o, othello

"Speak of me as I am."

This line from Shakespeare's Othello has stuck with me since I first read it three years ago. It's become even more prevalent recently. I haven't ever stayed in a location consecutively for any more than three and a half years. This is because of a few reasons.

The first eighteen years of my life, the years where I had two people whom I legally had to reside with, I attended ten different schools in four different states. The three years to follow were of my own choices, all of these spent in the lovely South. I put emphasis on the word lovely because as of late I have been finding that to be a bit of a joke.

 The South, where people say 'sir,' 'ma'am,' 'I reckon,' and 'fixin.' They open your door for you and tell you all the things that you want to hear. That is, I've realized, only to your face. It isn't until years of knowing someone that you can actually be straightforward with someone. Unless a circumstance forces this upon them, whichever comes first.

My husband (my best friend of seven and a half years and soulmate for always) and myself recently moved up North for the first time. We met and began our liaisons in Commonwealth of Virginia. I was ignorantly under the impression that all Northerners were evil, perhaps the very spawn of Satan. I blame modern television and my small-minded upbringing. My upbringing is not limited to those who conceived me, nor to the teachers who inevitably drove me to confusion of the meaning of, well, everything.

By day six of living in the state of Connecticut, we were thoroughly surprised. We had our assumptions and expectations completely destroyed. People were nice. I mean, really nice. People asked how we were. I mean, really asked. I made six friends my first visit to church. I made three at my new job. Before my first day. It was delightful. And you know what? It still is. I'm constantly happier and happier.

There's this thing that they all do, though. This thing that not everyone might enjoy. They tell you what they think. Sometimes, more often than not I might add, when you don't even ask. I had a woman almost cry when I told her that Starbucks was discontinuing the infamous eggnog latte. (Sorry. It's out of my control.)

Some of this has to do with my current job choice... you know, customer service. Customers are always right, right? Wrong. They do have their rights, though. Anyway, I'm getting on a tangent. Back to it.

The people here are real. You know pretty quickly whether or not you're going to enjoy a person. You know right off the bat what isn't gonna fly. Obviously, there are exceptions to this rule... there are always exceptions. But in all... In all that I've seen in these first three months, it's been incredible. It's been real.

Speak of me as I am. Tell me what you really think. Save the fluff for pink fluff. (It's a Southern dessert... it's also gross.) Life should be about getting to know people and yourself. Life should not be spent wondering who a person is and who that makes you. You should know. Really know. And here, I'm finding it out.