Post 116

This is it. The bittersweet end. I just created my new blog, First Drafts and will begin the process of stepping away from here - my first online home and the renewal of my writing after far too many silent years. I still have some feelings and insights to the whole Peace Corps experience, but as I move on I'd rather not dedicate the time to doing it just yet. Time, Young Jedi... time.

I've made a few friends with this thing and, I'm sure, turned many people off by it. I don't see the point of personal journals - the process of documenting your secrets so then you have the added stress of worrying about people finding the documentation. Instead, I've gone with the 'here it is if you want to read it approach' and some have, many haven't. If it's possible to both put all your cards on the table while also keeping them close to your chest, I think I've done just that. My heart, mind and experiences have been released, even if readers don't fully know the specifics. I think there's something to writing that makes it general enough that people relate to it, even if they don't relate to the details themselves. As humans, we share basic responses to life's events and it's so easy to get lost in particulars and highlight the differences. We've been programmed in many ways to see in the us-vs-them paradigm and 'them' only seems to get larger and larger.

I'd like to take a brief moment to thank the many people who've remained loyal readers and served as feedback givers. You've made this so easy to do, and so rewarding. I hope you continue to follow my random life events in the new blog. As my life starts to feel more and more like my own again, the need to write grows as well. Hopefully you think this is a good thing.

For any PCV or future PCV that finds this: feel free to contact me if you have questions. I'm not the biggest PC advocate, but I wouldn't take back the experience. I'd happily give you my honest assessment, which might contrast with all the "oh my god! it was so amazing!" reactions people seem to have. I think it was amazing... but, it is my experience and my opinion that with great joy comes great sorrow and with good thoughts comes great responsibility. I witnessed a lot of sorrow and not so much responsibility. But... I think that's not much different than most places I've been, so take it with a grain of salt.

On to my Chicago life...

Mortgages and margaritas, coffee and confusion

Fourth of July, a day when most Americans feel more American and more connected to their fellow countrymen. A Wal-Mart co-opted definition of pride and freedom fills the yards and streets, each person creative in their conformity. Beyond doing it to obey my rule of avoiding idiots with sticks of fire, I stay in on the Fourth because it's just another reminder that I'm not one.

Wedding season and summer vacations mean the city is overrun with tourists and brides... and wanna-be brides. In my generation, at least way back in the day, the worst you could do was to be a wanna-be or, god forbid, a poser. But here we are. Country girls in their discount dresses and nude hose and strappy sandals gawking at the buildings, carrying shopping bags of things available in most strip malls across the land. Suburban dads in their wife-purchased outfits, kids in tow, smiling at me in an overly intimate way. Everyone contemplating life on the other side, trial runs, free samples. A belief that the better life, meaning almost always the more 'fun' one or the easier one, is just a decision away. A one-step solution.

The fascination with this magical, all-solving step and it's belief to be the almighty one makes it seem all the more dangerous - alluring to ponder, but daunting to really consider. Like men who describe women as exotic, it's a flirtation around the idea of something being attractive because it isn't understood. When it becomes understood it's... flawed, not attractive.

Alters and thresholds provide the same myths and legends. Happily ever after, riding off into the sunset. One decision into another, better - and in this case - safer life. Find someone to provide. Be provided for. Marriage isn't trite or necessarily flawed, but most people seem to plan to be brides and grooms more than husbands and wives. Perfect linens and flowers and ribbons, music and processional, standard toasts and poses. A perfect day for the perfect beginning. Thousands of dollars for the proper send off into Perfectville.

I've been to a few parties recently where new 30-somethings (meaning 30 year olds) stand around with their wedding bands or wedding plans taking about their condos, drinking from plastic cups and telling band camp stories. It's the Quarter Life Purgatory between starting the career and starting the family - jumping from one well traveled track to the next. These gatherings are like college parties, those thrown in the time of your life when you feel you are biding time until the Next Big Thing happens to you.

Outside of these Purgatory Parties, the rest of us huddle over small coffeehouse tables, in hushed but impassioned conversations about meanings and journeys and confusion. Those of us unwilling to jump on the same train, running on the same old track, duck into the dank and dirty train station cafe and question not just the destination, but the best mode to get wherever we want 'there' to be.