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my_lost_mind) wrote2012-07-28 11:00 pm
my_lost_mind) wrote2012-07-28 11:00 pm
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The long strange journey home
I was born in the midwest. I grew up in the midwest, but these are tales for another entry.
More than 12 years ago, I left this part of the country to journey across the country to the land that borders the sea. I don't recall much of the original journey except that it included driving a 1993 Geo Storm with 2 cats along for the ride. A somewhat noble, but eccentric knight drove the big metal box on wheels that contained a collection of household goods and other useful items, as well as a ton of useless sentimental crap that I am incapable of parting with.
This knight and I made a homestead in a place called Germantown, and made a genuine attempt at the whole "happily ever after" thing. I learned about this great and powerful force that was about to sweep across the country, this amazing invention known as The Internet. I bought my first domain name, and set up a web site where I could write pages of content that nobody would ever read. There was no Blogger back then.
A year later we moved across the river to another town and set up our household there, but somehow it just wasn't meant to be.
I schlepped my crap back across the river and settled into a commune, um.. I mean.. apartment building in a nice suburban community. I had a great job, some great friends, and was fairly happy where I was in my life at the time, but there was something missing.
I did manage to pick up 3 tattoos while I was living in this particular part of the country, but I was hungry for the elusive "something different". Well, this... and intelligent single guys.
To make a very long story short, in the first summer of the new century I packed all of my belongings into another large metal box on wheels, loaded my cats and myself into a 1997 Saturn, and we all made a merry trek to a very strange land. A land full of friendly blue people who lived in a world quite different from the land I came from. These folks were liberal.
I suppose I should mention that the kind fellow who drove the metal box on wheels was a conservative living in the land of the blue people, but he was a strange sort of conservative. The kind that drives a rental truck with no pants on (it was July after all).
This journey was the beginning of 12 years of what could best be described as a rickety carnival ride left to run while the operator ran off for a cigarette, and to hit on the biker babe and her drunk friend.
Within these 12 years I had my heart broken more times than a boxer's nose, changed jobs at least 3 times, had mono, bought a place (only to lose it in a bout of serious economic hardship), adopted a dog from a shelter (only to lose him to a heart attack 7 years later), got a few piercings, swam in the sea, went fishing in the sea, learned how to brew beer, started a new career, made ice cream using liquid nitrogen, bred tropical fish, broke my ankle falling down stairs, got drunk a lot, and met a large number of really interesting people, some of which I still consider dear friends.
My last 5 years in the land of the blue people was also full of bitterness, anger, depression, insomnia, and helplessness because I foolishly tried to rescue a small boy trapped in the body of an adult alcoholic with a personality disorder.
It took more than 2 years for me to save enough money, and wait for the stars to align and guide the way back to my home.
I had no ruby slippers, no fairy godmother, just my own maddening determination (and a sympathetic employer who allows me to telecommute) to return to the midwest. My kin are here, both the kin I adore and the kin I am not so fond of. The people here speak my language. Even though I am still a blue person and these folks are mostly red (some are more purple), they are still welcoming and friendly.
There's no place like home.
More than 12 years ago, I left this part of the country to journey across the country to the land that borders the sea. I don't recall much of the original journey except that it included driving a 1993 Geo Storm with 2 cats along for the ride. A somewhat noble, but eccentric knight drove the big metal box on wheels that contained a collection of household goods and other useful items, as well as a ton of useless sentimental crap that I am incapable of parting with.
This knight and I made a homestead in a place called Germantown, and made a genuine attempt at the whole "happily ever after" thing. I learned about this great and powerful force that was about to sweep across the country, this amazing invention known as The Internet. I bought my first domain name, and set up a web site where I could write pages of content that nobody would ever read. There was no Blogger back then.
A year later we moved across the river to another town and set up our household there, but somehow it just wasn't meant to be.
I schlepped my crap back across the river and settled into a commune, um.. I mean.. apartment building in a nice suburban community. I had a great job, some great friends, and was fairly happy where I was in my life at the time, but there was something missing.
I did manage to pick up 3 tattoos while I was living in this particular part of the country, but I was hungry for the elusive "something different". Well, this... and intelligent single guys.
To make a very long story short, in the first summer of the new century I packed all of my belongings into another large metal box on wheels, loaded my cats and myself into a 1997 Saturn, and we all made a merry trek to a very strange land. A land full of friendly blue people who lived in a world quite different from the land I came from. These folks were liberal.
I suppose I should mention that the kind fellow who drove the metal box on wheels was a conservative living in the land of the blue people, but he was a strange sort of conservative. The kind that drives a rental truck with no pants on (it was July after all).
This journey was the beginning of 12 years of what could best be described as a rickety carnival ride left to run while the operator ran off for a cigarette, and to hit on the biker babe and her drunk friend.
Within these 12 years I had my heart broken more times than a boxer's nose, changed jobs at least 3 times, had mono, bought a place (only to lose it in a bout of serious economic hardship), adopted a dog from a shelter (only to lose him to a heart attack 7 years later), got a few piercings, swam in the sea, went fishing in the sea, learned how to brew beer, started a new career, made ice cream using liquid nitrogen, bred tropical fish, broke my ankle falling down stairs, got drunk a lot, and met a large number of really interesting people, some of which I still consider dear friends.
My last 5 years in the land of the blue people was also full of bitterness, anger, depression, insomnia, and helplessness because I foolishly tried to rescue a small boy trapped in the body of an adult alcoholic with a personality disorder.
It took more than 2 years for me to save enough money, and wait for the stars to align and guide the way back to my home.
I had no ruby slippers, no fairy godmother, just my own maddening determination (and a sympathetic employer who allows me to telecommute) to return to the midwest. My kin are here, both the kin I adore and the kin I am not so fond of. The people here speak my language. Even though I am still a blue person and these folks are mostly red (some are more purple), they are still welcoming and friendly.
There's no place like home.