Sunday, June 12, 2005

No Escape

Small towns are cliches aren't they? I don't think that just Hinton itself is the only kind of small town there can be either. There are plenty small towns within Hinton. Think about it.... Everyone's work place is like a small town because there is a group of people within it that are the centre of any talk that may be conversed. Everyone knows everybody at work, for the most part. Everyone knows eachother's business and we all have our own little cliques. I personally am a bit of an outcast at work because I am the youngest and the things that the other ladies talk about are their children, recipes, etc. Things I am not very interested in. But there are a few ladies that I would rather work with than others. I am not ashamed to admit that I have had discussions with other ladies about someone else's questionable work ethics. See, just like a small town. Another very obvious kind of small town, is school. More so high school because it is so dramatic, with all of the new hormones floating up and down the hallways. No matter what we do, we can not escape small town bullshit.

So even though I am moving to another province, a better provice, I will still be subjected to the usual small town dramatics. I am moving to a small town, surrounded very closely to two others. I know that once I get there, I will be the new girl... I will be that person everyone is going to quickly try and categorize. I will be categorized based on my appearance first. Then by who I am with, as well as who I will warm up to first. In my case, my very spunky, outgoing cousin, Alex. There it is, I will be put in Alex's group, whatever that may be. I am prepared for it and quite happy that the two of us have always been very much alike.

My cousin Alex has always lived miles and miles away. She is my best friend, since we were just little, even though we didn't always get along. But that had to do with the same small town behaviour that lyes in each family. Her family moved around often and too often it was farther away from me. I visited her in Louisiana, Wainwright, Edmonton, Qualicum, and Dallas. Well I didn't visit her in Dallas, but that's all the different places that she's lived in while we were growing up. Now she resides in Qualicum, which is quite close to Coombs, where I will be living. We have always been the type that rarely keeps in touch when we're away, but once we reunite, it's like we never left eachother's sides. I am very fortunate that my mom decided that moving to the island was the answer.

I realize that all of my last few blogs have been related to moving. But my whole world, each day I think about it. There is so much to be done and very little time to do it. Yet I am sitting here at my computer writing about it, instead of actually doing it. Am I avoiding it because I am lazy and don't feel like tidying up or is it because subconsciously I am afraid that packing up makes leaving that much more real?

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