This is funny in every way.
Funny ha-ha and funny weird.
However, Becca enjoys floating in a world of ignorance, because she was told how much ignorance is bliss. Bliss isn't life, but bliss is what she subconsciously clings to as steadfastly as geese flying south-only she's not sure of her destination.
Maybe destination hasn't anything to do with it, but she thinks it has everything to do with it.
Especially since her Celtic Knot is inching closer and closer to her neck each day; she is flirting with strangulation ever so dangerously. If she were a horse and Ireland a carrot, well, she'd be chasing the carrot, if that makes any sense. She's so desperately and helplessly in love with that country, and now the hope of going back is so thick and hot that she can't help but dissolve into it and live in her dream world for just a moment. Oh, for December the 26th to bring back those emerald fields and that icy-blue sky--those fluffy clouds and Irish eyes smiling. For her to see the freckles dance upon the noses of her Irish family...well. How theatrical. She will just have wait and see what miracles await her--she's certainly seen many.
However, Becca can't hardly handle those who call her family in America. This entire ordeal, brought on by those she had wondered about her whole life, is now left in her hands. Becca's entire future with these people depends on what she wishes to do, but really. After Charlie Brown closed, there wasn't much of an opportunity to see them. What to do now? Invite them to Fame? She thinks not. The spring play? Not sure they'd approve of little Lauren seeing that one, from what she heard.
Oh well. Time will tell, time heals, give her time.
For now, she'll cling to whatever she sees that is genuine.
Even as she walks through her dimly-lit home clad in holiday decor, the "Screw this, we're going to Jerusalem (or, respectively, Ireland)" attitude fades a bit. She's not sure why. Perhaps the cynic in her is shutting up, for once. How absolutely lovely!