I am moving. Yay!
Into a nice house with a big yard. Yay!
Nestled in the scenic, lovely Pioneer Valley in Western Massachusetts. Yay!
Which is far away from Boston. Yay?
And I don’t know anyone. yayy
Don’t get me wrong; I am excited. I am excited about getting a bigger office where I can turn an entire wall into one gigantic dry erase board. I like that my dog will have a lot of space to run around. I will enjoy the peace and quiet and nature and farmlands. I will probably not enjoy getting stuck in traffic behind a tractor, but that comes with the territory and I’m okay with it.
I’m somewhat less okay with the not-living-near-a-major-city thing (and the lawn-care-maintenance-terror thing, but that’s a whole other blog post), since I’ve lived near a major city for the past thirteen years and this will be the first time in a while that I’ve ventured out into the countryside. I think I’ll love it, really I do, but I’m also so drawn to the energy and life of a city that I worry I’ll look out over the vast, rural expanses of snow in the dead of winter and suddenly decide that it would be a good idea to chop up my family with an axe.
(That was a jokey reference to The Shining. I do not have any intention of chopping up my family with an axe. Unless they use permanent marker on my dry erase wall, in which case I cannot be held responsible for any axe-related actions.)
As for not knowing anyone, that’s tricky, too. Writing is already pretty isolating. And even though dressing up the pets and playing Battledog Catlactica is a fun way to simulate healthy social interaction, it gets a little old after the tenth time Starbuck coughs up a hairball.
So I will have to go out and meet people. I am cautiously optimistic about this, even though I am naturally shy. Throw me into a room full of strangers and I will suddenly become exclusively enthralled by the onion dip. (More so than usual, as I am enthralled by dips of all kinds, all of the time.) And when I do open my mouth, strange and unacceptable things come pouring out, like that time I cornered Maggie Stiefvater and started raving about a dismembered kelpie penis. But this time, I am READY. To be CHARMING. And NOT WEIRD.
So Pioneer Valley: be my friend. I will invite you over to my house. I will present you with a festive array of dips. And I will let you draw on my dry erase wall, with the appropriate markers. OR YOU WILL GET AN AXE TO THE FACE.
(I think it’s going well!)