The Magic of Midwest Living

Hello hello hello!

Long time no talk, I wish I could say this won't happen again, but it probably will. In the way two weeks ago felt overwhelming, this past week felt exhausting. My time after work was spent...existing? Barely? Just feeling generally lethargic and unmotivated. I'm so goddamn tired of this heat and just want the excitement of fall to take over already. We've been getting absolutely nailed with thunderstorms recently, so that has made things feel just a bit spooky around here.

I spent this morning driving all over town stopping at different stores to try and get the best deals for every item on my grocery list. Student loan payments are kicking my ass and are threatening to push me into the role of the crazy coupon lady. I'm ready. As I was driving back to my apartment I saw all the flags they have stretched and displayed on every street light switched out for the logo of our local art festival that happens every year at the end of summer. When my algorithms are flooded with big cities like New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago, I have moments in the solitude of my sedan where I am thankful to be here in my little town. Little I say loosely as we have just over 30,000 residents here according to census results. A classic midwestern town close to a college campus so the hillbillies townspeople are radicalized by the proximity to higher education. It's not where I grew up or where I thought I'd end up settling down, but I'm damn happy to be here. I made a list of things I'm thankful for around here when I was fighting those last fifteen minutes on the clock.

Being any flavor of queer in the midwest is a feat in and of itself, and I am so tired of big-city gays talking down to us from their high horses with a feigned sense of pity. Save it! I'll take palling around with those of us left behind in the cornfields any day of the week. There's a Burger King pretty close to where I work (three total in town, the most of any fast food chain, and I think I'm the only one who really appreciates it) that has the sweetest trans woman + big butch lesbian duo running the drive-thru more efficiently than anything I've ever seen. The only locksmith business in town is run entirely by a gruff butch lesbian and her Ford van. I had to visit her for work last week and was in her storeroom with her for 45+ minutes, dripping sweat out of every pore in my body, and learning the intricacies of key cutting. If you need a double-sided National 1663 anytime soon - good fucking luck, buddy!

One of the main parts of my job is going to the Post Office every single day right before my lunch break. What started as a fun way to get out of the office building each day quickly turned into a game of chicken with the postal workers. For some reason they just absolutely hate me and the fact that I'm there daily checking for packages. They scoff, roll their eyes if they even look at me at all, and shove the broken down cart full of beat up boxes at me with such disdain I have to know what I've done to deeply offend them. On the opposite end of that, it's a little fun to have a harmless enemy. My company had a table at the local Pride event in June where I saw someone, the new girl at the Post Office. Younger, closer to my age, goth, and clearly some flavor of gay. Ever since we made awkward eye contact that fateful, humid day, I've had an ally in that building. We talk about ordering hair products online, she tells me graphic details about her period, I couldn't ask for anything more. 

Tabling is a common occurrence with my company, and something that I try to volunteer to help out with as much as I can. I used to work in marketing at my old job, I understand it's like wrangling toddlers trying to get your coworkers to commit to extra work. But this is my first year at my new job, so imagine my surprise when I saw the email stating every staff member had a mandatory shift at the county fair. Now, I'm a beautiful woman, imagine Miss Piggy mixed with Eva Gabor in Green Acres. I should never be at a county fair, let alone required to work it. But I served my time with minimal complaints. The Sherriff gave me a lift on his golf cart to the wrong fair building and it felt like crawling through the desert to get to where I needed to be. And in the end, the chief of police came to relieve me of my duties and take over for his shift. These are the moments that make my town feel like Stars Hollow, just on a larger scale.

One of my partner and I's friends is the pastor at the local Presbyterian church. He is friendly and accepting of everyone and everything. While reading the local paper one morning in the early hours of work after I get a pot of coffee brewing, I saw a picture of our clergy friend. He was featured in an article about a different downtown event that had just taken place where he was called in and asked to say a prayer before the pie eating contest. The pie eating contest which was sponsored by the restaurant downtown that's most known for their homemade pies. The restaurant owned by local businessman and President of the Board of Education who I met when I was bartending at the Irish pub and he would come in to host trivia nights. I love knowing every single person in this town and how we're all connected. My wedding was officiated by a friend who started as a regular at my bar. We are the world, we are the children, we are the ones who make a brighter day...

There is a coffee shop on Main Street that is the beating heart of this town. I went there on my first date with my now spouse, and that story isn't an uncommon one around these parts. Everybody has a story with this spot, no matter how briefly you're in town for, it's the place to be. When the owner passed away at the end of last year, it was like every single family in town lost one of their own. Patrons turned friends flooded the coffee shop for a celebration of her life and, whether they realized it or not, a celebration of community. I would take smalltown living for the rest of my life if it meant I was able to know the names of my neighbors. My coworker's cousin is a farmer and brought in eggs for all of us last week, I snagged an extra carton to bring to the single dad who lives across the hall who shares his cigarettes with me on stormy nights when we're both out watching the clouds. Befriend the people around you, lend that cup of sugar, smile at a stranger in the grocery store. Keep the magic of community alive even if it scares you.