City Girl

City girl.

The words seem to be coming from everywhere. And they are true. I may not have grown up actually in the city, but now I have moved to the real country and finding out exactly how much of a city girl I am.

'I'm a dreamer, not a builder,' I said and the 2x4's and stain pails and drills start laughing and pointing whatever kind of fingers they have. Even tho I don't speak Buildish I know what they're saying. 'Country Girls are builders. Only city girls are dreamers,' they cry.

I walked into the cow shed, and the cow, the bales and even the milk pail glanced at me disdainfully and started whispering to each other. I knew they were talking about my city girl clothes and soft city girl hands. 'She can't even milk for 5 minutes without stopping. And look, she didn't have her own chore boots so she had to borrow some! What a shame this world has city girls.'

Even the games mock me. 'You city girls, you just go for coffee or shopping or head to town for other overstimulating things when you have a minute of spare time. If you would stay home and sit down and play a game, maybe you would enjoy it more. You would be a better sport for sure and maybe your attention span would be longer.'

The puddles call to me when I go to and from school. They don't mock me tho, they chuckle as I turn from the road to break the ice and wade in their depths. 'Thank you, City Girl,' they say in the shaky tones of those who won't be with us much longer. 'We don't get many visitors even tho we will soon be gone. Thanks for taking the time to come see us'

These voices made me think I was a city girl. But then I went to a real city and heard voices there too.

The first time I heard the new voice was a few hours before I left for the big city. 'You are nervous of this little airport?' it seemed to say. 'How will you cope in the big airport where you can't read the signs or understand the words that are floating around you? Maybe you should stay where you belong, Country Girl.'

Once in the big city, the roads and vehicles together raised a chorus of voices. 'Drivers in real cities don't get mad at other drivers. They've all got important places to go to.' 'What. You've never seen overpasses under underpasses? Quit staring, Country Girl!' 'If you weren't such a country bumpkin you would know that it's not actually hard to drive in the city.' 'You have gravel roads where you come from!? We-ird!'

Fancy buildings and sky scrapers take up the scornful chorus next. 'Why do you care about seeing the sky when you can walk in to us and see the amazing architecture or items we have for sale? Don't just stand outside trying to see the boring sky and the burning sun, Country Girl! Come inside and see what we have to offer!'

Even my seat in the airplane mocks me. Sure it gave me extra comfort and lots of room. But it whispered in my ear that I wasn't dressed right, I didn't act right, I didn't even eat or talk right. 'Country girls should stay in the back of the plane. They shouldn't try to fit in in business class where they don't belong.'


So. I am neither Country Girl, nor City Girl, yet I am a bit of both. I will always be a tiny bit City Girl, but I would prefer to be a Country Girl. Maybe this place will make one of me yet.

Amistad = Home

I have lived in many places. Different continents, countries, cities, towns, and now even villages. My heart has been left in so many places, I don't know which to call home. 

I can tell because your eyes are sparkling, he said. Just 2 days later, she made the same comment. Your eyes are sparkling. 

Some people just click. Connect. You know how and what they are thinking and what they will say. You (or vice versa) can rage and say anything to them and not worry that they think you are weird. They probably do think that but like you all the same for it. Good times and crazy times happen and you get into scrapes together. 

Some people are always there for you even if it's not in person. They will always answer your messages, be it a few minutes, an hour or days later. And when you do get to see them and hang out with them, it's as if you hadn't even been separated for weeks. 

Some friends are new. Yet you feel like you've always known them. They're warm and welcoming and you always feel at home when you're together. They accept your intermittent craziness and don't let you become bored or boring. 

That's where I want home to be. In a place where going away feels like being gone forever not just 0101 days. Surrounded by old (time-wise and age-wise), new (time-wise and age-wise) and especially crazy friends. Where my eyes sparkle.