Last Day of Work

There were certainly some times this year that I didn't think I would make it through, or that I saw Portland dangling before me like a carrot, urging me to keep going, but it's hard to understand that feeling now. This whole week I have happily, if not somewhat guiltily, exchanged packing time for friend time: sharing a 40 outside rather than sorting the trash, rocking the "Jewish Favorites" section (Siman Tov, to be exact) at karaoke instead of returning home at a reasonable hour and giving my favorite dog tummy rubs while avoiding taking my boxes to UPS.

Strangely, I was re-reading earlier blog posts (if I don't, who will?) and thinking about my fear of religion when I first got here, and, specifically, people forcing their religion on me and I realized that what I have actually experienced is far more nuanced and not at all as overwhelming as I'd feared. Then I went to the dermatologist. In our 10 minutes together he wished me blessings, he asked the big guy to watch over me on my trip to Portland and he was quick to clarify that while he'd called some NYC Drs. melanoma gods, he meant it with a small g. I have never been so happy to leave the doctor's office.

Happily, interactions like that have been the exception, not the norm and in Vermillion I have met a multitude of creative, kind, interesting, funny, self-sufficient and surprising people. It is truly a special place. Possibly the center of the Universe and certainly an excellent place to have experimented with living outside of my East Coast Liberal norm, mostly because I was able to adapt to the Small Town South Dakota Liberal norm with ease. I will back for Labor Day weekend and look forward to a stream of Vermillionaires rolling through the streets of New York with me in the not too distant future.