Archive for the ‘Dream chasing’ Category

Settling in…

Posted: July 11, 2013 in Dream chasing

After five days of driving cross country, it was a relief to have finally arrived at my destination. I had an apartment here waiting for me — I had come out here for a week to interview and house hunt before the newspaper offered me the job — and now I have the task of filling it and making it livable. Right now it’s me, my dog, a folding table a bean bag chair, a suitcase of clothes and an air mattress. It will have to do for now.

I started work a few days ago. Not much to report really. I’m just getting to know my coworkers and fielding whatever they throw my way. They aren’t big on the training. My first day it was ‘here, go do this’ — no explanation, no directions, just get out and get started. So I’m piecing it together as best I can and asking questions when needed.

It’s not what I expected so far, but I think it’s too soon to tell what this job will be like.

Last week, the West Kentucky State Fair was in town. That was a week full of firsts for me as a photographer and as a person. Rodeos, demolition derbies, beauty pageants (which I could happily go the rest of my life never having to witness again, thank you), tractor pulls (don’t ask), and so many other things.

Let’s just say this city girl got a whirlwind lesson about life in a small southern country town.

I can’t say I have learned much about where I now live yet. I really only had two days here before I started working — not much time to do anything at all.

Life is slower, which is nice at times but painfully boring at others. There’s lots of green and open space and next to no traffic. It takes five minutes to drive anywhere in town, pretty much — quite lovely after spending several hours in L.A. traffic every day. If you drive much farther than that, however, you end up in a corn field.

I’m adjusting slowly. My dog too. It all still feels temporary. I find I’m waiting for my boss to call me into his office and tell me this was all a big mistake, I don;t have what it take, and I should go back to California. I’ve had several fitful moments, freaking out, wondering what the F@ck I’m doing here, if this was all just a big mistake. Still feels like an insane decision and I miss my family and friends.

I wish I had something more exciting to say today. Here’s hoping I get into the swing of things soon. For now, I’m reminding myself that this is the next step for me and it will work out however it’s supposed to.

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There’s something about leaving home that no one warned me about — it’s that feeling of fear or nervousness or anxiety in the pit of your stomach as crossing state lines away from what you’ve always known and into what you’ve never known.

Sure, I’ve left Los Angeles before — heck I’ve left the country more times than I can count — but I’ve always come home. Now I’m moving out of state and I don’t know if I will ever live in my home city again.
I knew the move would be hard. Here I am, a recent grad from J-School, saying ‘so long’ to family, friends, the city that I’ve always known, but not always loved, and moving across the country for my first newspaper job.
But here’s the kicker, right? I’ve moving to Kentucky. Me, a not even remotely religious, bleeding-heart liberal moving to the GOP-loving Bible Belt.

My friends have asked me a hundred times — and me father even tried to convince me not to go — but now, as I cross the California-Arizona border I can’t help but hear their voices echoing in my head — what am I thinking?
I almost turned back. I called my dad crying like a scared little girl and echoed the words that had been said to me so many times in the weeks leading up to my move — ‘This is crazy. What am I thinking? I’m moving to Kentucky? This is insane! I want to come home!’

I think I wanted my dad’s permission to come home and free-load a little while longer. But my dad, ever-wise man that he can sometimes be, just said ‘O.k. What are you going to do?’

This was not the response I was looking for.

There was only one answer I could give — I’m gonna to keep going.

So I’m onward and upward to the land of the unknown and I have no idea what to expect or what my life is going to look like in the coming months. And as I write this, I am clinging to the mantra that has gotten me to this border crossing: ‘One foot in front of the other.’