I have officially survived nearly six weeks in Dixieland, with four and a half more weeks til I move to Chicago.
Right after my last blog, I had a week of family time. Our Christthanksgivingmas 2011 weeklong celebration went well. As my family has aged, either we've gotten saner or we behave better because it's so infrequent for us all to be together. Whatever the reason, it was a good week. My brother and his girlfriend, Hollie, flew over from Corvallis, OR and my sister came here from Carbondale, CO. Once I move to Chicago, my family will have successfully taken over all four time zones! Next goal: let's start taking over the continents. Dibs on Antarctica.
Anyways, after the week of Christthanksgivingmas, I decided I needed to take a little break from SC. I've started carving out a small niche here for myself, but it still isn't home, and I wanted to go spend time with a couple of friends who also inhabit these strange Southern lands. Also, all this time down here without having friends nearby has been so odd. I needed a living, breathing reminder that my friends still exist in this world!
So, a week after my siblings left Summerville, I hopped in the car for my last solo roadtrip before moving to Chicago. [Sidenote: in the last month and a half, I've roadtripped through 9 states and driven about 2,423 miles! Oh, how I'll miss my car in Chicago.] I drove South on I-95 til Jacksonville, FL, then cut across the panhandle on I-10 to Pensacola, FL. If you're from the North and want to know what driving across the FL panhandle is like, picture driving across Ohio, only it's a good bit warmer and sunnier. I-10 is dreadfully flat and boring, and I decided very quickly that I'd be finding a different route home.
I reached Pensacola that evening a little after sunset and found my friend Kristen's home. I met Kristen at Mission Meadows five and a half years ago (yikes! I am getting up there in years...). She was a senior at Grove City College at the time, and I was going into my sophomore year at Allegheny. I consider her my first real "grown-up" friend. After graduating from Grove City, she got a grown-up job and an apartment of her own. Meanwhile, I was still a punk college kid who hadn't had a taste of real life yet. We'd meet up a few times a year and catch up over dinner in Meadville or Grove City.
Kristen moved down to FL in the fall of 2010 and married Ben, who she'd met in Beaver Falls, PA a few years earlier. Ben's training to be a pilot in the Navy, and they live near the naval base in Pensacola. The last time I'd seen Kristen was in the summer of '10 right before she moved. Since then, I'd wanted to come visit her in her new home and life, and my two month vacation from life in the South gave me the perfect chance to finally see her.
Friday night, Kristen and I went to dinner at the Fish House, one of her favorite restaurants in Pensacola. I had some world famous Grits a Ya-Ya (not 100% sure that's the name) that have been featured on all sorts of cooking shows. They were aMAZing. The next day, she showed me around where she lives and we watched some college football with her husband.
Ok. One thing I've learned about Southerners is they LIVE AND DIE for their college football. They're straight up crazy about it. They fly their team's flags on their houses and cars. They disappear from the world on Saturday afternoons to stare wide-eyed at their TV screens and yell all sorts of awful things at the television. And don't even try to talk about anything other than football on Saturdays! They won't have it.
I left their house during the LSU game, hoping the traffic would be lighter because of the game and widespread addiction to football. Success! I got to Foley, AL after an easy 40 minute drive.
In Foley, I stayed at the Peters' house. Their (biological) son, Jesse, and (unbiological) son, Jeff, are also friends of mine from camp. They'd both said I should come visit Foley sometime, and I couldn't imagine a better time to go see them than now.
The Peters' house is not your typical place. Jesse and Jeff have both called it a community house, while Robin and John (Jesse's parents) insist it's just a family home. I guess it's somewhere in between.
My first impression of their house was pretty wild. I pulled up to the curb and the first thing I saw was this perfect little fenced-in garden at the side of house. Walking in, I met the Peters family and noticed the "family" Thanksgiving dinner I'd been told about was set up to seat maybe 30 people, give or take a few. That night alone, I met a couple dozen people and watched a little community/family celebrate their second Thanksgiving this year. By the next day, I felt completely at home there (which is saying something, since the South and I have had a rocky relationship so far).
Over the next week, I got to be a part of life in the Peters household and go all around Southern Alabama. I'd never been to Bama before, and it was so good to be somewhere new. Southern AL has a certain charm to it, in a different way than Charleston does. It's not as redneck as snobby Northerners would expect, and it's not as commercialized as the FL gulf coast (thank goodness). It's beautiful in its relaxed, coastal, small town, big-hearted, raw, uncomplicated, comfortable, hospitable way. Not to say it doesn't have its fair share of struggles like anywhere else - there's plenty of poverty and other issues beneath the surface - but there were a lot of unexpected good things there as well.
The greatest thing about the trip was the people I met and spent time with. The Peters family is pretty wonderful, and their house is a meeting place for so many different folks from their community (or people connected to someone there). The house varies from boisterous chaos to unexpected tranquility, and there can be great advantages to both those circumstances and everything else in between. Personally, I've had enough time to myself over the first month of my stay down South to last me a while, so I loved the ever-shifting, lively crew of people passing through the doors of the Peters' home.
And now I'm back in Summerville. I'm writing this in an overstuffed easy chair with my dog curled up next to me and enough peace and quiet I could easily share it with a few people. It'd be nice if it worked that way - send tranquility to the half-crazed people running themselves ragged in their hopped-up lives, and send some crazy to those who have accidentally overdosed on silence and solitude.
