It Doesn't Matter Where You Live..

I’m still constantly surprised by Midwestern weather. Last week, we were struggling with near 100 degrees and high humidity. Today, it’s rainy, grey and a was around 64 degrees all day.

I’m not complaining. In fact, even though I’ve lived here for almost 3 years now, it still delights me that the weather can change that much. As I’ve said before, it’s nice to have variety and for the eight years I lived in L.A., I certainly got tired of those sunny days. I even got tired of the days that started out gloomy and finally got sunny later on because there was never any real promise of rain: There was only the empty tease.

There are a lot of differences living in the Midwest to California. Not all of them are good but I still wouldn’t move back for anything. I do miss the ocean being within a 45 minute drive. I miss seeing the mountains that were tinged purple on clear sunny mornings. I miss the rosemary that grows wild everywhere and the fact that, even in December, there are flowers blooming.

What I don’t miss is the traffic. When I talk to candidates who are looking for new jobs, many of them find themselves job seeking because they have to commute downtown to Cincinnati and as soon as I hear that, they immediately have my sympathies. I’m lucky enough to live six minutes from work nowadays but for the time I lived in L.A., my commute being little over 14 miles took me at least an hour each way and that was when traffic was actually moving.

I also don’t miss the expense. I’m still constantly amazed that my mortgage payment is still less than that which I paid for rent. In fact, in 2001, what I paid for my first little studio apartment in North Hollywood is approximately the same as my house payment now.

I could spend this entire blog on the good and bad differences I find between L.A. and the Midwest but, really, I don’t want to because I’m content where I am. The only thing I really miss is the more open, single culture of L.A. As I’ve said before, being in my mid-thirties in the Midwest makes me a bit of a weirdo and, gasp, bordering on spinster territory. In L.A., it was, dare I say it, very normal.

This doesn’t make the Midwest bad- it’s just different. I know someone from high school who is a grandmother at my age. Here, it’s very traditional to get married and have a family at a much younger age than in big cities. It doesn’t bother me except when it comes to making friends. When I first moved here, two of my similar-aged, married coworkers used to invite me to their houses to hang out with them, their spouses and another member of their ‘gang’- a single woman who, like me, wasn’t married. It was nice, at first until I realized that I was being invited so that the other single woman didn’t feel like a third wheel and she had ‘a buddy’. I know this because I accidentally overheard it one day.

It bothered me just a little. I wanted to make friends because they liked me, not because I made an even number of people. Over time, I stopped getting invited and, in time, I was treated like an ‘outsider’ at work when the three women got together. Because it felt like a high school mentality, it irritated me for a long time. It was clearly a clique and I wasn’t ‘cool’ enough to belong. Fortunately, since they all acted a little like children who had decided they were the Coolest Gang on the plant, I got bored.

As such, I ended up actually making friends with two of my other coworkers. They were both a little older than me- one married, one divorced…both great women. It took a little trial and error but, with patience, I got it right in the end.

Now I’ve been here a while, it doesn’t really bother me that I’m single. It’s interesting- in my current office, only two of my seven coworkers are actually married. Two of the others live with significant others and three of us are single. It’s just a different environment.

Granted, it still doesn’t make me ‘normal’ according the median age of married couples around here but it still helps.

In truth, what I’ve figured out and what it took me years to figure out was, in truth, where you live isn’t as important as being happy where you live. I fit in more in L.A. I liked the geography. I miss my friends. There are even occasional days during weeks of nothing but rain, I miss the sun of L.A.

Yet, despite all that, I never felt as content and happy there as I have in the time I’ve lived back in Ohio. It’s not just being a homeowner. It’s not just having two fantastic pups. It’s not even having my family within a decent driving distance.

It’s just that I feel like I’ve found myself here. I’ve never felt as relaxed and content with myself and where I live than I have in the past two years.

And no matter how great L.A. is/was…nothing and nowhere can replace that feeling.

Happy Thursday

Happy "Puppiversary" to Us!

I did not dream of zombies last night. I was actually quite pleased about this although I did have rather a detailed dream about work which I’m not sure if it was much of an improvement. If I’d have still been at my old job, I could have argued that it was actually still about zombies due to the rather uninspired atmosphere at that place.

The rain has stopped. It’s now snowing. I sometimes forget that the seasons are a little schizophrenic in the Midwest and that even though it’s 60 degrees one day, the next it can be 30 degrees and snowy. I don’t know how I actually forget this but I do.

It definitely keeps things interesting, at least. You never quite know what the weather will do next. I still make the mistake of listening to Mr. Weatherman in the mornings but that doesn’t exactly help. He’s wrong at least 50% of the time.

