This week feels weird.
This band will change your life. Or it won't. The thing is, they're really good. We discovered them in Memphis and already have tickets to see them in Little Rock at the end of the month. What is it about beardy men with guitars that makes me just want to get naked immediately? Reowr.
I am conflicted, you guys.
I hate the South, right? I always have. I hate the small minded bigotry and the lack of culture and color and night life. I hate double negatives and the ever dwindling educational system. I hate that I have spent 21 whole years here. The problem is, I have discovered in the last year or so that I maybe, kindofalittlebit, love the South? I know. That's stupid. But really. I love that I was raised to always be polite. I love smiling at complete strangers and not being thought creepy. I like boys who are chivalrous. I love camping and bluegrass. I say "Y'all," a lot.
So I am needing some life advice. And by advice, I mean someone to make all of my important life decisions for me.
I have an opportunity to move to Brooklyn in January with a friend who's going to grad school there. I've never even been there. But, you know, I hear good things. And that's what this ridiculous life is about, right? Going and seeing and doing and becoming?
I think it would be stupid not to go. But Jesus Murphy, that's a lot of people.. and pollution, and crime, and traffic. I just really see nothing wrong with staying here, playing in my garden, hanging with my dog and the people I grew up with. Is that just fear talking? I'm afraid so. But maybe it isn't. Maybe I wouldn't be able to breathe in a town bigger than 80,000 measely people.
I'm terrified of making decisions. They're so final, and I am just so flakey.
So, I mean, just let me know what I've decided, blogpals. I am washing my hands of it.