With little inclination toward remembering (much less celebrating) anniversaries, in about a month it would have occurred to me that I moved to Minnesota somewhere around a year ago. And I wouldn't have cared much.
L's great at remembering the dates, however, and had me primed a few days ago to recognize that this day right now is the day one year ago that I rolled my little sawed-off-shotgun-of-a-car into the western Minnesota plains. When I said, how do you remember these things?, I'm happy to report that her reply was something like, it's the day the love of my life moved to my home, you knucklehead! Oh, sweetie.
I've hardly left since I got here. I'm less nomadic than I used to be and with gasoline prices being what they are, I've spent a whole year minus about two weeks hunkering down in this great state.
Great?, you might be saying. Isn't this the THOSE CRAZY MINNESOTANS blog?
It's really undeniable. I had so much to complain about from November through April, that's true, and I am truly dreading the end of this gorgeous summer weather, but I cannot deny the fact that everything else works out for me here. It's uncanny and it's trippy and I haven't stopped pondering the good things that work out, almost effortlessly, for a year and half. Since before I moved here, many things have happened to make my life more close to how I want it to be, with one catch: I have to be in Minnesota to make it happen.
Maybe tonight I'll have my first beer since last August and I'll toast to this curious and full basket on my handlebars of life. Something's right, I tell 'ya, and I have Minnesota to thank for it. Here's to just completing one of the most satisfying years of my life!
Showing posts with label move. Show all posts
Showing posts with label move. Show all posts
Friday, June 13, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
err, um, well... fate?
I don't have a word for it.
Something's definitely been happening in the realm of the supernatural, for over a year now. I could call it fate and have it over with. I'm not too fond of resignation, though. So I'm stuck with the wondering and surprise.
That something that's been happening for over a year has something to do with a magnetic force that's pulling me and my previously wild, un-rooted roots into Minnesota and sucking them under like quicksand. (Previous blog post here alluding to this phenomenon.)
Let me try to help you relate with a benign theoretical construct. Say you're hungry. You go out and look for a place to eat, and not only does it take you a long time to get there because you get lost, you also encounter traffic, have a near-accident, get so hungry you can't think straight, and arrive to learn that your place is closed or the wait time is over a half hour. You know that feeling? Of course you do. You want to give up altogether.
Whatever is opposite to that is happening to me.
Outline:
2006: I endure one of the most agonizing years of my life in CA trying to figure out how to remedy many existential and professional crises. I cry - a lot. (But I'm warm. And go to the beach. And eat lots of fruit.)
Nov 06: I talk to my Chem prof who convinces me that life is not long enough to induce such self-suffering. Essentially she said, "Go. Do what you love, be happy, forget medical school." L. flies into CA, we have second breakfast, where I accidentally cry and proclaim my enduring, undeniable love. L. accepts the proposal. L. returns to MN.
Dec 06: I apply to three graduate schools in MN.
Feb 07: I'm accepted to all three schools.
Mar 07: I apply for one summer job. I get it.
May 07: I move from CA to MN - rather effortlessly, actually. I begin to integrate myself into L.'s family, and it's the most un-challenging and rewarding family experience of my life. (My own family sucks, bad.)
Sept 07: I start school. It's great. Really great. I've found my tribe. I feel smart again. I feel purpose, meaning, direction, hope and excitement every week.
Dec 07: I continue to hone my dreams and remember: For years, I have really, really, really, really wanted to focus on transgender health. I still want that. I brainstorm how in relation to social work. I commit to pursuing my next field placement in this area. I have a friend who then said, "oh, I know someone who's interested in accepting an intern for that work." She's not a mind-reader, either.
Jan 08: I begin a required research methods class. I LOVE it, which is weird. I think, "I want to be a assistant to someone doing trans health research."
Feb, 19, 08: I accidentally stumble across a job posting at the U for an Assistant to the Transgender Health Study. I apply, fervently.
Feb 20, 08. I await a phone call for an interview. And think: What the hell is going on? Minnesota WANTS me.
Minnesota: I surrender to you. I give in. I'm yours.
Something's definitely been happening in the realm of the supernatural, for over a year now. I could call it fate and have it over with. I'm not too fond of resignation, though. So I'm stuck with the wondering and surprise.
That something that's been happening for over a year has something to do with a magnetic force that's pulling me and my previously wild, un-rooted roots into Minnesota and sucking them under like quicksand. (Previous blog post here alluding to this phenomenon.)
Let me try to help you relate with a benign theoretical construct. Say you're hungry. You go out and look for a place to eat, and not only does it take you a long time to get there because you get lost, you also encounter traffic, have a near-accident, get so hungry you can't think straight, and arrive to learn that your place is closed or the wait time is over a half hour. You know that feeling? Of course you do. You want to give up altogether.
Whatever is opposite to that is happening to me.
Outline:
2006: I endure one of the most agonizing years of my life in CA trying to figure out how to remedy many existential and professional crises. I cry - a lot. (But I'm warm. And go to the beach. And eat lots of fruit.)