As much as I crave balance in my life, that's just not how it is at the moment. Two months of too much peace and quiet down here (split in half by one much-welcomed week of crazy in AL!), and then I head to Chicago. Life is going to be all sorts of madness there for a while as I settle into my brand-new city and school. Til then, I guess I'll just continue to store up some energy and get ready for the whirlwind on the horizon.
11.18.2011
my vacation from life: learning about (unlabelled) rachel
It's been two and a half weeks since I've arrived in South Carolina. Eighteen days. Slightly over four hundred and thirty-two hours. Not that I'm counting or anything.
Seriously though, it's slipping by faster than I'd expected. It's also been better than I'd hoped.
For all that I had thought about (and blogged about) my anticipation of what Seminary will be like come January, I neglected thinking much about this odd little two month window of time between New York and Chicago. I could hardly form any expectations for this time because frankly, there was barely anything to structure my expectations around.
During this month and the next, I can literally do whatever I choose to do with my time. [There are limitations, of course, largely centered around a lack of income and my decision to not find a job and earn some money while I'm down here.] I was, and am, curious to see who I am and how I act - or react - to just being Rachel for two months. There are no comfortable labels for me to hide behind, like "student," "Americorps paralegal," or "youth minister." It's just me, no official occupation or clearly articulated purpose.
This idea might be making you uncomfortable. Pause for a moment. Imagine you had two entire months without a structured schedule, occupation, obligation, or pressure to do anything or be anywhere. Can you fathom how much this could potentially mess with your sense of identity? I think we often try to draw our sense of worth or value from what we do, what we accomplish, and how others view us. Could you deal with who you are, minus your position or role in society? By the end of these two months, I guess we'll find out if I can.
Now, this two month period of blank time in my life is not as traumatic as the scenario I just painted for you, based on the fact that 1). I know that this break from life is temporary and I know exactly when it ends, and 2). I have already settled on my next occupation as a student at North Park's seminary and business school.
However, there are still a little over two months were I have a massive amount of free time to do what I want. I have a theory that this two months of just being Rachel, without any label, may be a much clearer indicator of who I am than the comfortably labelled Rachel. Down here, my schedule is not filled up with work, youth group, and time with my friends (the last factor being based on the fact I have no friends down here lol). My time is almost entirely under my control, and I think that how I choose to spend that time may reflect more about my real identity than when my life is dominated by commitments I don't always have much control over.
Here are a few things I've learned (or affirmed) about myself in the last two and a half weeks:
*I love being outside. This is a part of me that suffered immensely while I lived in New York based on the, um, temperamental weather patterns of western New York.
That's just a nice way of saying the weather often blows there. Winter from November through April is not ok on any level. Did I mention I'll be in Chicago for most of the next four years? Awesome..
Here, it's been sunny and in the low 70s nearly every day. I walk my parents' dog, Ellie, a couple times a day, plus I get to either run, hike, or bike most days as well. I also get to read outside in the screened-in porch, sitting in a rocking chair, drinking excessive amounts of coffee while the suns streams over me, vaguely wondering if living in the South would be such a crazy idea after all.
*That being said, I am still convinced the North is better, and I continue to pledge my undying love and devotion to it. Amen.
*I like to cook. This one surprised me a little. What's even more surprising is that I'm kind of good at it. My sister bought me a Moosewood cookbook a few years ago, but until this month, all I'd done was flipped through it. The recipes in it all looked intimidatingly complicated and time-consuming, and they all required a lot of ingredients (which in turn required a lot of extra cash lying around). Thanks to my parents subsidizing this new cooking hobby (hey..they are benefitting from this too!), I've made a couple meals that have all turned out well. My best experiment so far was the minestrone I made last night.
*I like being around my parents! And no, I did not just stick this in here to suck up since they read this occasionally. I must admit the idea of moving in with them for two months made me nervous. I haven't lived with them for a significant amount of time since high school. Even during college, I was pretty much gone each summer. Spending all this time with them has been really nice so far, and it's good to know I've finally matured enough to co-exist peacefully with my parents. I feel like I should get some Grown-Up Points for this.
*I like reading. I really don't see the need to elaborate on this one.
*I like spending time with Jesus. Whew. My four years in Seminary would've been awfully long and painful if that had changed..
*I like having friends. Ironically, this was made clear due to my lack of friends down here. However, I have some pretty incredible friends scattered around the US...and world, actually...who are doing well staying in touch (and keeping me entertained). I'm also making sure I get out and meet people around here. If my only face-to-face social interaction over these two months was with my parents, that would just be Bad. Real, real bad. They're great, but there is no way that would be healthy. The sad part is, if I do end up finding any amazing friends down here over the next two months, I'm just going to end up abandoning them at the end of the year for Chicago.
On that cheerful note, this encompasses what I've learned about myself so far. Next week, I get to learn how unlabelled Rachel does while hanging out with her entire family during the much-anticipated Christthanksgivingmas 2011!
Seriously though, it's slipping by faster than I'd expected. It's also been better than I'd hoped.
