My study abroad experience feels a little like living on the set of The Truman Show.

The city I'm staying in - Perth, Australia - seems almost utopian to me. Sunny days and blue skies are the year-round norm and its location is ideal -- just a short drive to the Indian Ocean.

My university's campus is gorgeous, with lush palm trees, an abundance of reflection pools and wild parrots, kookaburras and peacocks roving the campus. Everything seems affordable and the people couldn't be friendlier.

In fact, several of my international friends have made the decision to transfer here rather than go back to their home universities, and I admit the idea has crossed my mind. Which is why I'm so amused when some of the locals scrunch their noses and ask me, "But why would you choose Perth?" They're genuinely befuddled about the appeal of their city.

But when I start to rave to them about all of the amenities the area offers, a light bulb seems to go off. "Huh," I've heard more than once. "I guess I've never really thought about it that way."

Sometimes it's hard to appreciate the things we've grown up with -- the things that are so easy to take for granted. It turns out that I'm guilty of this myself. One of my Australian friends is planning a trip to America next year. Her current goal -- no joke -- is to come to America to get a job in an Outback Steakhouse before she goes to grad school. "I'm going to find one in Pennsylvania and work there so I can live near you," she announced. I scrunched my nose. "Don't bother."

I've lived in Pennsylvania for 20 years, I told her, and that's 20 too many.

The winters are too cold, I explained. There's not enough culture. The politics are backward. There's too much racism, sexism and homophobia. You really should choose a better place to live, I advised her.

And as soon as I rattled off my response, I realized I sounded exactly like the Perth residents who puzzle me with their negativity about their city. And I don't want to be the kind of person who is blind to the innate appeal of her own home.

So the next day, I made a mental list of all the things I love about Pennsylvania -- the things that were so easy for me to take for granted until I spent a few months in another country. Pennsylvania has two bustling cities and lots of charming small towns in between, all within a reasonable driving distance.

Our stores are routinely open past 5 p.m. and on Sundays. We get to celebrate Halloween and Thanksgiving. Our autumn leaves are gorgeous. We have football -- real, American football. We have lots of radio and television stations. Having spent a few months missing out on these things, I know better than to take them for granted anymore.

And when I come home next month, I'm going to find new things to appreciate about Pennsylvania. Studying abroad has taught me the value of living every day like a tourist, always trying to squeeze the most experiences out of any given place.

I realize that there's so much I haven't done yet in Pennsylvania, and I'm making a mental to-do list for when I come back: have a picnic on Mt. Nittany; take a day trip into Amish country to buy homemade jam; visit Lake Erie; go to more obscure local concerts; tour a Centre County winery.

I still know Pennsylvania isn't quite right for me -- travelling has taught me that there are other parts of the world that will be a better fit -- but that doesn't mean that I won't enjoy the time I have left in my home state.

I'll return home with a new way of seeing things -- with a more complete, more thorough and more appreciative view of whatever place I'm making my home. Or, as my mother perpetually advises me, I'll "bloom where I'm planted."