loUiSiAna

That's the way Louisiana was written on the license plates when I was growing up. They've since changed it to a California-like-scripty font. But when I was in middle school? Louisiana=USA. Louisiana was my country.

It was a clever play on the word, it being so symmetrical and everything. I tip my hat to the designer.

And so I'm back in my little country, I'm back at home. Things are different; there is now wireless internet in the house that didn't have a color TV until I was in high school. And cable? Not a chance.

Now everything is modern and updated. The health club has a huge new pool with slides and 50 meter lanes and protein shakes and wheat chocolate chip cookies. My room is now part office for my mom, part painting studio for my sister. The cars? They've gone from a bright red VW Van to a silver Honda Accord. The floors are wood instead of carpet and the kitchen tile is gone. There's a new sun-room and the old tree house has been taken down. My dog is here but my cat that I got in 4th grade died last month.

But what could I expect? I moved out 10 years ago; things change. But the feeling of home? The assurance of complete comfort and ease? That's still here; that could never be altered.

It's not just my house or my family. It's being back where there are no hills to speak of and everyone takes at least 45 minutes to do their hair every morning. It's the restaurants with cream sauce on every item on the menu and the TCBY on the corner. It's the strip malls that make you smile out of familiarity instead of raging about the 'corporatization of America'.

It's all the things that I hated and loved growing up. It's everything I ran away from at age 15 and everything I long for when I'm gone. Most times I don't even know the difference between the two, and that's the best part.

I don't know how I feel about the Cajun Culture. On a practical level, I want to hate it, but honestly, I don't. There is something comforting about the beauty of it, even if it is a superficial beauty.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not sure what the hell I'm going to do with myself for 5 weeks here; I've already doubted my decision to stay here for the month of June. Within 24 hours of being home, I've already had that restless 'I have no idea what to do with myself' feeling. Somehow, it's not the same as being bored by myself in New Jersey. Here, I feel like a kid. I don't have my own apartment; I'm living with my parents and I tell them when I'm coming and going.

So no, it's not like being home is perfect or idealistic. Every situation has it's faults.

Regardless though, it's nice to be back. I'm not sure how long this gung-ho feeling of southern love will last, but for now it's nice to be here.

Southwestern Louisiana is where I grew up, it's where I'm from. I might not be the typical Southern Belle, but this is my home.