Last night was the official inauguration of my northeastern social life, with a housewarming gathering at the lovely new apartment of
razorart and
tired_pirate. I'd been into the city several times before, between unpacking boxes, but this was the first time I'd gone in for the purpose of seeing my own friends. Joi's place is really beautiful and it smelled of mulled cider and wine. There were a couple of tortie cats who entertained themselves by weaving through the guests' legs and seeking out those with cat allergies. I saw a brief flash of creamsicle orange at one point, another kitty who peeked out to see what was going on. Best of all, I got to meet another longtime LJ friend in person.
drfardook is every bit as wonderful in the flesh as his writing would lead us to believe. He's got smart, twinkly eyes. His friend Angel was a great treat. I recognized her from photos in his journal. We have a surprising amount of things in common and talked for a good while. I really hope that she left the party convinced that she MUST now get an account here (HINT, HINT). I also met a few other LJ people that I didn't get to talk to as much, so I'll avoid anymore namedropping since I'm already starting to feel like Hedda Hopper. It was a really great time, though, and I left feeling better about being here than I've felt since I moved. When I lived out in the country, I was isolated too, but I always had the beautiful oddities of Austin to escape to when I wanted to feel a kinship with my kind of people. Here in New Jersey, I've had a hard time adjusting to what is much more bizarre to me than anything I've ever encountered---suburbia. Suburbia is fucking weird with a capital W. That's alright, though. It only gives me more incentive to seek out other misfits here and create my own little enclave of people who don't have "Stepford" imprinted on the backs of their eyelids. It's not that I don't like it here. I love my house and I'm even beginning to feel a slight tendril of a connection to the dirt that my house sits upon. It's a great place for the kids. It's just very hard to find people I have anything in common with...but I suppose that may be more a function of age and circumstance, rather than the fault of the people who populate my neighborhood. I don't know. In the end, it takes time to make a new life. I'm impatient to have a sense of familiarity and a sense of home. It will come, but I felt more at home in Joi's apartment for a few hours last night than I've felt in my own house since I arrived.
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Heh...no doubt. I holed up like a bear in a cave once the neighborhood Rah Rah came a callin. I think she's finally given up on me. Whew. Being invited to a game of Bunco scared me silly.
I found myself driving around the old neighborhood and past our ol house the other day....good memories....wistful feelings.
I wonder if this place will ever feel like I belong? Perhaps it would scare me even more if I felt that I did?
;) Sorry Cate...seems I have journaled in your journal! All this to say I got a good chuckle out of it! ~Deb
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I'm hoping Alan and I will be able to swing some time off in spring/summer to come visit y'all and see how you have improved the house. My cousin is getting married in the end of June, but that's just in Houston so we shouldn't need to do more than a weekend down there.
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Soon, you will brave the trains and will be a pro at it, like every other suburbanite with an itch for the city and its freaky people!!!
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