Chapter 2: A New Beginning

When I arrived back in the United States (three years ago- wow!) I didn't feel compelled to journal or blog much. My life turned towards one goal: finish my stinking degree! As of this May, it's all done! Yay! *pause* YAAAAAAY!!!

While I was completing my studies, my thoughts kept turning back to those relaxing mornings in Barcelona wandering the Ramblas, the afternoons spent dancing through the labyrinths (don't worry! I didn't talk to the fawns), and the evenings spent studying scripture with my friends from the nearby international church. I LOVED Barcelona. And though I enjoyed my time in San Diego, I had a sneaking suspicion that my travels were not over; that San Diego was not the town I would ever feel content to dwell in for the rest of my life. So, I did what any recent graduate in the throes of THE GREAT RECESSION did: peppered my resume EVERYWHERE. Luckily (seriously, unbelievable, it-could-have-only-been-a-God-thing luckily) I landed a job. In Napa. 500 miles away from my family.

Maybe this story deserves some background... I had never been to Napa before. On wait! Correction. I had gone once at night to play a boardgame at the house of a friend of a friend with said friend and the boyfriend and his friends (Farkel, anyone? Also, confused?? You'll figure it out. If not, don't worry about it). Other than seeing Napa once at night, which looks oddly like just about everywhere at night, I had never been. I only knew that they're rather fond of their wine, that it's pretty and that someone wanted me to work for them. I can work with that. Fast forward two months... two weeks into the job and three weeks as a local and I'm actually doing pretty well here.

The funniest thing about moving is that my perception of who I am seems to always change: when we lived in Birmingham, I was the tough girl from Arizona; when we lived in Nevada, I was the belle from the South; when I moved to San Diego for college, I was the country bumpkin from Nevada; when I lived in Barcelona, I was the beach goddess (just kidding! No, but really) from San Diego. Now, I'm back in a small town again, and realizing just how used to city life I had become. Despite being assured over and over again that the neighborhood is safe, that the police chief leaves his door unlocked at night, that the worst crime committed in the neighborhood happened 20 years ago and it was a boy picking flowers out of his neighbor's garden (okay, maybe not that extreme), etc. etc. etc. I still feel a certain dread ingrained in me from those nights spent in San Diego that urges me to lock my doors and think about submitting a request for pepper spray when I sit on Santa's lap this year.

Needless to say, this place may take a while to seep into my veins, but each day has held an exciting (yet safe) adventure. In the meantime, "Hello! I'm Michelle from San Diego, and I just moved here. Pleased to make your acquaintance."