What will bring me home? What will make me stay, stay?

I'm in Nova Scotia now, after a long flight and a useless glass of wine. I got drunk last night and fell asleep talking to my sister. Music played in the background, chords and sounds that didn't belong in the room, music that floated out the window and tried to drag me with it. I hate it here already. I'm not home sick, I'm definitely not ready to leave, but I don't want to be here. Nothing here strikes a chord. I want to see some beaches or old houses.. something with substance. My patience level is plummeting, with my half-crazy grandmother breathing down my neck. Something here just isn't right. My Dad seems miserable, my sister, bored. Tomorrow we're going to Bridgewater to visit our great-grandmother, and I swear to God, I would slit throats for a bag of Island 'stuff'. Well, that's all for now, and that's pretty good considering there's nothing to tell. I miss home.