Things I Like About Napoleon

Went to New York recently, and was fortunate enough to see 13: The Musical. A bunch of talented young people, singing about the woes of middle school. I think everyone hated seventh grade; I know I did. Girls were cutthroat, and we were all so utterly awkward. The majority of the plot happens to be set in Appleton, Indiana. Check out these lyrics to "The Lamest Place in the World."

Down the road there's a Dairy Queen

Up the block there's a Wal-Mart

There's a place you can accessorize your pets

A school, a tree, a couple of churches

And no matter how hard anybody searches

That's about as thrilling as this dumb-ass village gets

It's the lamest place in the world

But it just got a little bit better...

I couldn't help but smirk at the Napoleon irony. I think, more than ever, I am enjoying my winter break in Napoleon; it only took four years to get to this point! I have gone from downright hating it, to making cracks about it, to being depressed about it, to near acceptance. It's easy to look at the Christmas season as nostalgic, and see your life not match up to the movies. I can see myself looking into the window of a happy family on a picturesque wintry evening, like Kevin from Home Alone, seeing all the differences rather than the blessings. Our lives aren't completely choreographed, and I am thankful. I am thankful for all of the quirks, and inside jokes, and even thankful for Napoleon. Who knows if I would appreciate the opportunities I have, if I would have grown up somewhere else. Every opportunity seems exotic and special, and Napoleon is the perfect reminder of that.

Here are a few things I have thought about, since I have been here this week, things that I love about Napoleon:

—Walking into the smell of the house you grew up in

—Feeling tall at the bathroom sink

—Lipstick stains on the bedroom carpet, immortalizing fourth grade

—No expectations; wear a t-shirt and jeans, and you're one of the group.

—Driving on ground so flat, Columbus would be convinced, for miles and miles

—The broad sunsets.

—The sun on a field of morning snow.

—Dumb birds who haven't migrated at the bird feeder.

—The 40 minute drive to Toledo, perfect amount of time to sleep or think.

—Pitch. Black. Night. Who knew that a street without streetlights could be so peaceful. 

—Cats curled up ontop of recycled newspapers, purring at an opened door.

—Stumbling upon memories, people re-earthed.

—WNDH. And the harum of old people who listen to it all day.

—A bedroom closet that holds doll clothes and years-worth of craft supplies.

—Knowing all the people in line with you at the post office, and ooh-ing because you have a letter for Switzerland

—Being identified as Janet Sigg's daughter at the bank

—Never having to fill out a deposit slip

—Smiles from people at church, just happy that you're home

Home Sweet Napoleon.