A farewell to my adoptive state

A farewell to my adoptive state.

I don’t think it’s worth rehashing how we ended up in the geographically centered state known as Kansas, but here we are. And in a month, a five year relationship will be dust in the godforsaken two thousand mile an hour wind that greets me everyday when I step outside my door.

Oh, Kansas. When Illinois became too pricey for us, you were there. When the cost of moving and attending two years of grad school was cheaper than staying in the burbs and attending an Illinois institution of higher learning, we knew we had found our adoptive home.

Our first stop: Manhattan. We marveled at the vast nothingness that is western Kansas. So much land. So much potential. We scoffed at your food prices- how on earth did food in the heartland cost significantly more than back in Chicago? But we had to eat. And so we trudged through, knowing that upon completion of our degrees, food cost concerns would be a thing of the past.

But then something happened, Kansas. The autumn you welcomed us into your bosom is the same autumn you elected Sam Brownback to be your governor. Now, who was I to judge? Having come from the land of Fed Pen Governors, I knew a thing or two about toxic leadership. So I tried to go in with an open mind.

But you also gave us Derek Schmidt and Kris Kobach. And I don’t understand why.

Nevertheless, I figured that my time here was short, so I wouldn’t get myself wrapped up in your politics. Until your politics screwed me out of a lucrative internship.

Then I was mad. And confused. But mostly pissed the fuck off.

I realized that the government wasn’t going to do a damn thing for me, so I was on my own. I sat on the sidelines and watched as you gutted one dept’s budget to fund the budget of the very department I was supposed to be interning at. I watched as you passed silly voting laws, making it so that I’d have to wait two years before I could register to vote. I sat and watched you burn.

But we didn’t leave.

It would have been easy to throw our hands up and head back to Chicago, with our tails between our legs, and live in my mother’s basement.

But we stayed.

Despite your failings in certain areas, you made life easier for us in ways we never thought possible. I’ve met my fair share of ridiculously polite cowboys and city folk alike; I’ve taken plenty of long, relaxing drives along lush farmland; your gas prices keep my wallet happy; and your weather keeps me on my toes.

From Manhattan to Lawrence, you gave us a home when we had none left. You (sort of) fed us when we were hungry. You entertained us when we were bored. And you gave us something to vent about whenever your politics came up in conversation.

I may be leaving here far more bitter than I was when I arrived, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have any positive experiences. A Master’s degree, a federal job and now a career in my field are nothing to sneeze at. Before I came here I was driving a school bus.

You helped make me a better person, Kansas. And for that I will always be appreciative.

That being said, I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.

Farewell, my love.

Dreams, decisions and destinies

Yesterday on Facebook I posted an update about purchasing an album I was unfamiliar with after seeing a picture of it on an Apple commercial. The commercial didn’t play an music from this particular album- it was just an actor’s voice-over describing the features of the new iPhone while a personless hand demonstrated. The picture of the album flashed briefly when the voice-over/hand reached the part about the exciting new iTunes features. I had seen the commercial enough that I had committed the name of the album to memory: Ellie Goulding, “Lights.” During my next iTunes purchase-a-thon I made sure to grab the album I didn’t even bother to preview before hitting the “purchase album” button. My reasoning was that if it was in an Apple commercial, it had to be decent. Apple is generally considered a pretty “hip” company, so I’d trust their taste in record-label-purchased taste in music.

The album turned out to be decent. Not mind-blowingly amazing, but I did get a couple of tracks out of it that I really enjoyed. So in the end it worked out, so to speak.

Recalling that instance reminded me of other life decisions I’d made because of television- some of them actually having profound, long-standing effects.

I’ve always been a dreamer: as the single blerd (black nerd) in my group of friends on Chicago’s south side, I spent a lot of time on my own, watching alternative videos on MTV, reading Goosebumps, taking the bus to the library to pick up a ship load of books, etc. I used to imagine myself as a rock star, the girlfriend of a popular baseball player, living on a farm with ten kids in Kenosha, WI (don’t ask why I chose Kenosha). As I got older I never really stopped to consider that perhaps I needed to pull myself back to earth just a little- after all, a little dreaming never hurt anyone. Except when I realized, when actually presented with the opportunity to pursue some of these dreams, how much work was involved and how, maybe, I didn’t want it as badly as I thought.

Let’s look at some examples.

• Around 2008, Halbastram and I started watching a lot of “Law and Order: Criminal Intent.” I became smitten with Det. Gorens and the idea of becoming a detective. Of course, you can’t just leapfrog to being a detective without some cop time in there first. So twice I applied to become a police officer- once in Lisle,IL, again in Olathe, KS. And twice I changed my mind right before the physical test- because I didn’t want it bad enough to be exerting energy and running and shit.
• For Christmas of 2008, I bought Halbastram the boxset of the the tv show “The West Wing” (which cost a little over $300; it is now for sale at Best Buy for about $50...ugh). I’d never seen it before but, once again, just like with Det. Gorens, I’d become enamored with the character Josh Lyman, the Deputy Chief of Staff. Now, this one is a little more complicated. Since my childhood in Chicago, I’ve actually loved all things politics. I used to sit at the kitchen table with my uncle while we watched the news and cracked jokes about Mayor Daley. When it came time to pick colleges, I applied to Truman State because they have the best Poly Sci program in the country. I didn’t know in what capacity I wanted to be involved, but politics have always been destined for my future. Some time after college (not Truman State), I started reading John Kass, a political columnist for the Chicago Tribune and loved his style so much that he became my journalistic hero. I figured that political journalism was where I wanted to be. Fast-forward to 2008-2009- after discovering Josh Lyman, Halbastram and I made the decision to go to grad school because everything around us fell apart: we lost our jobs, our home, our cars. Might as well start over. Josh Lyman still fresh in my mind, when it came time to choose a concentration, naturally I chose poly sci. Not only was it obviously my destiny, but because I made the decision right then and there that my one true goal in life was to serve as some politico’s right-hand woman. I never fancied myself a leader, and I’m generally fiercely loyal to those whose trust I’ve earned. I was going to Josh Lyman the shit out of some mayor or senator or future president. Three years and one Master’s degree later…

It’s probably not even worth mentioning the numerous cooking shows that tricked me into thinking that I knew what the hell a chicken cacciatore was and that I had any business trying to cook it.

I’m 31 now and still as much of a dreamer as I was when I was 11 or 21. I still have grand ideas about working in politics; I still fancy myself becoming a brilliant political writer like John Kass; I still can’t cook chicken cacciatore for shit.

I could scold myself for not taking life decisions more seriously, but I don’t believe our lives are supposed to be so linear. Dreaming of and wanting to do something out of the ordinary or spontaneously isn’t the problem.

it’s the courage to follow through. no matter how long it takes.