Somewhere out There...
So these have been an eventful few months.
I got back from my adventures overseas quite inspired. I was broke but life was good. I worked for Fun for about a month; doing part time work for them earned me over $100 more a paycheck than I made full time at Bob’s, so I was pretty cool with that.
However, things were not to remain the way they were. My parents had sold their house (which happened to be the house I was living in, having not quite achieved financial independence) and had until the end of September to get out so that the buyers could move in. It was advantageous of them to sell when they did, because we were friends with the buyer (therefore avoiding realtor’s fees) and in this market, if you’ve got an offer, you take it. The end. So, the house found itself sold, and I found myself (with my family) homeless. My parents were planning on buying a house in South Carolina, which they would eventually do, but at the time had no where to go. We packed everything up, but instead of staying around for the better part of the next month whilst my parents went house hunting in the south, I decided to take my leave of MA early (sad as it was to do) and go stay with me eldest sister out in the state of Indiana - where, apparently, it is summer until the winter.
On the subject of Indiana:
It is a very broad state. Things are set very far apart but in delightfully simple patterns so that it’s very hard to get lost. People move more slowly, drive more slowly, talk more slowly, and in general are just a little slower. It is 85 degrees in October. There are corn and soy fields everywhere. There are a ton of professional sports teams - you’re not allowed to like two teams from the same place. For example, you are not a Cubs and a White Sox fan - you are one or the other. I’d go so far as to say that if you like one team you hate the other. Sports are rather important out there (I mean, they are everywhere but even so); college football, especially. In MA we don’t have those crazy intense college followings because there are no gimungus schools, just a lot of not-so-gimungus ones, so it’s a big cultural difference. You can’t buy alcohol on Sunday (anywhere), so if there’s a game on Sunday you stock up on Saturday. Don’t go into a grocery store and try to get a 12-pack on a Sunday - they will not sell it to you. Trust me. There are not many trees, but then I was in a more industrial area, and there are bound to be fewer there. People are nice but not terribly talkative. Overall it was an interesting place to see, but not for someone like me to stay.
My sister’s house was great; staying with her and her boyfriend was really fun. We took some adventures out and about; my two favorite were a trip to Turkey Run National Park and then our foray to the Covered Bridge Festival. At Turkey Run we went along the trails and climbed down into a ravine (then climbed out way out, not quite as fun but very adventury!). The covered bridge festival was a giant outdoor sort of flea market - I think it wanted to be like the Big E (where I did actually go in September, I forgot all about it until just now) but it’s much more country-oriented. Fun time.
Alas, but my time in Indiana was short and sweet; soon enough I was beaconed back to Massachusetts where my services would be required to prepare and aid in the journey south. You see, my parents found a house in SC and were anxious to get into it to fix it up for the holidays.
There were several catches in this plan, however. The first was that my father had (and has) yet to get his transfer through the Post Office, meaning he has to keep working in MA or use his accumulated leave to be down here. Without that transfer, he cannot come down here to live. This created problem number two; they were planning on taking two vehicles with the dogs on the trip, and because my father has only just enough accumulated leave to come down for the holidays (because we don’t think the transfer will come through before the new year) he could not use that time to drive down and still have time to visit on the holidays. So what were they to do? Simple. Fly me back to MA and make me drive one of the cars down with them.
Now, at this point, though I didn’t ever say it to anyone (even to myself, really), I was going to end up in South Carolina. I did not want to go. I did not want to have anything to do with this place so far outside of my universe. However, I did not have a choice. Thanks to what has been a roller-coaster year for me (in about every way possible), I did not (and do not) have the means to live independently. Ergo, back to Massachusetts I flew to spend four last and far too short days at home.
When I left Indiana (at the end of October), the average temperature was about 55 in the day time. When I landed in Providence I don’t even think it was 40 degrees. The leaves were already browned and falling from the trees; I had missed the heart of autumn in New England. I lamented its loss, and prepared to enter into another summery season, as in a few days time I would be making the trip south.
