22 September 2008

48 Hours in a Square State

I just got back from a whirlwind trip to Kansas. I'll admit it, I have a soft spot for my home state. From the outside, it must look like what Syria appears to be: a harsh landscape full of screaming hysterics. It's not really. But much like the Syrians, Kansans don't do them self any favors when they vote against teaching children about evolution or decide that the ten commandments should be displayed in court (this law was struck down by the very court in which the commandments were to be displayed, which is delicious irony, dripping with goodness).

Every time I return for a visit, I decide to move back, and within a few days, decide that maybe it would be a better idea to drink bleach or shower holding the toaster. Here's a chart that explains how this process went this time:

Desire to Move Back (Scale of 1-10)

Approx. Time in Kansas



-4.0 h

Baseline level of wanting to move back to Kansas. Board plane.


-2.0 h

So many nice midwesterners on this plane! Even the flight attendants are acting like maybe I am not a turd! Also, compared to the hyper-educated world of Washington DC, I am basically Professor Badger amongst these people. Also, I am dressed really cool, even though in DC I look like a refugee.


-1.0 h

After plane change in other square state, approaching Kansas. Accent begins to resume it's strange quirks. Creeks become cricks, roofs sound like a dog barking, ten and tin are pronounced identically. Square states look very peaceful from 30,000 feet.


0.25 h

Disembark in an airport full of polite people.


0.5 h

See my brother! Hurray!


1.0 h

Drive fast on an uncrowded, open interstate through the country side. No traffic.


1.5 h

See my sister-in-law, niece and nephew! Hurray!


4.0 h

Eat lunch at cool restaurant that does really nice food. Feel like maybe Lawrence might be the tiniest bit hip. Meal costs $20 for two and is considered expensive. I swoon.


9.0 h

Fun times eating dinner and drinking wine after the kids are asleep with brother and sister-in-law, enjoying deck and yard and big house.


22.0 h

After a good night sleep, in which I did not hear the No. 96 Bus or a single ambulance, police car, or helicopter, K informs me that the three bedroom house with a huge yard and a deck next door is for sale and the mortgage would be 200 dollars less than my rent. I weep.


38.0 h

Still riding high on real estate heroin, but read local newspaper. In six minutes. I think I might need a longer newspaper than that.


39.0 h

I haven't seen a 7-Eleven in awhile. Muy triste.


In the name of research, check out the number of gay personal ads on Craigslist: five. Uhhhh... am I the only gay in the village?


39.5 h

Cousin's crazy girlfriend calls my brother's wife to ask if she can baby sit her kid cause she and my cousin are having some tough times because she forgot to tell him that maybe she is a lesbian but maybe she isn't so anyway she moved in with a drug addict and anyway why don't they get together some time and can you take care of my kid while I get my meds adjusted? I realize there are benefits to living thousands of miles away.


47.0 h

On plane home and nice midwestern lady next to me WILL NOT SHUT UP FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IT'S SIX FIFTY-FIVE AM.

In summary, my scale of 10 is incapable of expressing the emotional roller coaster that is returning to Kansas.


Arjewtino said...

Great. Now I'M all hopped up on real estate heroin. Thanks.

crabbyro said...

Oh Badger-

Cheap real-estate, being able to drive fast, and being smarter than everyone in a 100 mile radius far outweighs a skinny paper and family nuisances you can avoid by not answering your phone!

MB said...

I think you deserve a bleach shower while holding a toaster for even considering the idea.

The Princess said...

I am right there with ya, buddy. Every time I head to MO, I kick myself for not living there...until I read the newspaper or talk to anybody outside of my home (and sometimes even inside of my home).

Princess Amber said...

Hometowns have strange umbilical properties untill you spend long enough there to remember why you left...

echidna girl said...

For me it's realizing that I'm not only overdressed, it's that behind the smiles everyone secretly misreads me as being "too big for my britches" and a stuck up bitch because of it. Then the desperation of knowing that I'd have to slum myself down sartorially and intellectually just to fit in again.

But you can't beat those butter statues at a MidWest County Fair!

Ann said...

OMFG. How did you get inside my head during EVERY trip I take home?!