Nov 06: I talk to my Chem prof who convinces me that life is not long enough to induce such self-suffering. Essentially she said, "Go. Do what you love, be happy, forget medical school." L. flies into CA, we have second breakfast, where I accidentally cry and proclaim my enduring, undeniable love. L. accepts the proposal. L. returns to MN.
Dec 06: I apply to three graduate schools in MN.
Feb 07: I'm accepted to all three schools.
Mar 07: I apply for one summer job. I get it.
May 07: I move from CA to MN - rather effortlessly, actually. I begin to integrate myself into L.'s family, and it's the most un-challenging and rewarding family experience of my life. (My own family sucks, bad.)
Sept 07: I start school. It's great. Really great. I've found my tribe. I feel smart again. I feel purpose, meaning, direction, hope and excitement every week.
Dec 07: I continue to hone my dreams and remember: For years, I have really, really, really, really wanted to focus on transgender health. I still want that. I brainstorm how in relation to social work. I commit to pursuing my next field placement in this area. I have a friend who then said, "oh, I know someone who's interested in accepting an intern for that work." She's not a mind-reader, either.
Jan 08: I begin a required research methods class. I LOVE it, which is weird. I think, "I want to be a assistant to someone doing trans health research."
Feb, 19, 08: I accidentally stumble across a job posting at the U for an Assistant to the Transgender Health Study. I apply, fervently.
Feb 20, 08. I await a phone call for an interview. And think: What the hell is going on? Minnesota WANTS me.
Minnesota: I surrender to you. I give in. I'm yours.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
I have no reason to go to Minnesota...
I'm able bodied, young, fit, stubborn and spry. Additionally, to help with the unfortunate physics of being inexperienced with all things winter, I have Yaktrax to help out with what I have not yet mastered. I will not sugar-coat my disdain of Minnesota winter weather, but if it weren't already clear by the tone of my previous posts, let it be known officially that I wrestle daily with the question, "Why the hell am I in Minnesota?"
Today it's gray and dreary outside. Actual temperature right now is -4.4 degrees, wind chill is -20 degrees and we've had forecasts of snow since last night. (I know: it's colder outstate. I know: all you locals have lived through -80 degrees. I know: some of you pay $500 heating bills every month. I know, I know, I don't care.)
Okay, here's what I'm trying to get to. Why in the world would you live here if you are elderly? Permanently in use of a wheelchair? Chronically ill? I'm doing just fine in the scope of health and agility, and I slip all the time on ice, tromp awkwardly through snow, whine into the wind, and bitterly bitch about sub-zero temperatures. I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for anyone who's just not feeling so great.
I just walked home and crossed paths with a very old man who was so hunched over he could not comfortably look up to see where he was going. He carried a very large, heavy bag and wore tennis shoes. I'm so saddened that he has to get somewhere, and it's so uncomfortable and super slippery outside.
Long before I moved here and toward the end of the phase L. and I can only refer to simply and fondly as "friendship," I actually said to her, "I have no reason to go ever to Minnesota. Except to see you, I guess."
And now I live here. Indefinitely.
It sure is amazing what we put up with. The trade-off is unquestionably worth it - success, happiness, family, love, clarity, direction, purpose. I'm just not sure if the putting-up-with gets more arduous or more tolerable with time. By the time I'm old and frail and dependent on devices for mobility, I really wonder if I'll have grown to ignore or (gasp!) even enjoy November through March.
Today it's gray and dreary outside. Actual temperature right now is -4.4 degrees, wind chill is -20 degrees and we've had forecasts of snow since last night. (I know: it's colder outstate. I know: all you locals have lived through -80 degrees. I know: some of you pay $500 heating bills every month. I know, I know, I don't care.)
Okay, here's what I'm trying to get to. Why in the world would you live here if you are elderly? Permanently in use of a wheelchair? Chronically ill? I'm doing just fine in the scope of health and agility, and I slip all the time on ice, tromp awkwardly through snow, whine into the wind, and bitterly bitch about sub-zero temperatures. I cannot imagine how difficult this must be for anyone who's just not feeling so great.
I just walked home and crossed paths with a very old man who was so hunched over he could not comfortably look up to see where he was going. He carried a very large, heavy bag and wore tennis shoes. I'm so saddened that he has to get somewhere, and it's so uncomfortable and super slippery outside.
Long before I moved here and toward the end of the phase L. and I can only refer to simply and fondly as "friendship," I actually said to her, "I have no reason to go ever to Minnesota. Except to see you, I guess."
And now I live here. Indefinitely.
It sure is amazing what we put up with. The trade-off is unquestionably worth it - success, happiness, family, love, clarity, direction, purpose. I'm just not sure if the putting-up-with gets more arduous or more tolerable with time. By the time I'm old and frail and dependent on devices for mobility, I really wonder if I'll have grown to ignore or (gasp!) even enjoy November through March.
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