For all that I had thought about (and blogged about) my anticipation of what Seminary will be like come January, I neglected thinking much about this odd little two month window of time between New York and Chicago. I could hardly form any expectations for this time because frankly, there was barely anything to structure my expectations around.
During this month and the next, I can literally do whatever I choose to do with my time. [There are limitations, of course, largely centered around a lack of income and my decision to not find a job and earn some money while I'm down here.] I was, and am, curious to see who I am and how I act - or react - to just being Rachel for two months. There are no comfortable labels for me to hide behind, like "student," "Americorps paralegal," or "youth minister." It's just me, no official occupation or clearly articulated purpose.
This idea might be making you uncomfortable. Pause for a moment. Imagine you had two entire months without a structured schedule, occupation, obligation, or pressure to do anything or be anywhere. Can you fathom how much this could potentially mess with your sense of identity? I think we often try to draw our sense of worth or value from what we do, what we accomplish, and how others view us. Could you deal with who you are, minus your position or role in society? By the end of these two months, I guess we'll find out if I can.
Now, this two month period of blank time in my life is not as traumatic as the scenario I just painted for you, based on the fact that 1). I know that this break from life is temporary and I know exactly when it ends, and 2). I have already settled on my next occupation as a student at North Park's seminary and business school.
However, there are still a little over two months were I have a massive amount of free time to do what I want. I have a theory that this two months of just being Rachel, without any label, may be a much clearer indicator of who I am than the comfortably labelled Rachel. Down here, my schedule is not filled up with work, youth group, and time with my friends (the last factor being based on the fact I have no friends down here lol). My time is almost entirely under my control, and I think that how I choose to spend that time may reflect more about my real identity than when my life is dominated by commitments I don't always have much control over.
Here are a few things I've learned (or affirmed) about myself in the last two and a half weeks:
*I love being outside. This is a part of me that suffered immensely while I lived in New York based on the, um, temperamental weather patterns of western New York.
That's just a nice way of saying the weather often blows there. Winter from November through April is not ok on any level. Did I mention I'll be in Chicago for most of the next four years? Awesome..
Here, it's been sunny and in the low 70s nearly every day. I walk my parents' dog, Ellie, a couple times a day, plus I get to either run, hike, or bike most days as well. I also get to read outside in the screened-in porch, sitting in a rocking chair, drinking excessive amounts of coffee while the suns streams over me, vaguely wondering if living in the South would be such a crazy idea after all.
*That being said, I am still convinced the North is better, and I continue to pledge my undying love and devotion to it. Amen.
*I like to cook. This one surprised me a little. What's even more surprising is that I'm kind of good at it. My sister bought me a Moosewood cookbook a few years ago, but until this month, all I'd done was flipped through it. The recipes in it all looked intimidatingly complicated and time-consuming, and they all required a lot of ingredients (which in turn required a lot of extra cash lying around). Thanks to my parents subsidizing this new cooking hobby (hey..they are benefitting from this too!), I've made a couple meals that have all turned out well. My best experiment so far was the minestrone I made last night.
*I like being around my parents! And no, I did not just stick this in here to suck up since they read this occasionally. I must admit the idea of moving in with them for two months made me nervous. I haven't lived with them for a significant amount of time since high school. Even during college, I was pretty much gone each summer. Spending all this time with them has been really nice so far, and it's good to know I've finally matured enough to co-exist peacefully with my parents. I feel like I should get some Grown-Up Points for this.
*I like reading. I really don't see the need to elaborate on this one.
*I like spending time with Jesus. Whew. My four years in Seminary would've been awfully long and painful if that had changed..
*I like having friends. Ironically, this was made clear due to my lack of friends down here. However, I have some pretty incredible friends scattered around the US...and world, actually...who are doing well staying in touch (and keeping me entertained). I'm also making sure I get out and meet people around here. If my only face-to-face social interaction over these two months was with my parents, that would just be Bad. Real, real bad. They're great, but there is no way that would be healthy. The sad part is, if I do end up finding any amazing friends down here over the next two months, I'm just going to end up abandoning them at the end of the year for Chicago.
On that cheerful note, this encompasses what I've learned about myself so far. Next week, I get to learn how unlabelled Rachel does while hanging out with her entire family during the much-anticipated Christthanksgivingmas 2011!
11.06.2011
the winding road to Dixieland, part two
Vienna, VA >> Summerville, SC
Sunday evening, I drove a short distance from Vienna to Stephens City, VA to spend the night at Mike and Colleen's apartment. Those two are friends from camp; I worked with them back in '06 and we've stayed connected ever since. After catching up for awhile, we watched a great American classic - The Goonies! None of us had seen it before [I am ashamed...don't judge us too harshly for that] and it was better than I ever could have imagined. It only stoked my desire to be a pirate captain. Monday morning after breakfast, I embarked on my last big day of driving.
The first half of Monday's journey took me to Blacksburg, VA, where I visited Erin Balaban [better known in Dewittville, NY as Balaban the Conqueror]. Erin's a friend from camp as well, and we worked together a few years ago. We stood outside a grocery store for the first hour of my visit, since her sorority was collecting items for a local women's shelter. This got pretty entertaining, as we met all sorts of people this way. We met everyone from the super friendly to the outright anti-social, who would hastily pull out their phones and pretend to be in the middle of an important conversation as they practically ran by us into the store. And then there were people in costumes...gotta love Halloween in a college town. After this, we grabbed lunch and caught up, then I hopped back in my hoarder car and gunned it for Asheville, NC.
