Wilmington is far harder to grasp than St. Croix Falls. Not metaphysically -- I don't want anyone thinking I'm calling St. Croix simple -- but as far as finding my way around, I'm a little more intimidated. I recognize highways 1, 2, 4, 7, 13, 95, 141, 295, and 495 (all within a 5-minute radius of our house) and I can use them to get from point A to point B and back home again. I remember the major landmarks, like Kohl's and Best Buy, and I'm getting more comfortable pulling U-turns to get on the right side of the highway. (Delaware's traffic planners decided it was safer to do that than to cut turn lanes through the divider for every store and strip mall. The only "no U-ies" sign I've seen applied just to trucks, and then only because the road isn't wide enough at that point for them to get all the way around. I've never seen, or executed, so many legal U-turns in my entire existence.)
But I've been fabricating errands to check off my list just so I don't get stuck in the house, intimidated, claustrophobic... insane. It's definitely harder these days to make myself take the first step and make a phone call or visit the county information center (which I haven't done here yet), but an outside observer probably would note my initiative. Yesterday I got my Delaware driver's license and then, remembering a Starbucks gift card I got for graduation, spent the afternoon at a Starbucks very near my house drinking mocha frappuccino on an empty stomach and cranking out job applications. On my list today is to make appointments with all the various healthcare practitioners I haven't seen since starting college (in some cases a mild exaggeration) now that I have insurance again! And then go check out furniture and building stores like Habitat for Humanity's ReStore for good deals and ideas on finishing the basement. Thomas and I have put together a pretty cool plan for a studio apartment on one half of the basement downstairs, and while this morning I woke up to a wave of anxiety about waking up underground every day, I'm excited to have my own space. Besides, I'm anxious about everything these days, and not without reason.
As you may have realized by now, I'm feeling less good about my life in general than I have been so far since graduation; but I'm working hard to turn my anxiety into kinetic energy, to work out a lifestyle I like that fits into Wilmington, DE -- more to come on that front, I'm sure.
But the thing that has endeared me to Delaware the most so far is the twang: as it turns out, Wilmington is a little bit South. From my limited experience of both, it's somewhat more clipped than the Arkansan tongue and considerably more clipped than Joel's thinly veiled West-Bank-New-Orleans drawl. And as we all know, I love a good new-town twang. The LCS workers I met at the ice cream social last week said they could definitely hear a little bit of Minnesota in my speech, so I've got a bit of work to do. But it has been a week since then...
The ladies at my mom's work call me "sweetie" and tell me I look exactly like my mom and I'm so pretty, and the way they talk sounds like they mean every word. Businessmen hold umbrellas and doors and lines for me, looking at me like I might be a half-real visitor from a softer world -- yesterday at the DMV a clerk took my case even though he was only supposed to take care of in-state renewals and address changes, and throughout the process he became warmer and warmer with me, a little shyer, never starting a conversation but by the time I left he seemed almost fond of me. For no reason except my "Live Foreign Birth" certificate, my New York driver's license, and the fact that I said, "Yes, please" to everything: would I like to be an organ donor, would I like to register to vote while I'm here, do I wear contacts or glasses to drive... And the photo ID guy smiled real big when he called my name and I appeared almost instantly. He took a good long pleasant look at my face and said, "Well, you've sure got good hearing!"
It feels unusual, for people to respond so strongly to the polite but positive energy I'm carrying with me these days -- or to the Oregon-plated Golf's tiny turn radius, perfect for U-turns, which for some reason I'm sure the guy in the black SUV who held the door for me at Starbucks took note of. When I mentioned it to my mom, she suggested that a pretty, educated, polite person my age who hasn't lost hope is a rare breed in these parts, in the eye of the metropolitan hurricane that forms this part of the Eastern Seaboard. Speaking of hurricanes, we saw not one weatherperson and hardly a mention of Delaware on the Weather Channel's coverage of Hurricane Irene last weekend -- even though we're closer to the coast than D.C., tucked in right under Philly, and exactly on the way from Virginia to New York City. Really, I'm not surprised that some people might have forgotten about themselves.
Now if that energy could get me a job stat, that would be ideal. It's definitely a different cup of tea trying to find employment in a sprawling city like this than in a small, concise Wisconsin town where I can walk into every shop on Main Street, start a conversation with the proprietor or clerk, and ask if they know of anyplace that's hiring, or anybody that needs work done. In Wilmington it would take me longer to get to a place I could walk into for a chat than it did to do a whole block on St. Croix's Main Street. This is also not a bikes, co-ops, farmer's markets, and internet cafés kind of city overall, which means my sense of community is going to need a makeover. Toto, we're not in the Midwest anymore.