Even with the rather varied weather we’ve had, this week has actually gone quite quickly. I can’t actually believe it’s Friday tomorrow which is a bit of an usual thing. I’m definitely not complaining that it’s Friday tomorrow. I’m a big fan of Fridays. I like Fridays as much as I dislike Mondays.

This Friday- tomorrow- is actually a significant Friday for me. It marks that day that, one year ago, I picked up a little puppy named Sookie and took her home. On Saturday, it’s the anniversary of the day that I went and picked up her sister, Rory, because it seemed so cruel to separate them. Also, Rory’s big, sweet eyes that seemed to say, “Pick Me! Choose Me!” when I got to choose between her and Sookie made me feel guilty because I didn’t pick her at first.

I remember being a little nervous as my mother and I went to Walmart to get some supplies for Sookie when she came home. When we went to get Sookie, it was a little unnerving to go down the muddy, unfinished driveway of the house where she lived and discover that she was living at an unofficial ‘dog shelter.’ There was a pack of scary dogs that roamed loose on the property of the old farmhouse and who chased my car down the drive, trying to bite my tires. I remember being nervous as I got out the car in case the dogs were vicious but they weren’t…they were just unruly. Then, when I went inside, I discovered that not only was there a Sookie but she had a sister and I got to choose which one I took home. I picked Sookie because she came to me and let me pick her up whereas Rory was easily distracted by the Maltese puppy in the room. At the time, I knew I was going to feel bad about separating the pair which was evidenced by my calling later that night after Sookie was home to find out if Rory was still there. She was but she’d been promised to someone else.

I was sad but Sookie and my first night together was nice enough. I had a writer’s conference the next day and I hated leaving my new puppy with her ‘grandparents’ but I’d already made the commitment to a friend that I’d go with her to the conference. While the conference was a bit of a waste of time, I got a phone call in the middle of a session that made it worthwhile: Rory’s new owners didn’t show up to pick her up and, if I was still interested, she could be mine.

I needed no further enticement. Back to the scary, dog-infested farmhouse I went and Rory came home with me. Now I can’t imagine every just having one puppy.

Now, one year later, they’re not really puppies anymore even though I still think of them as such. I can’t believe that I was worried about the responsibility of having a dog. I remember that even though I was excited about getting a puppy, I was also afraid that it would not only tie me down but that I would be a horrible pet parent.

I’ve found that one year later, I don’t feel tied down at all. Instead, I have these lovely, furry, snuggly additions to my life that have just become…part of my life. They’re as part of me and my daily routine as eating and drinking are. I wake up with at least one of them under the covers, head snuggled under my chin every day. I go home at lunch each day to let them out and, each time, when I come home from somewhere…anywhere, there they are, tails wagging, jumping up and down as if to say, “Where have you BEEN? We MISSED you!”

It’s nice to be missed and to come home to see those bright eyes and wagging tails. Even on the worst of days, having a dog to lick you on the nose and sit on your lap makes everything better.

My fear about being a horrible pet parent seems to have been a little paranoid. Since they’re both healthy, seemingly happy and alive after a year, I must have done something right.

Also, they seem to really like me so I figure that’s a good sign.

I feel like I should do something this weekend to celebrate our ‘puppiversary’. Maybe we’ll go for a long walk over the woods to check out the floods. Last time we went, it was pretty bad but with all the rain we’ve had, I’m sure it’s going to be worse now. Of course, they won’t know what we’re celebrating but I don’t suppose that matters. A walk will make us all happy and give us time to spend together and, honestly, what better way to celebrate is that?

Happy Friday and have a great weekend!

Bad Driving Blues....

As a former L.A. driver, I thought when I moved back to the midwest, it might be a little safer to drive on the roads, not to mention a lot faster to get from one place to another. I should have known from my earlier Midwestern days that while the latter might be mostly true, the former...is not.

My initial delusion is forgivable, I think. After all, L.A. drivers are...bad. There are certain things that I've seen in my days of driving in Los Angeles that are definitely the marks of driving in a city. For example, a friend emailed me yesterday to complain about drivers who think that because they use their turn signal, they have the right to change to whatever lane they choose to drive in, regardless of whether anyone is in their way. I had to sympathize with her; I've seen this many a time and it's always a little terrifying when the car next to you suddenly decides it wants to be where you are. And so the driver attempts to do so, ignoring the fact that...well...you're already there. Without some swift defensive driving, there is no way to avoid the inevitable collision if that driver decides he must, indeed, change lanes.

