It’s really good to be back home. Don’t get me wrong, there are things that suck about it, but they’re so drastically different than my problems in the South.
I watched “My Girlfriend’s Boyfriend,” stand-up/story telling with Mike Birbiglia. I’ll have to do a review for The ‘Loon. Anyway, Birbigs is in Seattle when he’s performing, and he stops his show to run off-stage and hold up a guy’s foot so the audience can see this guy is wearing “no shoes and no socks.” An audience heckler says something that Birbigs agrees to “only in Seaattle.” It would also happen here, to clarify. Then Birbigs describes a stand-up tour he did some years ago in Texas, and you can tell that Birbigs doesn’t want to offend people…but he really does NOT like it there.
“I developed a small drinking problem while I was there,” he says. “Which is common in the South.”
Those two paragraphs pretty much describe my experiences between the PNW (Pacific Northwest) and Texas (although I tried not to drink on work nights and NEVER tequila). This is not to say there aren’t things I miss about Texas. There are more things I missed about home. I did notice the other day when I got mad, I started this angry drawl in the car by myself. I wonder how long that will last. I also miss the speed limit, and people who drive it. There are not enough lanes with high speed here, and driving lower than my usual speed makes me cranky since I’m an already impatient person.
I’m tapering off medication, and my doctor really does not want me drinking. So to sum up my problems here: don’t drink for awhile, I’m broke, and I’m unemployed. These are all things I’m working on (except the not drinking which is already in effect I’m just going to continue to not do it). I can’t tell you how many hooker jokes I’ve made, but I’ve only made them to Parker, so I think it’s okay. And to you guys in my conversation while job hunting.
I am really glad to be back, but it’s hard to go places with people when you have no money AND you can’t drink. Fairly certain that our friends offered us wine, and now I haven’t heard back from them. I’m making an exception for the reunion, because I purchased tickets, so in this equation, it’s okay to break the drinking rule too. It’s one night.
Being home, as Birbigs will attest, has given me less inclination to drink. It’s much easier here when I start counting my friends in town, because unlike the South, half of them or more are not alcoholic beverages. Also, we’re too poor to drink here. I will say that to my knowledge Pabst Blue Ribbon is on sale at Walgreen’s, an 18 pack for $9.99. I missed Suicide Awareness Week, but apparently, I do have to inform you of PBR, because I live in Oregon now. So belatedly, DON’T kill yourself. I even read an online article about a woman whose dentist thought she died and actually HUGGED her when she found out it wasn’t true. Someone will miss you. *I* will miss you. Like my blog, and I’ll consider that your wink of understanding and agreement to not kill yourself. Even if you weren’t thinking about it, in case I wondered.
I will say this: I am glad to be alive, and being away from home didn’t always make me feel that way. Being home does make me happy to be alive.
It’s hard explaining all this to people. I don’t like pity or charity. I wouldn’t even let Bea buy me lunch the other day which I think hurt her feelings. Since we moved home, my friends are expecting me to initiate hang outs. We don’t have our own place, I can’t drink, and we’re broke. On the bright side, I’m not pregnant, even though my mom keeps asking me if I am (and talking about babies so much I’m starting to wonder if there’s an object one can hold up that makes people STOP talking about them. Maybe the cat would work, since she’s loud. That would require me to take her every time I see or talk to my mom. Way too much cat interaction).
There are also things I KNOW here. I know where I want to go for my birthday. I know where we’d like to go for our anniversary. I know the cheaper grocery store, and I know where to look for fun activities. I know where I’ll get towed, and I know where I have to pay for parking. I know where all the freeways connect even if I’ve forgotten some of the names. Instead of wondering what we could do outside the house, we think about all the places we could eat and see in the city if we had money. Sometimes, we just drive by places and point out all the moments of our youth and what places USED to be. It turns out I’m the most sentimental lazy person ever.
It’s weird how you appreciate something more when it goes away and then comes back.