On the subject of road trips:
Caravans are fun only when the people leading are sure of where they are going - and are right in their assertions. We spent nearly 4 hours on the first day undoing a wrong turn (literally, one wrong turn), which put us several hours behind for the second day of traveling. We both had two dogs in our vehicles, but luckily they were sedated, otherwise I’d have had 300 lbs. of panicked canine moving around in the back of the Jeep, and that would not have been very fun. Maps are fantastic, GPS devices are better. Especially when roads are not labeled. It snows in October in CT and PA. In fact, there were 6 or 8 inches of fresh snowfall all around Scranton PA; I was singing Christmas tunes because I was fairly confident I would not be seeing snow again in the near future. It was eerie. Driving at night in PA is a BAD IDEA. Not only are there hundreds of giant tracker-trailer trucks going all over the roads at break-neck speeds, there are just as many deer trying to kill you running around. It takes way too long to drive through the state. Do yourself a favor, take I-95 and avoid it altogether. If you can, however, drive through the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia. I have to say, with absolute honesty and awe, I have never seen a place as beautiful in my life. We drove through in the early morning hours, surrounded by mountains and their deep, dark valleys, watching rays of light cut through the old hills as the earth slowly spun. It was incredible. I mean it’s the sort of place where you expect fawns to frolic and faeries to dance on the dew-drops. It is beyond words to describe.
At that point, however, I had spent the better part of two days driving, and was quite ready to get to where the hell I was going. I was not amused by much after leaving the Valley, as nothing could really compare. After another 8 hour day in the car and several stops to insure that we had gas, water and electricity, we made our way… home. I use the word reluctantly because this place is still upside down. Kind of literally. They put down new floors as we painted the ceilings. We have no furniture except for two chairs, our beds and some end tables. My desk was destroyed in the packing process (a point which I rather resent considering it was PERFECT and I don’t think they’re made any more) and most of the rest of my possessions are still in boxes. I’ve been living out of a suitcase since I got here - it feels like forever since I’ve had a place to call mine.
On the subject of the new “home:”
It’s not all that bad. There are a few good points. I have a unicorn that frolics in the field that’s adjacent to our property. I’m not kidding; here’s an actual picture:
The second star to the right comes out just after sunset: click on the picture to make it bigger - you can see the stars better that way.
Trust me, though, it’s there. The view from my two acre front lawn (there’s another two in the back, actually) is of Mountains, though I’m not exactly sure what they call the Appalachians down here.
The earth itself is this deep red color, like it’s made out of burning, bleeding rock. The house itself isn’t that grand (technically it’s not even a house because it’s a pre-fabricated home put on a cement slab) but we’re working on the insides to make it livable. It’s on top of a huge hill so we’ve got open sky all around us:
All in all, it could have been worse.
This whole area has been subject to a terrible drought - I’d go so far as to say that everything looks down right crispy. Even the evil Kudzu (I think that’s how it’s spelled), a dastardly vine that overtakes entire landscapes is unhealthy and browned. The foliage is trying to peak, but the golds have come out mustard and the scarlet like brick. I’d call it beautiful but it’s so much more obviously tragic.
Even so, because it’s different I’m somewhat fascinated. I think that’s how I’ve kept my sanity until this point. I don’t want to be here, but at the moment here I am. I am doing my best to make the most of the situation, but it’s hard to get over the sort of up-rooted feeling I have along with this personal hatred that has greatly intensified thanks to my dependence on my family. I love them and I know that I am not the only person in this boat, but that doesn’t make it any more acceptable to me, despite that it has to be this way for now. I have plans to get away, but things have to fall into place in order for them to work… I hate waiting, but life, I’ve learned, is not about instant gratification. I suppose it makes those good moments in life all the more rewarding.
Still, it would help to have one sooner, rather than later.
Oh well. I think this entry is long enough. Suffice it to stay, I’m down here, south of the Mason-Dixon line (which has a little dinky sign to mark it, I learned), where you can get a tan in November and don’t have to get your car inspected. What a place to be.