Though, I did remind her that the fact he actually used a turn signal was a privilege. So many new cars seem to come without turn signals these days, have you noticed? I wouldn't dare assume that so many drivers just don't know how to use one, it must be the car...right?

Ultimately, I think my friends complaint comes down to the overwhelming sense of entitlement that affects so many drivers in L.A. They get impatient because THEY have somewhere to be. You see this the most on the freeways. During morning rush hour, the only thing to do is to have patience. Traffic isn't going to move any more quickly if you get impatient. And yet, some people still haven't learned this and so you see what I call 'the lane shuffle' in which a car will attempt to outrun you by hopping, Frogger-style, from lane-to-lane. Most drivers watch this with amusement because they know that Mr. Frogger won't get there any more quickly than anyone else. This is usually proven moments later when Mr. Frogger realizes he wants to exit and is now stuck in the lane furthest away from the off ramp. Thus begins his game of 'reverse frogger'. Sometimes they make it, sometimes they don't. If he doesn't make it, often he'll honk and yell at everyone for making him miss his exit.

Drivers like Mr. Frogger seem to forget that they are not the only drivers on the road, nor are they the only ones with somewhere to be. When I first moved to L.A., I would get panicked in the mornings on the way to work if I got stuck in traffic. I hate being late, you see. Soon after, I learned that virtually everyone in the city has to commute from somewhere and being late is acceptable if it's due to traffic.

Moving back to the Midwest has given me a new perspective on driving, I have to say. I do love that sometimes, especially on the way to my parent's, I'm the only driver on the road. I can drive for up to ten minutes without seeing another driver. Yet, there are still bad drivers here.

Recently, I've noticed something that is fast becoming a pet-peeve of mine. It's usually concerning pick-up truck drivers or, sometimes, SUV drivers. You see, I get stuck behind them on the road. I'm not a Speedy-Gonzales driver by any means but I do like to at least go the speed limit. I usually go 60 or, at the fastest, 65 in a 55 zone. I know, technically, that's speeding but it just doesn't seem that fast. Anyway, when I get behind these drivers, they 're usually going about 45 or 50 mph in a 55 zone. I can deal with this a little better if they're old. It's probably a form of ageism or whatever but I tend to cut older drivers a little more slack.

It's the young couples I can't stand because what they're doing is having a conversation. I can hear you saying..."So?". Well, the thing is that they're trying to have it face to face while driving. Yes, you can actually see the driver constantly turning to face his partner as he tries to steer his truck. While I'm an advocate of manners, there's also such a thing as common sense and, call me crazy, but you'd think that while you were driving a big old pick-up truck, not crashing it might be the priority rather than staring at your lovely lass while you chat.

If it had only happened once, it would be ok. It's happened about six times in two weeks. It's usually on a busy two-lane highway so I can't pass. Instead, I get to watch John-Boy and Mary-Jane having a good old chat.

I should probably be more sympathetic because, after all, it is the Midwest and people take things slower here. I probably would be except that usually when I'm stuck behind one of these drivers, there is a parade of cars behind me all riding one another's bumper. Having been rear-ended during my first month in Ohio, I'm a wee bit weary of people being too close on my tail these days. I can still hear that crunch and feel the thud of being hit if I close my eyes. I don't want it to happen again. I usually leave at least a car length between me and the car in front of me these days, just in case I do get rear-ended again.

Yet I can't do anything about the parade of cars behind me. If John-Boy and Mary-Jane continue their conversation and he suddenly puts on his breaks, he's not getting hit, I am. Hence my dislike of getting stuck behind them.

There are other bad drivers here and they're not just limited to the roads. This morning, I almost got slammed in the carpark of my apartment building. Every morning, I pass by a driver that is speeding through, on her way to pick up someone. This morning, the sun was in her eyes. I know this because she was shielding them. She was still going at least 25 mph in a 5 mph zone. She didn't see me. I swerved, she just missed me. She barely slowed down.

I know, I'm probably guilty of bad driving at times, just as we all are. Sometimes, we just can't help it; we yawn at the wrong time, we forget to look both ways. We forget to look at our front end as well as our back end when pulling out of a parking space. There are all sorts of ways we can screw up. Yet there are bad drivers out there, drivers who forget that they have to share the road, drivers who are so worried about their own time that they forget that other people's is just as precious.

I suppose it's a comfort to know that even now I've left L.A., there is a little piece of the city here. Granted, it's one of my least favourite parts of the city but...I'm trying to look on the bright side. I suppose it just means I have to concentrate on being a better driver. Now...if only everyone could try that...

Happy Wednesday...