While the rest of Happy Valley was welcoming back alumni and friends for Arts Fest weekend, I was headed home.

Home is a small town 50 miles south of Pittsburgh and the occasion was my sister's high school graduation party on Saturday.

I was really excited to go home and eat my weight in food. I mean come on, there was a table completely devoted to cookies - hence the name "The Cookie Table" - and my aunt transported a three-tiered graduation cake from Ohio. It was gorgeous. And then I ate it all.

It's not the Prah family way to have parties catered. Usually a party includes roasting chickens all day with Hungarian paprika and lots and lots of garlic. However, this time, considering the size of this shindig, it was time to call in the caterers.

Our backyard looked like a circus - two tents, tables and chairs, and of course, the volleyball net.

Now, when I assembled this volleyball net, I thought at the most, it would be used by my sister, her friends and our multitude of cousins. WRONG.

This volleyball net became a battle ground.

Once my aunts and uncles had their fill, they suckered us into volleying with them. This was not a good idea in any way.

They don't get this excited when they argue about the Steelers and the Browns. In an overzealous spike, my uncle jumped into the air, missed, fell to the ground and ripped his shirt from armpit to hem. My sister had two bloody knees by the end of the game, we lost the ball in the woods five times because my aunt doesn't have a sense of direction and there was almost a sibling brawl in mid court after the back row wouldn't pinch up.

And then we stopped and ate again.

Come Sunday morning, I was not ready to come back to school, no matter how many times I told all my relatives how much I love Penn State (and I really do). I met cousins and played with babies I had never seen before. I sat at a table with a tablecloth and ate with family instead of sitting here at this computer desk shoveling in pizza or some other eatery. It was nice.

But it is nice to come back to a place where you can contemplate what would happen if a lion's vocal cords were transplanted into a human, (seriously, just think about it) and not get sideways glances.

So since I can't be home sweet home, I'll be happy at my home away from home. Designin' yo pages, savin' yo lives.

- Erin