A Suburban Girl’s Southern Diary: Part 3, Random Tuesday Style

*I’m super whiny today so you should probably just move on to the next blog in your reader!

When I asked for suggestions on what to write about, a good portion of you wanted to know about life here in Kentucky.  I guess it’s time for part 3 of my very un-regular Suburban Girl’s Southern Diary.  Normally it would be fun to insert some great little graphic (like my Naked Truth series) but I honestly can’t think of one at the moment.  Though I reserve the right to insert one later should it come to me.

Month four is underway of living in the wilds of Kentucky.  I’m still not entirely sure this is the place I’d like to call home forever.  The things I’m struggling with are finding new ways to meet other people.  The closest MOMS group is an hour away.  I contacted several MOPS groups but never heard back.  I’m not sure how normal people meet each other.  I don’t know where a playground is, they don’t seem to be as prolific as in our previous locations.  Yesterday you read about the troubles of finding a (reliable) babysitter.

I’ve met two moms from the neighborhood (one of whom is moving to Georgia next month) but we aren’t at that stage where I would call either of them (even if I did have their phone numbers) and talk about the pool, movies or our kids.  I guess most people meet at work these days.

That’s always an option.  Getting a job that is.  But that would mean I would have even less time to write than I do now, which would be saying it would be pretty much non-existent.  Frankly, I don’t know what skills I have to offer.  I make a mean peanut butter sandwich but I haven’t touched more than basic office software in 8 years.  And there’s that whole “I don’t like working for other people” thing.  Which is of course just a  minor setback.

I could go back to school.  I’m sure I have tons in common with 18 year olds who can’t buy beer (legally anyway).  Since we’ve moved so much I don’t have that network of people I knew in college/high school/childhood to fall back on.  The virtual world seems to be where I live.  And while you are all great, it’s kind of hard to meet up for a night out.

This is my biggest stumbling block about living here.  The only person I have to talk to about shhstuff is CP and I’m pretty sure he’s switched to self-preservation mode of ‘In one ear and Out the other’ by now. {edited to add: I’m not a social butterfly.  I’m most definitely on the side of introvert. Thus making it harder to randomly meet people.}

There is a big gap between money and no money here too.  Either there are people who have it and have the backyard and two car garage and nice tidy suburban life (umm, like us) or the people who have two sofa’s on the porch and three coon dogs living in the back of the rusty pick-up truck with a window shot out.  You might think I’m just making jokes but there really isn’t a middle class here. {edited to add: Back in Philly we would have most definitely been in the middle class, probably on the lower end of it.  Because cost of living is so much lower here, it makes it seem like we are in the upper range.}  And it makes me sad about what my kids are learning at school about social classes.  Social classes are just stupid labels.  I don’t like labels.  But here it’s hard to avoid them.  I don’t know that I want my kids growing up in a place with no middle ground.  There will always be people with more and people with less, it’s just the way the world works.  I don’t want my kids deciding they are better than those without because they grew up in a place where everyone they know has just as much or more than they do.  They need to cross to the other side and see that not everyone’s life comes in such a neat and tidy package.  (This of course will be years from now that this would happen.)

So where is home for me?  That’s a fantastic question.  Philadelphia is the answer I’m most likely to give.  Other than Spokane where I grew up, it’s the longest place I’ve ever lived.  I like being near the ocean and more importantly the beach.  I like knowing where everything is.  I like knowing that if I need to find a pair of black heeled sandals I can go to XYZ Store and find them.  I know exactly how to get from A to B and that it will take me X number of minutes to get there.  I like being close to a city that feels safe and comfortable and…familiar.

I like things I know.  Maybe that’s why being here still seems like living in some alternate reality.  Despite the fact that the neighbors held a rock star block party on Saturday, the likes of which I’ve never seen before, I still feel very much like an outsider.

And maybe that’s the biggest part of the problem.

What do you do to fit in somewhere new?  Any suggestions for stuffing a East Coast girl into a Mid-Southern life?

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