Homesickness? No. Catsickness? Yes!

      I get asked alot, by friends here and back in the States, whether I am homesick. They always seem a little disappointed when I say no. Or, they don’t believe me. But, really, I don’t get homesick... I have been leaving ‘home’ (we’ll get to the definition of this word in a moment) since 3rd grade Girl Scout camp and while I do have memories of crying myself to sleep, surrounded by strangers, they date back to an era when my age was a single digit. I think this is aided by the fact that ‘home’ is a pretty plastic term to me. Right now, I consider my ‘home’ Bangkok Living Apartments. Had one asked me the same question 3 months ago, I would have answered my home in Macon. I understand that some people associate home with their folk’s house, in many nostalgic ways I do too, but having a ‘home’ that is mine and that I can find retreat in on a daily basis is an intrinsic factor for my happiness and, frankly, I haven’t legitimately lived at my parents house for quite some time (they would agree with this statement, by the way). I associate ‘home’ with where-ever I have set up shop for more than a 2-3week stay.    So, being ‘homesick’ in my situation just simply doesn’t apply.

  Do I miss people? Sure, on many levels, yes. But I nurture and maintain my closest relationships on a day-to-day basis thanks to the wonders of Skype and email. I even keep in touch with the masses via Facebook. Certainly, there are times when I wish I could teleport myself into my parent’s living room for a face-face chat and hug or that I could momentarily appear in Macon for a cuddle on the couch with Jimmy. But, those moments are fleeting and acknowledged fantasy, the same way someone says “Gosh, I wish I were on a beach in Jamaica right now” while sitting in their office cubicle. There is some yearning there but it comes full-acknowledgement that the idea is a momentary fancy. Maybe I am too much of a realist, but I have accepted the fact that I am here, they are there, and for the moment we make do with the lines of communication that are available to us. 

  All this being said, I miss my cat. Like crazy. That is one relationship that Skype does nothing for. Interaction with a pet is so, completely different than interaction with people. Ghandi and I had a rhythm going in our life before. We talked via neck scratches, purrs, fetch-sessions, yowls, cuddle-time, paw-placement, and a host of other ways that are difficult to put into words. I swear, that cat and I have a telepathic connection... if such a thing exists. He knows when I am blue, sick, excited, worried, anxious, relaxed, sleepy. You name the emotion, he has a feline response. All of these things are simply not replicable via any form of communication I have at my disposal. In fact, they can’t be had without direct interaction... something that is entirely impossible at the moment. Sure, I see fleeting pictures of him complements of my parents web-cam but if I coo, click, or call to him in our usual ways he scampers to the window and waits for me to come into view. Breaks my heart. All I can do is hope that by making a fool of myself through cat-talk and cooing over Skype that he won’t forget me. Keep your fingers crossed.