I got to Asheville without a problem, and I eventually found Becky and Justin's apartment in West Asheville. Besides my GPS's inability to pick up the location of their apartment, as the apartment complex is newer, it was dark. Bad combination.
Becky is one of my best friends from Allegheny, and Justin is her husband of 2+ years! They're pretty great. We grabbed dinner at HomeGrown, a fantastic little restaurant in Asheville, and then I caught up with Becky while cutting out things for her classroom. The next morning, I said goodbye to Becks at 6:30 (Yikes! Yet another reason I couldn't handle being a teacher.), went back to sleep..of course..and ended up leaving late in the morning for downtown Asheville.
There, I met up with Dillon, a friend from this past summer's staff at Mission Meadows. Dillon, a native Alabamian (Alabamer? Alabamen?) moved down to Asheville at the end of the summer. I'm not surprised he likes it there, seeing as he's a natural musician who can play any instrument I've ever seen, and Asheville's a great musical/artsy town. Besides that, Asheville's ridiculously gorgeous. It's up in the mountains of western NC, and it's at a high enough altitude that it gets all four seasons.
After Dillon and I met up, we walked..and we walked..and we walked in search of food. We eventually found a crepe restaurant downtown with some killer sweet tea. Let me say for the record that there are some things the South does better. This list includes (but is not limited to): the art of relaxation, comfort food, overall weather patterns, whiskey, pralines, and keeping cars rust-free. There are many things the South does that's just plain crazy (boiled peanuts anyone?! Siiiick.), but I'm sure I'll get into that another day.
My visit with Dillon ended after that, and I jumped back in my car for the final leg of the trip. I drove from Asheville to Summerville in record time, thanks to some good weather, a speed limit of 70 mph (add this to the list of things the South does better), and an impatience to reach my destination. Not only was I looking forward to seeing my parents, but I was also itching to NOT BE IN MY CAR.
Don't misunderstand me - roadtrips and adventures are still wonderful in my book. However, sitting for hours on end in a hoarder car for nearly a week can make a person long for the end of their journey.
Around 5:30 on Tuesday evening, I rolled into my parents driveway in Suburbia, uh I mean, Summerville, SC. My mom and dad were thrilled to see me, which I suspect is largely due to my status as baby of the family/favorite child.
My roadtrip has officially ended. I am in Dixieland for the next two months, which still blows my mind. As in, what do you do with a two month vacation from Real Life? There will be more on that in following posts, I'm sure. Til then, I will try to settle into my new home in the South.
Go Yankees.
Sunday evening, I drove a short distance from Vienna to Stephens City, VA to spend the night at Mike and Colleen's apartment. Those two are friends from camp; I worked with them back in '06 and we've stayed connected ever since. After catching up for awhile, we watched a great American classic - The Goonies! None of us had seen it before [I am ashamed...don't judge us too harshly for that] and it was better than I ever could have imagined. It only stoked my desire to be a pirate captain. Monday morning after breakfast, I embarked on my last big day of driving.
The first half of Monday's journey took me to Blacksburg, VA, where I visited Erin Balaban [better known in Dewittville, NY as Balaban the Conqueror]. Erin's a friend from camp as well, and we worked together a few years ago. We stood outside a grocery store for the first hour of my visit, since her sorority was collecting items for a local women's shelter. This got pretty entertaining, as we met all sorts of people this way. We met everyone from the super friendly to the outright anti-social, who would hastily pull out their phones and pretend to be in the middle of an important conversation as they practically ran by us into the store. And then there were people in costumes...gotta love Halloween in a college town. After this, we grabbed lunch and caught up, then I hopped back in my hoarder car and gunned it for Asheville, NC.
I got to Asheville without a problem, and I eventually found Becky and Justin's apartment in West Asheville. Besides my GPS's inability to pick up the location of their apartment, as the apartment complex is newer, it was dark. Bad combination.
Becky is one of my best friends from Allegheny, and Justin is her husband of 2+ years! They're pretty great. We grabbed dinner at HomeGrown, a fantastic little restaurant in Asheville, and then I caught up with Becky while cutting out things for her classroom. The next morning, I said goodbye to Becks at 6:30 (Yikes! Yet another reason I couldn't handle being a teacher.), went back to sleep..of course..and ended up leaving late in the morning for downtown Asheville.
There, I met up with Dillon, a friend from this past summer's staff at Mission Meadows. Dillon, a native Alabamian (Alabamer? Alabamen?) moved down to Asheville at the end of the summer. I'm not surprised he likes it there, seeing as he's a natural musician who can play any instrument I've ever seen, and Asheville's a great musical/artsy town. Besides that, Asheville's ridiculously gorgeous. It's up in the mountains of western NC, and it's at a high enough altitude that it gets all four seasons.
After Dillon and I met up, we walked..and we walked..and we walked in search of food. We eventually found a crepe restaurant downtown with some killer sweet tea. Let me say for the record that there are some things the South does better. This list includes (but is not limited to): the art of relaxation, comfort food, overall weather patterns, whiskey, pralines, and keeping cars rust-free. There are many things the South does that's just plain crazy (boiled peanuts anyone?! Siiiick.), but I'm sure I'll get into that another day.
