Dear Minnesota,

You've treated me bad and you've treated me good. You're reliable in your chilly, snowy, Ijustwanttostayinsidesomedaysandforgetthattheworldexists ways. You've also tested my patience this winter, though I always pass those silly tests with high marks; it's a joke that I'm even quizzed on such frivolities.

I must say, we are a rather smashing duo this season, dear Minnesota. I'm adorable in my winter coat and boots and I have more gloves, arm warmers, hats and scarves to choose from than anyone I know...I'm learning to accessorize. And I kind-of like it.

With access to my friend's car every weekend this month, I've learned what it means to live on a Snow Emergency route, how to either drive in silence or accept what's on the radio, what it feels like to spin nearly three hundred and sixty degrees after catching a patch of ice, and though I knew how to do it, I got first-hand experience changing a blown-out tire.

Besides all my new driving experiences, I've perfected winter bus riding. I now know precisely how fast I have to jog-walk two blocks in four inches of snow in order to catch the early bus to get to work a half hour before my shift starts in the morning so I can recline comfortably in the back room reading the tabloids I'd never touch if anyone was around.

And I'd been so looking forward to living in Texas with the warmth, the sun, the dry ground: biking weather. But I've discovered you can definitely bike here any time of year (though I haven't done so myself because I'm not really that much of a badass...yet). What sane people can actually survive living in a world with only two seasons? People who don't get to live through four complete seasons are without.

So really, why would I choose to be anywhere but here*, dear Minnesota, when you are so adaptable? I've learned to share my twin bed with two body pillows as a barrier between my naked body and the naked wind outside. My towels always stay nice and toasty resting atop my radiator and baths wouldn't ever be as satisfactory without the nip in the air before submerging in the hot, bath bomb and bubble bar'd water.

I had been so ready to rid myself of you, Minnesota, to think of you as a high school friend, someone I could glance at in a yearbook and see every five or ten years. I was ready to box you right up and stuff you away. I was ready to move to somewhere new and exciting, but I forgot something incredibly important: Every day is new and exciting. I can be an adventurer every day despite where I live and thus, I am pleased to be here.


* Marquette, Michigan or Grand Marais, Minnesota are the only other places I'd consider living right now

Arguably Agreeable

Tonight, a friend thanked me for being the nicest person ever. "I know nicer," was my response, though no one specifically came to mind. I mean, I know some incredibly nice people, but the people who are on the same shelf others seem to place me, those nice people are no longer a part of my daily life. They live elsewhere and their lives have little to nothing to do with mine apart from the air we breathe and the resources we use, though it's safe to say, I use less.* After hearing me reject such a simple statement, a compliment for which I could have easily responded: "You're welcome," my friend told me to stop bullshitting her.

Okay, so I'm the nicest person ever, but that comes with a very heavy burden because I'm the nicest person ever to all other people I encounter, but I save few nice things for myself. Even in the things I create/draw/write...they're all for someone else's eye. I give so much of my self and my things and that's why people think I'm the nicest person they've ever met. I'm so accommodating I'm surprised it doesn't sicken people. It sure as hell sickens me sometimes. To save myself from sounding like a martyr, I'll just say: I LOVE helping people, I just wish I knew how to say: "I need to help myself right now, instead, sorry." Sometimes helping others does help me in a roundabout way but more often than not, I convince myself that the pleasure I'll gain from helping a friend is enough to sustain my needs.

It's because I learned and believed that you should always treat others the way you'd want to be treated that I've gotten myself into this mess. I've just been living a golden rule.



* That is, unless they've become more environmentally conscious.