As a hoarder of apparel, sweatpants, sweaters and fuzzy socks feel just right. As the victim of a food addiction, corndogs, pizza and macaroni fill me up just right. As a musician, a tuneful melody and a well-placed lyric ignites my passion. As a believer in ambiance, matching color palates, tasteful artwork and clean lines make my house a home. As a family boy, a dinner with the parents and sister makes me feel like a kid again. As a friend, laughter, banter and memories bring me back to Decorah. As the lover of a boy, a quiet glance, a hand in mine and a kiss goodnight keep me flustered for quite some time.
Well, my friends....
I don't know if you know this or not, but some of these things don't exist in my corner of the desert. So, like I said above, I'm trying to make do. My house is decked out with art and curtains and throw pillows to the point that you could very well think that Martha Stewart had gotten completely sloshed, had a severe lapse of judgement, and moved to Phoenix. Alas, she didn't. But I read her book and I like her taste.
My refrigerator and cupboards are filled with every kind of macaroni that is available at Target. Not kidding. There are 7 flavors. I had the Buffalo flavor tonight and it gave me heartburn. But it was worth it. OHHHH, was it worth it. The price I pay for eating the food I love is insane. After some meals, I have to curl up on my couch with Constantine and together, we weep about my burning esophagus. And I haven't even made a dent into the stash of pizzas I have in my freezer. Honestly, its overwhelming to the point that I'm quite positive that I could open a Pizza Hut.
My clothing options are limited in the desert and if I were to attempt to wear sweatpants and a sweater, I would surely die of heat exhaustion within the hour. So for now, tank tops and short-shorts will have to do. HOWEVER, I have a plethora of scarves hanging in my closet that are too ridiculously cute to not wear at some point. Dearest November and December -- GET HERE. Tenderly, Andy. Maybe the single most devastating (non-important) thing about Phoenix is the lack of fall. Fall is my very favorite time of year. It doesn't exist here. That means immediate dismissal from the list of places I would be willing to live in for longer than a year or two.
One amazing thing here in the desert is ASU itself. The musical theater/opera program here is wonderful. The professors are so knowledgeable and so encouraging, which now that I am writing it, sounds a bit generic, but I write it with genuine sincerity.
I miss my family. That's pretty basic though, so I don't think that needs any explanation.
As far as my friends go, I have about 9 of them now, which is 9 more than I had 3 weeks ago. I count this as a huge success because I clearly recall telling the Boy Person that if I came home for Christmas break having made 6 friends, I would be satisfied. Well I can tell you with a good amount of certainty, that these 9 people are nice humans who have welcomed me to their world in the sand and I am grateful for them.
In my first month here, I have discovered that this school of music is like any other school of music, and is populated with people that are obsessed (rightfully so) with their craft. They are only able to (or willing to) converse about the latest vocal pedagogy or the best audition songs or their immense knowledge of obscure Broadway shows or whatever other musical topics you can think of. I am so thankful for having learned in the last year that, for me, there is a lot more to life than technique and shop-talk. I want to live a life outside my profession and if that makes me less good at theater and music, so be it. I have an admiration for those that are so incredibly dedicated to their craft, but I do not envy their chosen path.
As far as my other friends go, there seems to have been an adopted pact that states that everyone must move as far away from each other as possible. My closest friends from college have spread out, not only across the country, but across the world. Its sometimes hard to imagine that just a short while ago, we were all sitting in the same small little room, eating spaghetti and drinking wine (they were drinking wine; I was drinking rum....keeping it classy) and laughing about being fake-bad....and now, we are out and about in a big way. The best part is, that if any of us were to have guessed then, where we'd be right now, our guesses wouldn't have even been close. However, I have the feeling that each of us is on the right path, in one way or another, and that is comforting.
The Boy Person. Oh, the Boy Person. The only goodbye that sucked more than when I had to say goodbye to him in Minneapolis, was the goodbye that occurred at the end of his visit here in Phoenix, 2 weeks ago. Someone once said something about how love hurts, and let me tell you, its true. I was at Barnes and Noble a few months ago, and in my desperation to adequately prepare for this whole moving-away thing, I flipped through the pages of the book "Long Distance Relationships for Dummies." Thank the Baby Jesus that I didn't buy it. It had all these rules and regulations and timelines and junk that probably would have given me an ulcer the size of Texas. Luckily, a wise friend who we shall call JogieBear, told me the only thing I need to remember how to do, is communicate openly and honestly about everything. This has never been a problem with the Boy Person and I, so we're doing our very best. I'm trying to appreciate the situation with its new parameters, and so far, the best thing I've come up with was best stated in a tweet: long distance relationships teach you that you will be grateful to spend every day together, someday. I can't wait for that day. But I'll have to, allegedly.
The most positive aspect of my time in the desert so far: I'm not dead yet.
I've survived heat, dehydration, a terrible diet, lack of familiarity, loneliness, acoustics, spiders, a scorpion, a non-Nordic choir, and a credit card that sometimes begs me to buy a 1-way ticket to home. But for better or for worse, this is home for now....and while there is an unforgivable amount of beige in this state, I won't be one to follow suit.
Be well,
A
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