Fluffy Bunnies

This post is not about fluffy bunnies. I just like the sound of that better than what I should call it, so I'm sticking with 'Fluffy Bunnies.'

See? Much better.

I think I might be homesick. After looking up the actual definition of 'homesick', I'm still not sure if I really am. I think of homesickness as missing family and friends from home and being so sad about it that you just want to cry. I don't want to cry. And sure, I miss people in the USA, but for me, being homesick is more about missing 'normal' western things than people, at least so far.

Getting my message out of my chaotic head and into the world seems to help, so if you are homesick too, I encourage you to stop reading.

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I just miss being able to ask someone a question without acting it out or using just one word.

I miss American food. More specifically, one plate filled with lots of yummy stuff like a main dish and some sides and a proper fork to eat it with.

I miss being able to make small talk with someone in line at the grocery store.

I miss driving.

I miss being able to read the cooking directions on a package of food.

I miss eating food that doesn't come out of a package.

I miss having an oven, even a toaster oven. On top of that, I miss having a microwave.

I miss being able to look at something and instantly know what it says, including what it means.

I miss turning on the tv and knowing it will be in english instead of hoping there's a show on in english, and then hoping it's a show worth watching.

I miss proper shopping without someone following me around the store and thinking I want to buy everything I touch.

I want to go into a clothes store and know something will fit, instead of being laughed at and turned away because nothing will fit.

I miss having a proper shower and not having to hold the sprayer with one hand the entire time.

I miss having a clothes dryer.

I miss being able to communicate with anyone in the simplest of ways, like saying 'hello' and 'goodbye' without having to first think of how to say it.

I miss a comfortable bed that I can't unzip and see the springs.

I miss cookies that aren't pretty but I know they taste good.

I miss being able to hop in my car and drive 60 miles to the beach whenever I want and not being looked at funny because I want to go in a month other than August.

I miss being able to go into a place and knowing what to expect.

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My sister and Amy are coming for a few hours this Sunday, so hopefully that will quash my feelings of homesickness, at least for a little while. I'm coming up on my eight-month anniversary of living in Korea, so I've only got four months to go until I go home for a few weeks in the spring. I love Korea, don't get me wrong. I'm happy here and life is virtually stress-free, and it's quite obvious to me that I belong here, at least for the next few years. It's what I've needed in my life for the past 20-odd years. But homesickness is a part of living in a foreign country, especially one as different from my native country as Korea is, and I feel it climbing the stairs of my apartment building preparing to knock on my door.