January 1 is a day for new beginnings. And begin anew I did. I piled into my Mazda Protégé (138k miles and counting) and drove the two hours to my new home in Atlanta.
Wow. I’d forgotten I-75 had 10 glorious lanes of traffic for a space there. I’d forgotten how the tree-covered hills simply undulated across the landscape. I’d forgotten the skyline, and caught my breath as I crested the hill on I-20 that suddenly shows the whole thing all at once.
Two years in Kansas City was about three years too long. Potholes, snow, ice, and barren, featureless plains stretching as far as the eye can see – it’s enough to make a Georgia boy spiral into depression. I thoroughly enjoyed the people in Kansas City, but really, there’s more to a city than the people.
My best friend has a house in Marietta with a spare bedroom. When I was thinking about leaving Kansas City, I gave him a call. Dann understands me, and understands Kansas City. He came to visit me a year ago. (“They had a tree in their backyard. It was the main distinguishing mark of the entire neighborhood,” he tells people.) He offered to let me live with him for a while. “How much advance notice do I have to give you?” “About a day and a half,” he said. Aren’t best friends great?
Anyway, it was another six months or so after that call before I finally left KC. I kept trying new job leads, and kept hoping something would work out, and then I just decided to quit my job right before Christmas, spend several weeks with my family in Iowa and Alabama, and then move in after the first of the year.
I showed up at his door about 1 p.m., and he helped me unload all my books and clothes and take it to the bedroom upstairs. (Despite being out of college for nearly five years now, I still own no furniture other than a halogen lamp and a computer chair – I do, however, own entirely too many books.)
As I sat on my sleeping bag and looked around at my new (lavender-painted!) room, I reacquainted myself with Sifa. Sifa is Dann’s cat. She is a beautiful blue-eyed beige-colored stray that hung around our front door in KC. When Dann came for his visit, he immediately fell in love, bought a carrier, and adopted her on the spot. She purrs more than any cat I know – much, much more than my sister’s cat Sihn, with whom I had just spent a week in Alabama. It’ll be great living with a cat again – it’s been entirely too many years since we gave Rusty away when I was a sophomore in high school.
Dann’s fiance, Pan, joined us for dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant. (No, she’s not Vietnamese. She’s Thai.) They’re planning to be married in May. Where will I go once she moves in?
“Oh, no problem,” Dann had said. “She’ll be in my room. You can still stay in yours.”
“Um, have you asked Pan about this arrangement?”
“No, but, I mean, come on, what’s she going to say? No?”
“Well, I’ll just make arrangements to move out once you get married, anyway. Just to be on the safe side.”
It’s good to be in the South again.
Wow. I’d forgotten I-75 had 10 glorious lanes of traffic for a space there. I’d forgotten how the tree-covered hills simply undulated across the landscape. I’d forgotten the skyline, and caught my breath as I crested the hill on I-20 that suddenly shows the whole thing all at once.
Two years in Kansas City was about three years too long. Potholes, snow, ice, and barren, featureless plains stretching as far as the eye can see – it’s enough to make a Georgia boy spiral into depression. I thoroughly enjoyed the people in Kansas City, but really, there’s more to a city than the people.
My best friend has a house in Marietta with a spare bedroom. When I was thinking about leaving Kansas City, I gave him a call. Dann understands me, and understands Kansas City. He came to visit me a year ago. (“They had a tree in their backyard. It was the main distinguishing mark of the entire neighborhood,” he tells people.) He offered to let me live with him for a while. “How much advance notice do I have to give you?” “About a day and a half,” he said. Aren’t best friends great?
Anyway, it was another six months or so after that call before I finally left KC. I kept trying new job leads, and kept hoping something would work out, and then I just decided to quit my job right before Christmas, spend several weeks with my family in Iowa and Alabama, and then move in after the first of the year.
I showed up at his door about 1 p.m., and he helped me unload all my books and clothes and take it to the bedroom upstairs. (Despite being out of college for nearly five years now, I still own no furniture other than a halogen lamp and a computer chair – I do, however, own entirely too many books.)
As I sat on my sleeping bag and looked around at my new (lavender-painted!) room, I reacquainted myself with Sifa. Sifa is Dann’s cat. She is a beautiful blue-eyed beige-colored stray that hung around our front door in KC. When Dann came for his visit, he immediately fell in love, bought a carrier, and adopted her on the spot. She purrs more than any cat I know – much, much more than my sister’s cat Sihn, with whom I had just spent a week in Alabama. It’ll be great living with a cat again – it’s been entirely too many years since we gave Rusty away when I was a sophomore in high school.
Dann’s fiance, Pan, joined us for dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant. (No, she’s not Vietnamese. She’s Thai.) They’re planning to be married in May. Where will I go once she moves in?
“Oh, no problem,” Dann had said. “She’ll be in my room. You can still stay in yours.”
“Um, have you asked Pan about this arrangement?”
“No, but, I mean, come on, what’s she going to say? No?”
“Well, I’ll just make arrangements to move out once you get married, anyway. Just to be on the safe side.”
It’s good to be in the South again.
posted by Mark at 1/01/2004 10:53:00 PM
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