Me
I got back from my adventures overseas quite inspired. I was broke but life was good. I worked for Fun for about a month; doing part time work for them earned me over $100 more a paycheck than I made full time at Bob’s, so I was pretty cool with that.
However, things were not to remain the way they were. My parents had sold their house (which happened to be the house I was living in, having not quite achieved financial independence) and had until the end of September to get out so that the buyers could move in. It was advantageous of them to sell when they did, because we were friends with the buyer (therefore avoiding realtor’s fees) and in this market, if you’ve got an offer, you take it. The end. So, the house found itself sold, and I found myself (with my family) homeless. My parents were planning on buying a house in South Carolina, which they would eventually do, but at the time had no where to go. We packed everything up, but instead of staying around for the better part of the next month whilst my parents went house hunting in the south, I decided to take my leave of MA early (sad as it was to do) and go stay with me eldest sister out in the state of Indiana - where, apparently, it is summer until the winter.
On the subject of Indiana:
It is a very broad state. Things are set very far apart but in delightfully simple patterns so that it’s very hard to get lost. People move more slowly, drive more slowly, talk more slowly, and in general are just a little slower. It is 85 degrees in October. There are corn and soy fields everywhere. There are a ton of professional sports teams - you’re not allowed to like two teams from the same place. For example, you are not a Cubs and a White Sox fan - you are one or the other. I’d go so far as to say that if you like one team you hate the other. Sports are rather important out there (I mean, they are everywhere but even so); college football, especially. In MA we don’t have those crazy intense college followings because there are no gimungus schools, just a lot of not-so-gimungus ones, so it’s a big cultural difference. You can’t buy alcohol on Sunday (anywhere), so if there’s a game on Sunday you stock up on Saturday. Don’t go into a grocery store and try to get a 12-pack on a Sunday - they will not sell it to you. Trust me. There are not many trees, but then I was in a more industrial area, and there are bound to be fewer there. People are nice but not terribly talkative. Overall it was an interesting place to see, but not for someone like me to stay.
My sister’s house was great; staying with her and her boyfriend was really fun. We took some adventures out and about; my two favorite were a trip to Turkey Run National Park and then our foray to the Covered Bridge Festival. At Turkey Run we went along the trails and climbed down into a ravine (then climbed out way out, not quite as fun but very adventury!). The covered bridge festival was a giant outdoor sort of flea market - I think it wanted to be like the Big E (where I did actually go in September, I forgot all about it until just now) but it’s much more country-oriented. Fun time.
Alas, but my time in Indiana was short and sweet; soon enough I was beaconed back to Massachusetts where my services would be required to prepare and aid in the journey south. You see, my parents found a house in SC and were anxious to get into it to fix it up for the holidays.
There were several catches in this plan, however. The first was that my father had (and has) yet to get his transfer through the Post Office, meaning he has to keep working in MA or use his accumulated leave to be down here. Without that transfer, he cannot come down here to live. This created problem number two; they were planning on taking two vehicles with the dogs on the trip, and because my father has only just enough accumulated leave to come down for the holidays (because we don’t think the transfer will come through before the new year) he could not use that time to drive down and still have time to visit on the holidays. So what were they to do? Simple. Fly me back to MA and make me drive one of the cars down with them.
Now, at this point, though I didn’t ever say it to anyone (even to myself, really), I was going to end up in South Carolina. I did not want to go. I did not want to have anything to do with this place so far outside of my universe. However, I did not have a choice. Thanks to what has been a roller-coaster year for me (in about every way possible), I did not (and do not) have the means to live independently. Ergo, back to Massachusetts I flew to spend four last and far too short days at home.
When I left Indiana (at the end of October), the average temperature was about 55 in the day time. When I landed in Providence I don’t even think it was 40 degrees. The leaves were already browned and falling from the trees; I had missed the heart of autumn in New England. I lamented its loss, and prepared to enter into another summery season, as in a few days time I would be making the trip south.