My visit with Dillon ended after that, and I jumped back in my car for the final leg of the trip. I drove from Asheville to Summerville in record time, thanks to some good weather, a speed limit of 70 mph (add this to the list of things the South does better), and an impatience to reach my destination. Not only was I looking forward to seeing my parents, but I was also itching to NOT BE IN MY CAR.
Don't misunderstand me - roadtrips and adventures are still wonderful in my book. However, sitting for hours on end in a hoarder car for nearly a week can make a person long for the end of their journey.
Around 5:30 on Tuesday evening, I rolled into my parents driveway in Suburbia, uh I mean, Summerville, SC. My mom and dad were thrilled to see me, which I suspect is largely due to my status as baby of the family/favorite child.
My roadtrip has officially ended. I am in Dixieland for the next two months, which still blows my mind. As in, what do you do with a two month vacation from Real Life? There will be more on that in following posts, I'm sure. Til then, I will try to settle into my new home in the South.
Go Yankees.
11.04.2011
the winding road to Dixieland, part 1
Jamestown, NY >> Vienna, VA
On leaving New York last Thursday, I had two options: 1). put the pedal to the metal and haul it down to South Carolina, or 2). meander slowly down the East Coast, visiting a dozen friends "on the way." This was not a difficult decision. Roadtrips are glorious. That being said, I must admit that it would've been nicer not to have to drag most of my worldly possessions along with me on this trip. My car was rather full, to put it mildly. As in, I felt slightly claustrophobic at times as my stuff hemmed me in on all sides.
However, I wasn't about to let claustrophobia or "unsafe driving conditions" - a.k.a. not being able to see much out the rear window - rain on my parade. Or the fact that I had to do this roadtrip on my own because my stuff took over my car. If you can't fit a friend in the car with you on a roadtrip, I can now testify that visiting 12 people along the way more than makes up for it.
Here are the highlights from my mini-adventure, starting with Thursday morning:
I left late, of course, and drove a little bit faster so I'd be on time for lunch with Todd in Pittsburgh. Todd's a friend from high school, church, and camp, and he's currently getting his Masters of Geniusness from Carnegie Mellon. I managed to get to Pittsburgh on schedule, only to have my GPS spaz out due to Pittsburgh's screwy infrastructure, which made me late for lunch. If someone could let me know what drunken fool designed Pittsburgh's roads and bridges, I'd appreciate it. Anyways, Todd and I met on CMU's campus and had a great lunch at some little cafe/restaurant in CMU's sprawling campus center. Despite my GPS pitching a fit, lunch with Todd was an excellent start to my travels.
Next stop: Gettysburg College. I drove through a persistent rainfall during the four hour trip from Pittsburgh to Gettysburg that afternoon. [Total hours in the car on Thursday=7.] The drive itself was super gorgeous, even with the bad weather. Once I got off the PA Turnpike, I drove on the Lincoln Highway for part of the way to Gettysburg. This highway cuts through some beautiful mountains. As in, let's drive up a mountain! Ok, let's go down. Oh hey, another mountain to climb! Repeat. Driving down the mountains, I kept seeing signs about reducing the gear for your vehicle, which I assumed applied only to truckers. Wrong. I realized near the end of this little roller coaster ride this actually meant cars needed to downshift when going down the mountains, that's how steep it was! I'm lucky my car still has functioning brakes.
I reached Gettysburg in time for dinner with Linnea and Liz. Their college's cafeteria has a gluten-free section, which they were psyched to show me.
SIDENOTE: I love that my friends frequently call or text me when they see the words "gluten-free" plastered on anything. [That statement wasn't even entirely sarcastic. Sometimes it can be endearing.] For any of you out there who are concerned your friends may forget about you, simply get a weird disease and they will surely think of you anytime they come across that disease during their lifetime.
Hanging out with Linnea and Liz on Thursday and Friday was great. I got an exceptional tour of their campus (which included a stop by some famous haunted building I've seen before on the History Channel!), learned all about the Battle of Gettysburg at a museum downtown, had lunch at Gettysburg Eddie's, and toured the battlefield. If you weren't aware, the efforts to preserve and memorialize the battle have been pretty extraordinary. If you haven't visited Gettysburg yet, go! Now!
Actually, you should wait. Wait for Spring. It's about to get uncomfortably cold around those parts.
I left Gettysburg early Friday afternoon for the University of Maryland to see the one and only Clare Bubniak! Clare's a friend from camp; we were on staff together in 2010. We walked around campus, mocked the Occupy Wall Street protest that was taking place in the middle of the quad (about a dozen subdued protesters hanging out in the center of an unquestionably liberal institution - not exactly a striking demonstration), and got coffee, of course. We happened to meet a celebrity while drinking coffee and catching up. That's right, THE University of Maryland mascot came up to us, and we took a picture with.. him? her? It's impossible to tell. I think it was some kind of bird. Maybe not. As you can tell from my stellar description, it was quite unforgettable.
