A California Girl In Kansas

Dear Kansas,

Well, it’s been a good run.  And to think that I didn’t even know where you were located for the first 23 years of my life!  I’m pretty sure that on every geography test where I had to fill out a map of the US, you were one of the pesky states that I never could quite get right.  Let’s face it - you’re not on a coast.  And I hate to break it to you, but that renders you irrelevant to everyone who is on a coast.  You’re just “one of those states in the middle” or “one of those damn red states” or an “I think I have a cousin who lives in Kansas” kind of state.

I’m not going to lie.  I was pretty sure going into it that everyone who lived in Kansas a) had a mullet, b) drove a pick-up truck and c) considered everyone from California to be either a fruit or a nut.  Truthfully, I wasn’t all that far off.  Except for the mullet thing.  Not nearly as many as expected.

There have been some rough moments.  Like when I realized a certain group of people here say “set” instead of “sit” when referring to sitting down.  And the whole pronunciation of El Dorado as “El Dor-ay-do.”  Or when I found out that people in Kansas go to rocky mountain oyster feeds and oysters aren’t actually the item on the menu.  But there really have been a lot of good moments.  A surprising number of good moments, really.

I had to let go in Kansas.  I had to throw away the notion that somehow I was better than anyone here because I came from a cosmopolitan city with a population greater than the entire state.  I had to give in.  I had to give up a bit.  I had to grow up a lot.

It’s sort of odd to do most of your growing up in a place far away from where you, in theory, should have grown up.  You do it alone.  Independently.  You make a fair number of mistakes.  Or, in my case, a LOT of mistakes.  But the truth is that I don’t regret a single minute of it.  I don’t think very many people believe me when I say that, but I really don’t regret a single thing about moving to Kansas or the way in which I’ve spent the past three and a half years of my life.

I poke fun of the situation quite a bit, but The Ex, the guy I moved to Kansas for, is a genuinely good guy.  Not the right guy for me, but a good guy.  And while it didn’t work out for us, I have no doubt that our relationship pushed us into better places as individuals.  I mean, the man is now married with a beautiful little girl.  And I’ve realized that I am in no way ready for that kind of commitment.  If I had settled down at 23, I know (and I knew then) that I would have woken up one morning, realized that I was well into my thirties or forties and living a life that didn’t quite… fit.  And I would have panicked.  Like the kind of panic that prompts you to throw everything you can grab into a suitcase, hop into the car and drive until you are so far away that you can finally breathe again.

I made friends here that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt will be my friends for life - Jill, Jana, Linda, Dan, Chris, Jenelle, Omar, Lisa… Plus my KC blogging friends who I will always keep up with thanks to the power of the internets.  While some people make their BFFs in college, I made only one (Martine!).  I made the rest in Kansas.

Kansas gave me cheap rent, cheap(er) gas and cheap beer.  It introduced me to the wonder that is Super Target (with a Starbucks inside!).  It allowed me to be on the cover of the features section of The Wichita Eagle and to be interviewed several times thereafter - even for a story about being single on Valentine’s Day.  Hilarious and pathetic, but true.  Kansas gave me the chutzpah to go back to school.  It also got me laid off and donating plasma for cash, giving me the kick in the pants I needed to start following my dreams and blogging professionally.  Kansas gave me a corporate job with free Starbucks coffee and some of the weirdest and most wonderful co-workers imaginable.  It also let me travel the country on the company’s dime.  And it introduced me to Linda B. who invited me to travel to the Caribbean with her for her birthday.  A trip that affected me so profoundly that I’m actually going back there to live.

Kansas pushed me to join my Delta Gamma sisters again.  It gave me Bunco night and girl’s nights out.  It introduced me to the legend of Crazy Mike.  It even gave me Carly who, for all of our drama and conflict, will always have a soft spot in my heart and is possibly one of the funniest people I’ve ever known.  Kansas pushed me outside my comfort zone.  It gave me a grown-up apartment with grown-up furniture and appliances that I actually own.  That was my certification of adulthood - appliance ownership.  There’s no turning back once you’ve reached that milestone!

Kansas introduced me to Tony, Adam, and Jon - relationships that didn’t quite work out but taught me a helluva lot.  Kansas gave me Lola, my Pug, my best friend and my constant companion.  I never knew I could be a dog person.  Then again, I never knew I could be a Kansas person.

Kansas taught me that it doesn’t really matter where you are - there are good people and good things to be found anywhere.  You just might have to look a bit harder and a bit deeper to find them.

Most importantly, Kansas taught me a lesson that I will never, ever forget - grow where you’re planted.  Make the most out of every situation.  Never give up.  Always believe that you can make every day fabulous and fun.  Give everyone you meet a fair shake.  At the end of the day, or at the end of three and a half years, you’ll find that the one place you never thought you’d live is the one place you can’t really imagine living without.

To everyone who has followed me, from day one to one thousand, I could not have done this without you.  To think that A California Girl in Kansas is about to come to an end is completely bittersweet.  The exciting part is that A California Girl in the Caribbean is just beginning.  And I hope you’ll be along for the ride.

And to Kansas, from the flat wheat fields to the west and the beautiful, rolling Flint Hills to the east, you’ll always be a part of my history.  You’ll always have a piece of my heart.  And you’ll always have people who insist on pronouncing shit wrong.  But I love you anyway.