I Love My New Place

As many of you have heard, I moved back to my hometown of Vicksburg, Mississippi. And, honestly — aside from the hassle of getting a new hard drive when one of my other ones crapped out on me (more on that particular misadventure tomorrow) — I’m loving it. It is taking me some time to get used to again — I’ve got to relearn the folkways a bit. I still get surprised by men hurrying to open a door for me or offering to help me with my bags when I’m out shopping. I’m surprised by how sweet everyone can be and how they look at me a bit funny when I seem apologetic for bothering them to ask them where I might find something in a store because my accent says I’m from here but my manner says I’ve been away for a long, long time. I’m also still getting used to the fact that they don’t mind it if I say hello to a toddler in the cart who is cooing and squawking a bit (people in New Jersey tended not to like strangers interacting with their kids much). And, I no longer have to ask “do you have sweet tea?” because the answer is “yes, honey, of course we have sweet tea.”

 

I’m re-adapting to the heat and humidity very quickly. The first few days were tough — I would get headaches and feel nauseated easily. But now, I can sit out on my balcony during the heat of the day (I have a *balcony* and it overlooks a *lake* where there are fish and pelicans and turtles and frogs and at night I can hear the crickets singing and the bullfrogs roaring!) and not be bothered overmuch aside from normal sweating. Air conditioner is standard *everywhere* (for those of you who haven’t visited the South, the temperatures here get to the upper 90s (F)/ mid 30s (C) regularly from April – October and the humidity increases the feel of it so that we have to factor it into the Heat Index which often surges into the 100s (F)/ upper 30s (C)) which means I no longer have to worry about my computer overheating during the day.

 

And my apartment is huge. It’s massive. I have a guest bedroom *and* an office as well as a dining room (just need a table and chairs), a decently sized (for my needs) kitchen, a master bath AND a second full bath (with loo AND shower and sink), and a living room. And also a balcony.

 

Have I mentioned that I have an honest-to-God balcony? One that I can sit on and smoke on even when it’s pouring down rain and I still don’t get wet? One where I can hang some plants? And that it overlooks a freaking *lake* that has fish and frogs and turtles and trees and birds? Because the balcony is my favorite thing here. It’s shady, it doesn’t get a lot of direct sunlight. It’s cool(er) during the day and I have a good breeze. I can get a gas grill and have little cook-outs out there. I have room to invite people to come over and they’ll actually be comfortable. I can get my niece Mini-me to spend the night up here. I get to see my parents whenever I want. I can see my grandmother whenever I want. I can go down and see my niece Mini-me and my nephews whenever. I can swing by and visit with my sister-in-law and her wife.

 

And, good Lord, the people down here are so nice and chatty. Last week, I went to take care of my rent so I wouldn’t have to deal with any late fees. The woman who runs the main office and I just sat there talking about all kinds of different things for about a half hour. I wound up telling her that if she ever needs help with computers or game advice for her son, to just come by my place. A few days ago, I ran into a guy who was friends with my little brother up at the firehouse he used to be part of. We were just standing in line together at the local convenience store/gas station and I thought I recognized him. I run into people who know my family or who I went to school with all the time now. They’re always asking me what I’m up to, where I’ve been, what brought me back home, and if I’ve got any more books out. When I went to Liturgy on Sunday, everyone in the church who had known me years back kept staring at me trying to figure out who I was. When I told them, every last one of them wanted to hear everything I’ve been up to since I left Mississippi back in 2002.

 

It’s weird. I’ve lived in more urban areas ever since I got out of college in 2002. But moving back “home” doesn’t bug me. Yeah, I’ll probably wind up missing running into people who speak accented English. But…this place is home. And my apartment is fucking awesome. My mother picked it out and, even though she and I don’t always understand each other, she picked the right place for me. It’s close enough to town that I don’t burn too much gas when I need to go get groceries but far enough out that it’s quiet and I don’t have to deal with drunks hollering, kids being rowdy, or the police running past at 50 MPH on a residential street. The quiet and the closeness (but not too much closeness) to nature is a real boon to me as a writer. I’ve gotten more work cleared away in the past few weeks than I had in the three months before it!

 

I’ve always been the adventurous kid. Always a bit of the black sheep in the family. I’ve been the geeky nerdy one in a family filled with working-class people, businessmen, and traditionalists. I left Mississippi years ago convinced the only way I’d move back here for very long was to take care of my parents when they got Really Old (they’re not Really Old yet). I hated this place when I was younger because this is where I got teased and tormented for preferring to read and hang out in bookstores (I was on a first-name basis with the ladies at Waldenbooks) or play Dungeons and Dragons or watch Star Trek or Star Wars instead of shopping for clothes and slathering make-up on and gossiping non-stop about boys. This was where I felt like being different meant being damned. But now, now that I’m back here, I’ve found out that my neighbor beneath me is a girl I went to school and church with growing up and she thinks it’s awesome that I write books and have three published. I mention things like having lived in New Jersey or France to explain where I’ve been and people look at me like I just announced I climbed Mount Everest. So many people tell me that they could never imagine going off and living somewhere where they didn’t know anyone or didn’t speak the language but to me, that was easy. I could pack up next year and go and live in Scotland or California or the Moon and not knowing anyone wouldn’t bug me a bit. I’ve never needed a lot of friends or to have people close by — for years I’ve been fairly content to just spend my free time writing and have resented the occasions where I was obligated to go out somewhere and be sociable. I am an introvert by nature and while I don’t dislike people, I prefer them in small doses (for the most part. A few really close friends and relatives who understand that I don’t need to fill every second with small talk and that sometimes I need to just go off and be alone for a few minutes or to sit with them quietly are fine).

 

Still, moving to Mississippi and to the awesome flat my mother found for me has made me feel something that I didn’t think I would really ever feel again. I feel like I’ve come home. Even if, in the long run, I wind up moving off again, this place is and always will be home to me, no matter how rootless an existence I lead.

 

And that doesn’t bother me nearly as much as I once thought it would.

 

— G.K.