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3 September 2008, 01:00

So. They are saying, with straight faces and serious tones, “Man, it seems you have the worst luck.” I have people saying, “dear god, if it wasn’t happening to you, I wouldn’t have ever believed all this happened to one person.” Really, I am a hole in the universe where my event horizon generates the weirdest anomalies that anyone has ever experienced. I would be a Douglas Adams novel if it all weren’t very, very solidly real. And. Well. It is funny in a laugh-or-I-cry sort of situation.

Consensus on the snake under my pillow was that it wasn’t poisonous. Yeah {sarcasm} that makes me feel so much better. Landlord Tim said it looked like a copperhead, and Paul the Natural History Guy said it was a milk snake. Most agree it wasn’t poisionous. Dear god, I think maybe I’m cursed. I’m thinking locusts are next, or maybe frogs raining down on me. It’s been a mixture of Green Acres, Hee Haw, Cops and Jerry Springer. Nothing REALLY bad has happened, and I weirdly feel all right most of the time about staying here. I’ve made friends, evidently, it’s easy for me, and I have inspired redneck love – but it is definitely the restraining order kind – the suitors that will call you from jail. The people are friendly, if not slightly creepy, but I’ve always found the south and southerners creepy so…

Even though my journey has been like Dorothy and Toto on a cross country acid trip, it does make me feel like there’s a whole new world I need to conquer. New mountains to climb. A lot of the time I freak out that I left a good job and a home and security. A lot of the time I start to feel really comfortable. I feel really different, and I feel like, for the first time, that I can do anything I really want, from staying here to moving to Oregon to succeeding as a grown up to showing my boobs out the back door to the backyard. I have now graduated from feeling panicked and fearful about my future and my survival, to being happy and scared and new and free and more scared (scared now is a different animal than the desperate kind I was months ago. This scared is on par with being scared about living, instead of the terrifying fear that grips you when you think you are going to die.)

It’s been an experience, one that was the right one, one that was necessary for me to grow and strengthen. It’s an experience, even with all the “hellish” parts, which made me discover the balls and backbone that I didn’t realize I had. Two things I needed to fight through the thickets to get here, then fight through all the little things, to make life happen, where there was only existence before. I don’t know, maybe I’m happiest when I’m unhappy? Maybe I am one who is happy struggling, fighting, and complaining? Cause I do love to complain, and boy, I haven’t had a lack of things to complain about.

The reasons for me doing the move probably weren’t the greatest to base a life change on, the preparation wasn’t the best, the thinking-of-it-all-through was non-existent, but it all was the right thing to do at the right time. For me, the end of the rainbow is irrelevant. This Dorothy is apparently more interested in the tornado ride just before.