...Toto, we're not in a small, private, allegedly "green" liberal arts college in the Midwest anymore. The alumni network hardly even reaches this far east.
On a completely unrelated note, Alex sets off for India today, four days later than planned. He'll be gone for a year, studying Hindi in school for a semester and then traveling around doing who knows what. Not that I see him more than every summer anyway, but it feels far. I guess I'm sending a lot of energy today to help the plane get safely across the globe.
But I've been fabricating errands to check off my list just so I don't get stuck in the house, intimidated, claustrophobic... insane. It's definitely harder these days to make myself take the first step and make a phone call or visit the county information center (which I haven't done here yet), but an outside observer probably would note my initiative. Yesterday I got my Delaware driver's license and then, remembering a Starbucks gift card I got for graduation, spent the afternoon at a Starbucks very near my house drinking mocha frappuccino on an empty stomach and cranking out job applications. On my list today is to make appointments with all the various healthcare practitioners I haven't seen since starting college (in some cases a mild exaggeration) now that I have insurance again! And then go check out furniture and building stores like Habitat for Humanity's ReStore for good deals and ideas on finishing the basement. Thomas and I have put together a pretty cool plan for a studio apartment on one half of the basement downstairs, and while this morning I woke up to a wave of anxiety about waking up underground every day, I'm excited to have my own space. Besides, I'm anxious about everything these days, and not without reason.
As you may have realized by now, I'm feeling less good about my life in general than I have been so far since graduation; but I'm working hard to turn my anxiety into kinetic energy, to work out a lifestyle I like that fits into Wilmington, DE -- more to come on that front, I'm sure.
But the thing that has endeared me to Delaware the most so far is the twang: as it turns out, Wilmington is a little bit South. From my limited experience of both, it's somewhat more clipped than the Arkansan tongue and considerably more clipped than Joel's thinly veiled West-Bank-New-Orleans drawl. And as we all know, I love a good new-town twang. The LCS workers I met at the ice cream social last week said they could definitely hear a little bit of Minnesota in my speech, so I've got a bit of work to do. But it has been a week since then...
The ladies at my mom's work call me "sweetie" and tell me I look exactly like my mom and I'm so pretty, and the way they talk sounds like they mean every word. Businessmen hold umbrellas and doors and lines for me, looking at me like I might be a half-real visitor from a softer world -- yesterday at the DMV a clerk took my case even though he was only supposed to take care of in-state renewals and address changes, and throughout the process he became warmer and warmer with me, a little shyer, never starting a conversation but by the time I left he seemed almost fond of me. For no reason except my "Live Foreign Birth" certificate, my New York driver's license, and the fact that I said, "Yes, please" to everything: would I like to be an organ donor, would I like to register to vote while I'm here, do I wear contacts or glasses to drive... And the photo ID guy smiled real big when he called my name and I appeared almost instantly. He took a good long pleasant look at my face and said, "Well, you've sure got good hearing!"
It feels unusual, for people to respond so strongly to the polite but positive energy I'm carrying with me these days -- or to the Oregon-plated Golf's tiny turn radius, perfect for U-turns, which for some reason I'm sure the guy in the black SUV who held the door for me at Starbucks took note of. When I mentioned it to my mom, she suggested that a pretty, educated, polite person my age who hasn't lost hope is a rare breed in these parts, in the eye of the metropolitan hurricane that forms this part of the Eastern Seaboard. Speaking of hurricanes, we saw not one weatherperson and hardly a mention of Delaware on the Weather Channel's coverage of Hurricane Irene last weekend -- even though we're closer to the coast than D.C., tucked in right under Philly, and exactly on the way from Virginia to New York City. Really, I'm not surprised that some people might have forgotten about themselves.
Now if that energy could get me a job stat, that would be ideal. It's definitely a different cup of tea trying to find employment in a sprawling city like this than in a small, concise Wisconsin town where I can walk into every shop on Main Street, start a conversation with the proprietor or clerk, and ask if they know of anyplace that's hiring, or anybody that needs work done. In Wilmington it would take me longer to get to a place I could walk into for a chat than it did to do a whole block on St. Croix's Main Street. This is also not a bikes, co-ops, farmer's markets, and internet cafés kind of city overall, which means my sense of community is going to need a makeover. Toto, we're not in the Midwest anymore.
...Toto, we're not in a small, private, allegedly "green" liberal arts college in the Midwest anymore. The alumni network hardly even reaches this far east.
On a completely unrelated note, Alex sets off for India today, four days later than planned. He'll be gone for a year, studying Hindi in school for a semester and then traveling around doing who knows what. Not that I see him more than every summer anyway, but it feels far. I guess I'm sending a lot of energy today to help the plane get safely across the globe.
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