September 18th, 2005

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fair weekend

Yesterday my sister, my friend Andrea, and myself went to the state fair, and it was pretty rockin' as usual. We walked through the rows and rows of weird vendors selling vacuum cleaners and knife sets. Picked up literature at cool political tables... vegetarians, libertarians, pro-lifers with their plastic fetuses, pro-choicers with their free "Value Women" buttons (which we wore proudly! yes!), kansans for abstinence education, kansans for funding education, kansans who never got education (oops, wait, that was the Re-Elect Tiahrt booth).

I got a state fair t-shirt. We ate corn dogs and had funnel cake, which Andrea had never had before. She said it was pretty good. We had ice cream cones.

Walked around and looked at animals and looked at owners of said animals... farm boys are so hot! What is it about "themes" that's always so exciting? I still say cute punk rock boys are better, because with cowboys you always worry about underlying racism... ones I went to college with had some backwards political views, to say the least. But they're all fun to look at. Oh, but we were looking at animals... of course. Cows, horses, pigs, goats, sheep, llamas, ducks, chickens, and rabbits... I LOVE rabbits. They're huge and fluffy and do cute things, like clean their ears. I got to pet a little baby pig and we sat and watched two week-old calves hobbling around looking bewildered.

Walked around and looked at some rides but didn't ride any. We're not really ride people. Did watch the chainsaw artist though, and took pictures of ourselves next to the giant butter sculpture, and more pictures of ourselves next to 200 lb pumpkins.

Got one of the new Kansas state quarters, just minted this year. Very exciting!

And that was the fair... we were pretty much dead exhausted by the time it was all done so we came home and crashed, then went out for mexican food at like 9:30.


I'm moving. This week it's really in full gear... I'm having people over to move furniture next Saturday, so I need to have all the other little random stuff, with the exception of things I absolutely can't live without, moved out before then.

Moving gives you lots to think about. Packing up all your stuff isn't a real mentally taxing process, so your mind just wanders, it's like driving. I think about all my stuff, and all the stuff I have, and all the stuff I'm getting rid of (thank GOD for the goodwill donation drive-thru down the street!). Stuff I could sell. What the bare minimums for survival are. How I accumulated so much stuff. Three years ago, I had about nothing... I'd survived just fine in a 10x12 dorm room. Getting stuff for a kitchen was a big deal. Getting neat art to hang on the walls was really exciting, because I could afford real art... go to auctions, meet the artists, have it professionally framed. Getting lamps was really exciting.

I think about the apartment. My sister was helping me take pictures off the walls, and when they were almost bare she looked around and said, "It's so blank now! Does it make you sad to really be leaving?" I was like... no. I don't really like this place. It's dark and I never made friends with any neighbors. It's crappy. There are lights that turn on and off on their own. They got paint on the bathroom floor. The carpet is worn out... it's cheap carpet, made to be replaced all the time because people don't live in these types of apartments for three years.

I think about places I could be moving. This roommate thing is another temporary place, just like this apartment, I don't know how long I'll stay.

When I first started work, and they were doing rounds and rounds of layoffs, I was sure i'd be leaving this town. Part of me wanted to move far, far away. I saved like crazy that first year because I was scared I might not have a job. I finally enough to get me to a coast or maybe even europe, and I'd have nothing when I got there but I'd be free. Instead, I got to keep my job. Being so new, I was really suprised, and happy that someone was watching out for me.

Later, I almost moved in with a roommate on the east side, but she really did get laid off, and left and went to tulsa, and I've only talked to her a few times since. That time, I put my 30 day notice in to my apartment, but managed to keep it anyway.

I got serious with a boyfriend. He said when he finished some work on his house, I should move in with him. He seemed to think it would work out really well. It didn't feel right. I couldn't place what didn't feel right about it. I just knew that I wasn't ready. We broke up. It's been one year ago, this month. Friends move in with guys. Friends get married, and have kids, and move into houses to fit their families. Should I be that grown up? Why do I feel so okay, not being there yet, when it's where so many other people are?

I shopped for a house of my own. People with my job and no outstanding student loans buy houses. I'm one of the few who rent. I just couldn't find one I liked, and sometimes part of me is kind of scared to live in a house all by myself. it sounds so isolating, you know? And such a huge commitment to this city... buying a house! You have to stay, or sell the house... selling a house is a much bigger deal than just waiting for a lease to run out. Besides, I'm saving a lot of money... well past the point that I'd once set for myself as the dollar amount to have when I bought a house. What's going to happen, I'll be 30 and think, "Oh shit, I've saved up WAY too much cash, what the hell am I supposed to do with all this?"

Sometimes I think about leaving Kansas and going somewhere that's not so conservative. Hell, go on an adventure! Apply at one of those hot new startup aircraft manufacturers... go build a super-sonic business jet in the desert somewhere, where it's warm all the time. What's holding you in this midwest, bible-belt state? But I like my job now, and the people I work with, and they're paying for my master's. and my family is here. and my weird politics kinda make it so I feel like kansas needs me. I make a difference here.

I'm really, finally moving, and it's barely four miles away from where I live now. I guess that's my main thought... part of me feels like my first move in three years should be bigger.

Can a life be very big if its changes are very small?
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