Kentucky- First View
And so here I am.
I saw my mom off on her way and like usual our departure was a fair balance of onset nostalgia and anxietal relief. I am sure many mother/daughter duos suffer similar battles.
I am alone in Louisville- the first time in my life I have actually been alone. As of yesterday there is no one within a 300 mile radius who knows my name or knows me as a familiar. This is oddly comforting. I enjoy my miniscule “efficiency” apartment which I have designed as Bateman-minimalist Chic. Something pulls together all these elements for me: the exposed pipes, the odd choice of no furniture save for 2 blow up beds and 2 laptops, the yellow and white check bathroom tiles, the trash chute straight out of a CSI episode, the air unit that sticks out of the wall like a cheap motel room and the single solitary window that never fails to light up the entire place. I am fascinated by the peep hole in my apartment door that has a contraption in which you flick a switch and a slide swings open to view out the extreme fishhole lens at whoever may be lurking at your front door.
The constant barrage of text messages asking me how I feel being by myself tells me I should feel the loneliness ache but I don’t. I feel anxious perhaps. My stuff has yet to arrive with no sign of an ETA. A little lost is probably how I would say I feel without my books, art supplies and sewing machine to keep me company. I am a child locked in my room without my toys. Let’s not even discuss that it will still be at least a week without internet.
I won’t mention the main differences between home and home for anything so obvious lacks the sophistication to be important (Fine, one thing must be said, and that is everyone walks around dressed like they are going to mow someone’s damn lawn). It is the other things that intrigue me. For instance, it is boring to say that Arizona is brighter than Kentucky but due to this an actual intriguing observation arose to me that Phoenicians absent-midedly put on sunglasses before going outside, ALWAYS. Arizonans have sunglasses everywhere and by God, I have yet to see anyone wearing sunglasses here but me. Nobody wears sunglasses, nobody drives trucks or jeeps, there is no recycling green movement, women belch, gentleman say ma’am and open doors, customer service is hardly caring and everyone dresses up for church on Sunday.
I saw my mom off on her way and like usual our departure was a fair balance of onset nostalgia and anxietal relief. I am sure many mother/daughter duos suffer similar battles.
I am alone in Louisville- the first time in my life I have actually been alone. As of yesterday there is no one within a 300 mile radius who knows my name or knows me as a familiar. This is oddly comforting. I enjoy my miniscule “efficiency” apartment which I have designed as Bateman-minimalist Chic. Something pulls together all these elements for me: the exposed pipes, the odd choice of no furniture save for 2 blow up beds and 2 laptops, the yellow and white check bathroom tiles, the trash chute straight out of a CSI episode, the air unit that sticks out of the wall like a cheap motel room and the single solitary window that never fails to light up the entire place. I am fascinated by the peep hole in my apartment door that has a contraption in which you flick a switch and a slide swings open to view out the extreme fishhole lens at whoever may be lurking at your front door.
The constant barrage of text messages asking me how I feel being by myself tells me I should feel the loneliness ache but I don’t. I feel anxious perhaps. My stuff has yet to arrive with no sign of an ETA. A little lost is probably how I would say I feel without my books, art supplies and sewing machine to keep me company. I am a child locked in my room without my toys. Let’s not even discuss that it will still be at least a week without internet.
I won’t mention the main differences between home and home for anything so obvious lacks the sophistication to be important (Fine, one thing must be said, and that is everyone walks around dressed like they are going to mow someone’s damn lawn). It is the other things that intrigue me. For instance, it is boring to say that Arizona is brighter than Kentucky but due to this an actual intriguing observation arose to me that Phoenicians absent-midedly put on sunglasses before going outside, ALWAYS. Arizonans have sunglasses everywhere and by God, I have yet to see anyone wearing sunglasses here but me. Nobody wears sunglasses, nobody drives trucks or jeeps, there is no recycling green movement, women belch, gentleman say ma’am and open doors, customer service is hardly caring and everyone dresses up for church on Sunday.