After Clare and I circled the parking garage my hoarder car was parked in, we finally located it and I took off for Vienna, VA. I got there a little over an hour later, and I spent Friday night through Sunday evening with my friend Matt (from Allegheny). Matt was the unofficial fifth roommate in my apartment senior year of college, who'd show up to watch hours of House with us and graciously help us eat food whenever Becky went on baking sprees. Our weekend consisted of: a wine bar (to pretend we're classy grown-ups), the best gelato I've had on this side of the pond, Superhero Movie Marathon Day (when it SNOWED! all day Saturday in the DC area), cigars and scotch, church, and watching the Steelers game over dinner with Ryan Cole at a brewery in DC. Ryan's another Allegheny friend, and will someday be Mayor of Meadville. If I recall correctly, he agreed I could run his campaign.
This concludes part one of my trip. To be continued..
On leaving New York last Thursday, I had two options: 1). put the pedal to the metal and haul it down to South Carolina, or 2). meander slowly down the East Coast, visiting a dozen friends "on the way." This was not a difficult decision. Roadtrips are glorious. That being said, I must admit that it would've been nicer not to have to drag most of my worldly possessions along with me on this trip. My car was rather full, to put it mildly. As in, I felt slightly claustrophobic at times as my stuff hemmed me in on all sides.
However, I wasn't about to let claustrophobia or "unsafe driving conditions" - a.k.a. not being able to see much out the rear window - rain on my parade. Or the fact that I had to do this roadtrip on my own because my stuff took over my car. If you can't fit a friend in the car with you on a roadtrip, I can now testify that visiting 12 people along the way more than makes up for it.
Here are the highlights from my mini-adventure, starting with Thursday morning:
I left late, of course, and drove a little bit faster so I'd be on time for lunch with Todd in Pittsburgh. Todd's a friend from high school, church, and camp, and he's currently getting his Masters of Geniusness from Carnegie Mellon. I managed to get to Pittsburgh on schedule, only to have my GPS spaz out due to Pittsburgh's screwy infrastructure, which made me late for lunch. If someone could let me know what drunken fool designed Pittsburgh's roads and bridges, I'd appreciate it. Anyways, Todd and I met on CMU's campus and had a great lunch at some little cafe/restaurant in CMU's sprawling campus center. Despite my GPS pitching a fit, lunch with Todd was an excellent start to my travels.
Next stop: Gettysburg College. I drove through a persistent rainfall during the four hour trip from Pittsburgh to Gettysburg that afternoon. [Total hours in the car on Thursday=7.] The drive itself was super gorgeous, even with the bad weather. Once I got off the PA Turnpike, I drove on the Lincoln Highway for part of the way to Gettysburg. This highway cuts through some beautiful mountains. As in, let's drive up a mountain! Ok, let's go down. Oh hey, another mountain to climb! Repeat. Driving down the mountains, I kept seeing signs about reducing the gear for your vehicle, which I assumed applied only to truckers. Wrong. I realized near the end of this little roller coaster ride this actually meant cars needed to downshift when going down the mountains, that's how steep it was! I'm lucky my car still has functioning brakes.
I reached Gettysburg in time for dinner with Linnea and Liz. Their college's cafeteria has a gluten-free section, which they were psyched to show me.
SIDENOTE: I love that my friends frequently call or text me when they see the words "gluten-free" plastered on anything. [That statement wasn't even entirely sarcastic. Sometimes it can be endearing.] For any of you out there who are concerned your friends may forget about you, simply get a weird disease and they will surely think of you anytime they come across that disease during their lifetime.
Hanging out with Linnea and Liz on Thursday and Friday was great. I got an exceptional tour of their campus (which included a stop by some famous haunted building I've seen before on the History Channel!), learned all about the Battle of Gettysburg at a museum downtown, had lunch at Gettysburg Eddie's, and toured the battlefield. If you weren't aware, the efforts to preserve and memorialize the battle have been pretty extraordinary. If you haven't visited Gettysburg yet, go! Now!
Actually, you should wait. Wait for Spring. It's about to get uncomfortably cold around those parts.
I left Gettysburg early Friday afternoon for the University of Maryland to see the one and only Clare Bubniak! Clare's a friend from camp; we were on staff together in 2010. We walked around campus, mocked the Occupy Wall Street protest that was taking place in the middle of the quad (about a dozen subdued protesters hanging out in the center of an unquestionably liberal institution - not exactly a striking demonstration), and got coffee, of course. We happened to meet a celebrity while drinking coffee and catching up. That's right, THE University of Maryland mascot came up to us, and we took a picture with.. him? her? It's impossible to tell. I think it was some kind of bird. Maybe not. As you can tell from my stellar description, it was quite unforgettable.
After Clare and I circled the parking garage my hoarder car was parked in, we finally located it and I took off for Vienna, VA. I got there a little over an hour later, and I spent Friday night through Sunday evening with my friend Matt (from Allegheny). Matt was the unofficial fifth roommate in my apartment senior year of college, who'd show up to watch hours of House with us and graciously help us eat food whenever Becky went on baking sprees. Our weekend consisted of: a wine bar (to pretend we're classy grown-ups), the best gelato I've had on this side of the pond, Superhero Movie Marathon Day (when it SNOWED! all day Saturday in the DC area), cigars and scotch, church, and watching the Steelers game over dinner with Ryan Cole at a brewery in DC. Ryan's another Allegheny friend, and will someday be Mayor of Meadville. If I recall correctly, he agreed I could run his campaign.
