I'm back in San Francisco, listening to the sounds of construction as I try to settle back into my west coast life and figure out the plan for this week (grad school orientation starts tomorrow).
It was a little strange to leave San Francisco to visit Vermont, then head to Boston for a few days, before coming back here. I grew up in a tiny little town in rural vermont and spent years scrambling toward the exit sign. I was so excited to get the hell out of there and never look back. When I visit, I remember that I never really fit into the culture of that small town, and of course I still don't. But Vermont is just so beautiful. It's small, and soft, and green, and quiet, with quirky weather and any number of endearing qualities. After living in the city for so many years now -- and having just moved to San Fran, which is about 40% bigger, population-wise, than Boston, and therefore totally stuffed to the gills with people -- becoming progressively more anonymous among the crowds, I can kind of see what draws people to move to Vermont, or at least someplace nearby. I know that I'm romanticizing the concept, at least partly because I'm increasingly sure that San Francisco, the city at least, isn't really the best fit for me. Conceptually it's great, but I don't know if a few years here is going to make me consider SF to be "home."
Actually, that's really the crux of the issue. I miss the feeling of having history in a place, of being "from" there, of being "at home." When I was in Vermont, I felt like I was at home, and then in Boston I felt like I was at home. All I could think when I got on the plane to come back to SF was that I was one step too removed from where I was supposed to be. Just a feeeling of wrongness or something.
I'm not sure if that's because I'm a big baby about the whole moving thing, or if it's a gut feeling that I need to pay attention to. I guess I'll pay some attention to it and see how I feel in a few years when we're at the point where we might relocate. As TCH told me last night, we should take some time to enjoy the next few years, and make a decision when we're able to make an actual change. So the plan is to put off worrying about it, which is always a challenge for me. I'll try.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Picture it...
Me. San Francisco International Airport. A glass of wine. A 3-hours-early arrival for a red-eye flight to visit my parents in Vermont and see friends in Boston.
It's the perfect recipe for me to finally post something on my blog!
Lots, and very little, has happened in the past two weeks.
I passed my CPHQ exam (Certified Professional in Health Care Quality), so now I have a credential that I can attach to my name. It's apparently more popular on the west coast than in the east, so I came to the right place.
TCH's parents are visiting, and right now, so are his aunt, uncle, and grandmother. I'm proud to discover that I've gotten pretty darn good at navigating around San Francisco, and I can take visitors from out of town on really fun sightseeing tours. Today (feeling like a mama duck leading her ducklings), I took the whole crowd to see the Golden Gate Bridge while TCH was at work. It's lots of fun.
So I've gone back and forth between feeling annoyed that there are so many people crammed into MY apartment (why can't they just stay at a hotel like normal people?), and feeling guilty for being such a selfish American who wouldn't want to welcome her auntie, uncle, and grandmother into her home (we're all the same family, it's only temporary, it's expensive to stay at a hotel, and they're sacrificing space, too).
It's complicated, obviously, and although I consistently expect these situations to be absolutely unbearable, each visit with TCH's parents is more fun than the one before. I get myself all worked up before a visit--an absolute mess, stress-wise--because somehow I am fixated on the awkwardness of their first couple of visits, back before we really knew each other. These days, things are different: we get along easily, his parents are more laid-back, etc. So why don't I remember that when they're about to visit?? Is it because I think I'm "supposed" to have a weird relationship with my in-laws? I guess not. But while they, coming from an Eastern culture, are more collectivist, I think that I, on a personal level, have a lot of my own isolationist tendencies that don't really help the situation. And also, the mental grudge list that I can't stop adding to.
Maybe this is one of the things that get easier as we age?
It's the perfect recipe for me to finally post something on my blog!
Lots, and very little, has happened in the past two weeks.
I passed my CPHQ exam (Certified Professional in Health Care Quality), so now I have a credential that I can attach to my name. It's apparently more popular on the west coast than in the east, so I came to the right place.
TCH's parents are visiting, and right now, so are his aunt, uncle, and grandmother. I'm proud to discover that I've gotten pretty darn good at navigating around San Francisco, and I can take visitors from out of town on really fun sightseeing tours. Today (feeling like a mama duck leading her ducklings), I took the whole crowd to see the Golden Gate Bridge while TCH was at work. It's lots of fun.
So I've gone back and forth between feeling annoyed that there are so many people crammed into MY apartment (why can't they just stay at a hotel like normal people?), and feeling guilty for being such a selfish American who wouldn't want to welcome her auntie, uncle, and grandmother into her home (we're all the same family, it's only temporary, it's expensive to stay at a hotel, and they're sacrificing space, too).
It's complicated, obviously, and although I consistently expect these situations to be absolutely unbearable, each visit with TCH's parents is more fun than the one before. I get myself all worked up before a visit--an absolute mess, stress-wise--because somehow I am fixated on the awkwardness of their first couple of visits, back before we really knew each other. These days, things are different: we get along easily, his parents are more laid-back, etc. So why don't I remember that when they're about to visit?? Is it because I think I'm "supposed" to have a weird relationship with my in-laws? I guess not. But while they, coming from an Eastern culture, are more collectivist, I think that I, on a personal level, have a lot of my own isolationist tendencies that don't really help the situation. And also, the mental grudge list that I can't stop adding to.
Maybe this is one of the things that get easier as we age?
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