Home and Garden State

Garden State was shown recently as part of the Jameson Irish Film Festival. Being a fan of Scrubs, I was curious. Having briefly read a few good reviews on the web, I went to see it.

It is a very good film, well worth seeing. I would especially recommend it to people in their late twenties.

Garden State is not the point of this post however.

In one scene, the lead character talks about home. He quietly acknowledges that he no longer has one. The house he grew up in is no longer his home, merely a building full of memories.

That really hit me. I was experiencing something similar.

Just before the Christmas, my sister got engaged. Inevitably, there was a party in our local pub. I came down for it (my first trip to Longford for quite a few months) and as I looked around Gallagher's, I felt sad. I was a stranger in my own village.

Apart from some cousins, and one old friend, there was nobody I had any desire to talk to. This was not elitism, but detachment. I simply had nothing to say.

My college friends did not help. The Author and the Chameleon were meeting ladies that night in the Big Smoke. Sam proceed to inform me of a blind date I had the following Monday.

But that is another story for perhaps another post.

It was a very unusual feeling - one I never expected.

Make no mistake, I thoroughly enjoyed the party. My family are great and I never see enough of them. At one point, my two cousins (all of fourteen years of age) took pity on my single status and gave me some tips for pulling girls. It was brilliant.

On top of all this, my sister was betrothed, we were getting older, and I no longer had a place to call home.

Quite the evening.