I Wasn't Wrong

I’ve spent the last ten years trying to get out of the Midwest. With no offense to the people who live there. I understand why people do. I even understand that some people love it. I was just never one of those people. I was never meant to be there. It didn’t feel like home to me.

But after so long spent trying to get somewhere else, somewhere different, after swearing I would be happier “anywhere but here” for years, and after selling California to Mr. E time and time again, (who grew up in Michigan and went to college in Minnesota and thought both places were already pretty ok), I started to doubt myself. I started to wonder if maybe I was buying into some kind of weird California illusion and really all places were pretty much the same and I was just an unhappy person and maybe no place was THAT great and I should just suck it up and learn to love Nebraska.

Nope.

I was right.

I love it here.

The Beach Boys did sing about a kind of fantasy, but I’m here to tell you that now that I’m here I remember what I used to know, that that fantasy is kind of true. Really, even though it’s all just little stuff: Sitting in a crystal clear lake on a hot June day with my husband and my best friend, or eating ripe blackberries from the farmer’s market. Buying cheap red wine at Trader Joe’s. Seeing mountains out my car window. The cute picture of me on my Costco card.

It feels like we’re on vacation somewhere great, but we live here. And it’s pretty fucking awesome.

The weird thing is that as soon as I saw the mountains in Utah I thought – holy crap, who knew I missed mountains so much! And I started to grin and then I knew for certain, in a way I almost never know things, that it was completely the right thing to do, to move here. So far the people are so friendly and it’s been sunny and hot every day and Mr. E and I wandered around Safeway like idiots pointing at the pineapples for 2.99 and the red peppers for only a dollar each. I just really love it here already. I don’t even know if I would say it was all worth it or try to explain it away. I still think I needed the journey here, but holy crap, am I glad its over.

In other news I had to stay off my ankle for two weeks, I ate the worlds worst food while traveling, and therefore I lost a pound and am now at my lowest weight ever. So who the fuck knows what’s up with that.