On the subject of road trips:
Caravans are fun only when the people leading are sure of where they are going - and are right in their assertions. We spent nearly 4 hours on the first day undoing a wrong turn (literally, one wrong turn), which put us several hours behind for the second day of traveling. We both had two dogs in our vehicles, but luckily they were sedated, otherwise I’d have had 300 lbs. of panicked canine moving around in the back of the Jeep, and that would not have been very fun. Maps are fantastic, GPS devices are better. Especially when roads are not labeled. It snows in October in CT and PA. In fact, there were 6 or 8 inches of fresh snowfall all around Scranton PA; I was singing Christmas tunes because I was fairly confident I would not be seeing snow again in the near future. It was eerie. Driving at night in PA is a BAD IDEA. Not only are there hundreds of giant tracker-trailer trucks going all over the roads at break-neck speeds, there are just as many deer trying to kill you running around. It takes way too long to drive through the state. Do yourself a favor, take I-95 and avoid it altogether. If you can, however, drive through the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia. I have to say, with absolute honesty and awe, I have never seen a place as beautiful in my life. We drove through in the early morning hours, surrounded by mountains and their deep, dark valleys, watching rays of light cut through the old hills as the earth slowly spun. It was incredible. I mean it’s the sort of place where you expect fawns to frolic and faeries to dance on the dew-drops. It is beyond words to describe.
At that point, however, I had spent the better part of two days driving, and was quite ready to get to where the hell I was going. I was not amused by much after leaving the Valley, as nothing could really compare. After another 8 hour day in the car and several stops to insure that we had gas, water and electricity, we made our way… home. I use the word reluctantly because this place is still upside down. Kind of literally. They put down new floors as we painted the ceilings. We have no furniture except for two chairs, our beds and some end tables. My desk was destroyed in the packing process (a point which I rather resent considering it was PERFECT and I don’t think they’re made any more) and most of the rest of my possessions are still in boxes. I’ve been living out of a suitcase since I got here - it feels like forever since I’ve had a place to call mine.
On the subject of the new “home:”
It’s not all that bad. There are a few good points. I have a unicorn that frolics in the field that’s adjacent to our property. I’m not kidding; here’s an actual picture:
The second star to the right comes out just after sunset: click on the picture to make it bigger - you can see the stars better that way.
Trust me, though, it’s there. The view from my two acre front lawn (there’s another two in the back, actually) is of Mountains, though I’m not exactly sure what they call the Appalachians down here.
The earth itself is this deep red color, like it’s made out of burning, bleeding rock. The house itself isn’t that grand (technically it’s not even a house because it’s a pre-fabricated home put on a cement slab) but we’re working on the insides to make it livable. It’s on top of a huge hill so we’ve got open sky all around us:
All in all, it could have been worse.
This whole area has been subject to a terrible drought - I’d go so far as to say that everything looks down right crispy. Even the evil Kudzu (I think that’s how it’s spelled), a dastardly vine that overtakes entire landscapes is unhealthy and browned. The foliage is trying to peak, but the golds have come out mustard and the scarlet like brick. I’d call it beautiful but it’s so much more obviously tragic.
Even so, because it’s different I’m somewhat fascinated. I think that’s how I’ve kept my sanity until this point. I don’t want to be here, but at the moment here I am. I am doing my best to make the most of the situation, but it’s hard to get over the sort of up-rooted feeling I have along with this personal hatred that has greatly intensified thanks to my dependence on my family. I love them and I know that I am not the only person in this boat, but that doesn’t make it any more acceptable to me, despite that it has to be this way for now. I have plans to get away, but things have to fall into place in order for them to work… I hate waiting, but life, I’ve learned, is not about instant gratification. I suppose it makes those good moments in life all the more rewarding.
Still, it would help to have one sooner, rather than later.
Oh well. I think this entry is long enough. Suffice it to stay, I’m down here, south of the Mason-Dixon line (which has a little dinky sign to mark it, I learned), where you can get a tan in November and don’t have to get your car inspected. What a place to be.
Me