thanks, Gilmore Girls

I would like to take a moment to officially thank the television program Gilmore Girls for getting small towns all wrong. There's not some hot, persnickety guy running a diner downtown that has like the best coffee ever. There's not some magical corner store that sells Clinique and all kinds of other cool things. There's not a town square where decent shit goes down on a daily basis. And there is not a mesh of quirky people that keep me tuning in every week.

Instead, there's a town full of people who know who I am, where I live, and that I've been painting the past couple weeks even though I've never met them. Maybe it's the city girl in me, but that creeps me out. Yeah, in Minneapolis I had a better chance of getting mugged or violated or any number of things. But people ignored me there—didn't give a crap what I did. There was a mutual understanding that we didn't care about each other. That we weren't going to pry. That my personal decisions [whether to get a job, or have kids, or whatever] were none of there business. Here, I have people hinting that I should have kids every other day. I know I just need to get used to it. I minored in intercultural studies and know all about culture shock. But writing papers on it and living it are two different things. Anyway, that's all I have for now. And I'm planning on painting some more next week just in case you were wondering...