This concludes part one of my trip. To be continued..
10.27.2011
the inevitable goodbye post
I am a New Yorker, born and raised. (This has nothing to do with the NYC New Yorker of course; that's a different brand altogether.)
I was born on Ellis Avenue in Jamestown, NY. I'd show you the house I grew up in if I could; it's still perfect in my mind.
When I was four or five, living at Ellis, my dad taught me how to ride a bike. As soon as I caught on, I rode that bike around and around the block until dusk, when my parents called me inside. They didn't let me cross any streets at first, so I just circled the block, deliriously happy with my first taste of independence and adventure.
I am twenty-four now. I spent my first 18 years in Jamestown and Bemus until I left for college. Many college-bound kids (or young adults?? Whatever fits..) hardly glance back here as they move away for college and then jobs. It's hardly a secret that this area is, and has been, choking economically for a while. It doesn't draw many college grads back.
It drew me back. This area has pulled on my heart since my childhood. It's hard to place a finger on why it has a hold on me. Is it the natural beauty in this region, all the history, the determination of this area to keep struggling through this tough time and not give up, or just the simple fact that this is the community that raised me?
Whatever it was, I've been here for nearly 2 1/2 years since graduating from Allegheny. It's been a fantastic time. I built up a life here. I found my place in the community. I even put together a (very complex, very extended, and very hard to explain) fake family up here, beyond my already existing - and wonderful - real family members. I survived as a quasi grown-up as well, with a job, a (3 minute!) commute, a lunch hour, laundry days, grocery shopping, health insurance, dinner parties...the list of Grown-Up Achievements goes on and on.
All of this in my hometown in New York.
Last night, as the rain pattered on the roof and my car sat in the garage - packed to the hilt and ready for my roadtrip down the East Coast - I searched within me for that four year old Rachel who could not stop grinning as she celebrated her new-found independence by biking around the block again and again.
That thirst for adventure and exploration has never left me. It waxes and wanes, but it's always there. The many hard goodbyes I've gone through over the past week and a half could easily have overwhelmed me with sadness or a sense of bitterness on leaving. My attachment to my New York roots could have disillusioned me as I prepared to go from this place. The monumental changes I'm pushing through could have made me so uncomfortable and agitated that I could've just thrown in the towel and clung to the old, familiar, well-known life I've carved out here.
But there's no joy in any of those options, no adventure, nothing new to learn. My time here is done, and God's beckoning me to other places, other people, another life, a new challenge.
Thank you, New York. Thank you, everyone who remains here and helped make this place home to me. It's still a little surreal that this chapter's over, but it's time for me to set my sails and catch the wind blowing toward my next adventure.
I was born on Ellis Avenue in Jamestown, NY. I'd show you the house I grew up in if I could; it's still perfect in my mind.
When I was four or five, living at Ellis, my dad taught me how to ride a bike. As soon as I caught on, I rode that bike around and around the block until dusk, when my parents called me inside. They didn't let me cross any streets at first, so I just circled the block, deliriously happy with my first taste of independence and adventure.
I am twenty-four now. I spent my first 18 years in Jamestown and Bemus until I left for college. Many college-bound kids (or young adults?? Whatever fits..) hardly glance back here as they move away for college and then jobs. It's hardly a secret that this area is, and has been, choking economically for a while. It doesn't draw many college grads back.
It drew me back. This area has pulled on my heart since my childhood. It's hard to place a finger on why it has a hold on me. Is it the natural beauty in this region, all the history, the determination of this area to keep struggling through this tough time and not give up, or just the simple fact that this is the community that raised me?
Whatever it was, I've been here for nearly 2 1/2 years since graduating from Allegheny. It's been a fantastic time. I built up a life here. I found my place in the community. I even put together a (very complex, very extended, and very hard to explain) fake family up here, beyond my already existing - and wonderful - real family members. I survived as a quasi grown-up as well, with a job, a (3 minute!) commute, a lunch hour, laundry days, grocery shopping, health insurance, dinner parties...the list of Grown-Up Achievements goes on and on.
All of this in my hometown in New York.
Last night, as the rain pattered on the roof and my car sat in the garage - packed to the hilt and ready for my roadtrip down the East Coast - I searched within me for that four year old Rachel who could not stop grinning as she celebrated her new-found independence by biking around the block again and again.
That thirst for adventure and exploration has never left me. It waxes and wanes, but it's always there. The many hard goodbyes I've gone through over the past week and a half could easily have overwhelmed me with sadness or a sense of bitterness on leaving. My attachment to my New York roots could have disillusioned me as I prepared to go from this place. The monumental changes I'm pushing through could have made me so uncomfortable and agitated that I could've just thrown in the towel and clung to the old, familiar, well-known life I've carved out here.
But there's no joy in any of those options, no adventure, nothing new to learn. My time here is done, and God's beckoning me to other places, other people, another life, a new challenge.
Thank you, New York. Thank you, everyone who remains here and helped make this place home to me. It's still a little surreal that this chapter's over, but it's time for me to set my sails and catch the wind blowing toward my next adventure.
10.03.2011
time to pick up a new book
Considering the super short length of my last post, I've decided to step it up and write a bit more about my current state of transition/general upheaval.
