I've adopted a new phrase since our move -one that has nothing to do with becoming a hip Baltimorean and everything to do with how moving has reduced me to a child- and it is:
"I hate this."
I know. So negative, so immature. But maybe you're shaking your head, thinking At least she isn't puffing out her bottom lip, raising her voice into a whine, and stamping her foot...
Oh, but I am.
You see, it's easy to be ridiculous in isolation. Tucked away in our gated* community, stashed away in our corner apartment, we are alone and I am at liberty to express just how completely done I am with...
...And this is where the list would be:
And it would be long.
Because the truth is, I miss Topeka's library. I miss midwestern drivers and the open space around the highways. I miss I-70, God bless it, and Wanamaker for how user friendly it actually is. I miss our family. I miss my friends. I miss being in a place where I once had friends. I miss the beef and the dairy, just because that's very Kansas of me. I miss Kroger brand.
Suddenly, I understand the fierce pride people have in their homestate. I know what it feels like to be walking down the aisle of a grocery store or to be standing in front of the DVDs at the Baltimore library reading the sign that says "$1.00 a day," thinking "Bulls**t. This would NOT happen in Topeka." I've even gone so far as to say to people, "Well, in Topeeekaaaa..."
Topeka is awesome! Topeka is better than all of Maryland!
Kansas, beloved Mother, today in an alien land,
Yours is the name I have idly traced with a bit of wood in the
The name, that, flung from a scornful lip, will make the hot
The name that is graven, hard and deep, on the core of my
-excerpt from The Call of Kansas, Esther M. Hill
*Not actually gated very often.