive home with E, where we’ll spend New Years Eve with our friends, playing games and having fun.

Tagged: on Tuesday, December 23, 2008 · 1 Comment »