I am (more or less) settled in at my fake parents' house in Bemus. My room is packed with all my belongings, which has led to two realizations:
1). I am very thankful to my fake parents for giving me a room that is so large.
2). Regardless of how well I thought I was doing with living simply and not getting bogged down with lots of stuff, I still need to get rid of some things. There is absolutely zero chance at fitting all my things into my car, unless I start strapping stuff to the roof. Maybe the sides too.
It's very strange not to be in the apartment anymore with Laura. I realized that my one year in the apartment is the longest amount of time I've spent in one residence for a long time - since 2005, when I was still in high school, living with my parents. Ever since then, the longest I've lived in a dorm, apartment, house (or camp) has been nine months. I feel a little misplaced and rootless right now. I have already begun focusing more on what's coming up (2 more moves in 3 months - first to Charleston, then Chicago) than what's going on here.
I haven't completely checked out of the present yet, but I can feel the undercurrents of the future pulling me in. I know that if I spend too much time thinking about this place - about my life here - about all I'm leaving behind - I would end up feeling rather uneasy and unhealthily nostalgic.
Most things in my present life have become too easy, too comfortable, too familiar. It's like reading an old, worn-in novel I've read a hundred times before, only there are slight variations thrown in each time I open it and reread it. I get a warm, comfortable feeling while reading it because there are so many parts and characters I love in this novel. I can even read between the lines and predict what's coming on the next page.
Which is part of why I need to go. I need to pick up a new book, meet some new characters, be astonished by plot twists and adventures I never even saw coming. It's strange to leave a place, a life, where things are going well and I've settled into my niche. Leaving when things are difficult hardly even requires common sense; choosing to leave when things are good takes a little bit of irrationality. You're giving up something concrete and established and navigable for a vision, a glimmer of hope, that there's something else out there in the world for you. Something you can't even begin to imagine, but you've somehow been missing that thing all along.
I get to ease into a new life, a new city, a new daily rhythm. Same old me, at least it will be at the start. Parts of me will be reshaped and remolded by my brand new world, and I think that's a good thing. Too much of the same makes things stale or bitter, and I can't stomach either.
Keep me in mind as I get through these next few months. Trading in my old, familiar novel for the newest book in this series is going to be surprisingly difficult sometimes. Remind me that the adventure's worth it in the end and that unless a person chooses to give into fear of the unknown and unfamiliar, it has no hold over them.
Here's to a fearless transition to my next adventure.
I am (more or less) settled in at my fake parents' house in Bemus. My room is packed with all my belongings, which has led to two realizations:
1). I am very thankful to my fake parents for giving me a room that is so large.
2). Regardless of how well I thought I was doing with living simply and not getting bogged down with lots of stuff, I still need to get rid of some things. There is absolutely zero chance at fitting all my things into my car, unless I start strapping stuff to the roof. Maybe the sides too.
It's very strange not to be in the apartment anymore with Laura. I realized that my one year in the apartment is the longest amount of time I've spent in one residence for a long time - since 2005, when I was still in high school, living with my parents. Ever since then, the longest I've lived in a dorm, apartment, house (or camp) has been nine months. I feel a little misplaced and rootless right now. I have already begun focusing more on what's coming up (2 more moves in 3 months - first to Charleston, then Chicago) than what's going on here.
I haven't completely checked out of the present yet, but I can feel the undercurrents of the future pulling me in. I know that if I spend too much time thinking about this place - about my life here - about all I'm leaving behind - I would end up feeling rather uneasy and unhealthily nostalgic.
Most things in my present life have become too easy, too comfortable, too familiar. It's like reading an old, worn-in novel I've read a hundred times before, only there are slight variations thrown in each time I open it and reread it. I get a warm, comfortable feeling while reading it because there are so many parts and characters I love in this novel. I can even read between the lines and predict what's coming on the next page.
Which is part of why I need to go. I need to pick up a new book, meet some new characters, be astonished by plot twists and adventures I never even saw coming. It's strange to leave a place, a life, where things are going well and I've settled into my niche. Leaving when things are difficult hardly even requires common sense; choosing to leave when things are good takes a little bit of irrationality. You're giving up something concrete and established and navigable for a vision, a glimmer of hope, that there's something else out there in the world for you. Something you can't even begin to imagine, but you've somehow been missing that thing all along.
I get to ease into a new life, a new city, a new daily rhythm. Same old me, at least it will be at the start. Parts of me will be reshaped and remolded by my brand new world, and I think that's a good thing. Too much of the same makes things stale or bitter, and I can't stomach either.
Keep me in mind as I get through these next few months. Trading in my old, familiar novel for the newest book in this series is going to be surprisingly difficult sometimes. Remind me that the adventure's worth it in the end and that unless a person chooses to give into fear of the unknown and unfamiliar, it has no hold over them.
Here's to a fearless transition to my next adventure.
9.30.2011
and it all falls away
Today, I am 0 days away from moving out of my apartment (as in, I am most likely frantically packing and throwing things into my car as we speak). I am 27 days away from fleeing the North for the remainder of the year. I am (approximately) 91 days away from moving to Chicago to start grad school.
Enough change for you?
I’m on the edge of the abyss right now, with everything that is safe and comfortable and predictable behind me and beneath my feet. Wish me luck as I take a deep breath and jump.
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