Part of my Make-up

I was going to write a post inspired by an idea from Liz Armstrong's most recent column in the Chicago Reader, but Cover Your Mouth beat me to it (and with more finesse than I would have), but I'll say that the lines from the column have stayed with me all these days later and I find myself thinking about them as I drift to sleep and quoting them to friends over a beer as we talk about another year coming to a close.

“Chicago’s a transient city, which makes it exciting—there’s always something or someone new. But eventually everyone you know leaves. People from small towns come to try out living in a city; people from larger cities come for a break. Eventually they all move on.”

I read it with interest not least because my whole life has been transient.  I know that sounds pretentious--isn't everyone's life at least a little transient?  Even so, mine--especially the first half--seems to have been particularly so.  By the time I was 17, I'd moved nine times, and I've doubled that number in the 13 years since.  Raised by educator parents on various military bases in Japan, Korea, and Germany, I was surrounded by transience.  On weeks we weren't losing a kid in class, we were gaining someone new, usually someone so overcome with the awkwardness of being a fresh face, it'd be a month before he'd even make eye contact with anyone. 

Twice, I was the new kid in class, the latter time falling in October, and on my first day of school--Halloween--I wore black leggings, a black turtleneck, and an orange cardigan, hoping my obvious spirit might win me some "cool points" and maybe someone to sit with at lunch time. I was 13 and I spent the whole rest of the year trying to get Nate Moore to notice anything about me other than my supreme dorkiness and bad perm that refused to grow out. He didn't, and when on Valentine's Day, the only flower gram I received was from equally dorky Thomas Castillo, I resigned myself to being the laughing stock of the school until summer turnover promised to bring a fresh crop of geeky military brats to alienate and shun.

When I moved to the states for college, I couldn't wait to put down roots in one place for four whole, solid years--maybe even longer if I decided to stay after I graduated.  And I did stay in Springfield, Missouri for two years past graduation--I stayed until all of my friends from school moved home, moved to other cities and states, just moved away.  I stayed and I put down more roots than I had anywhere else in my life, until Springfield was home and I knew the names of the cashiers at Dillons, the fastest route to TableRock Lake, and all the best swimming holes in Greene County.  And of the 30 million Chinese restaurants in town, I knew where to find the best Cashew Chicken in the entire Midwest.  I was also, at any given point in my 6 years there, always within a mere two degrees of Brad Pitt, who had become Springfield's biggest claim to fame, knocking Kathleen Turner, the Bass Pro Shop, and "It's Only Forty-Five Minutes from Branson," into 2nd, 3rd, and 4th places, respectively.

When I drove out of Springfield towards Chicago seven years ago, trailing my then-boyfriend in a Ryder truck with two of our three cats, I watched until Springfield became a dot in my rearview mirror, and past Rolla, and Sullivan, St. Louis, and the expanse of the entire state of Illinois, I held that dot somewhere in the bottom of my lungs and exhaled only when I was sure it'd become part of my chemical make-up.  It was a trick I'd picked up when I was young.

I was reminded of the trick again the other day, after reading that column about the transience of Chicago, and NYMan was here and I was telling him about a job I'm interviewing for next week.

"And one of the best parts," I said excitedly to him about the position, "is that it's an annual contract job.  And since I'd just be replacing someone and not starting a new year, I'd only be contracted until August, and August is the goal date I'd set for myself to move to New York!  August or September."

"August or September?" NyMan asked, cofused.

"Yeah.  Late summer, early fall.  That gives me a good amount of time to pay off my credit card debt and save money to move."

"I thought you were planning on moving in March." he said.

Suddenly, my chest tightened.  March is only three months away. I thought of suffering through another Chicago winter just to leave right when the weather started warming.  I thought about picking up my roots and starting all over again somewhere brand new. I thought of leaving my friends, and my favorite coffee shop, and the lakefront, and my bike, and March just seemed way too soon.

"No, I want to wait until August or September," I replied, "I want to get my debt paid off and save a little money before I go.  Plus, why stay through the winter if you don't get the benefit of spring and summer in Chicago?  And my friends.  And, well, I'm just not ready to go yet."

"That's okay," NyMan said,"I don't want to put any pressure on anything.  You move because you want to, and whenever you decide to.

And I do want to, I really do.  I've been wanting to move to New York since the first time I visited.  It's the only place I've ever been where I consistently feel completely myself, and I don't even know how or if or why that makes sense, but I know I have to be there.  And now I have even more reason to go, and so I will. I've already decided I am. 

But, I guess, before I join the transient masses again, before I move on my way, I want to hold Chicago in the bottom of my lungs for just awhile longer, and exhale only when I know it's part of my make-up.

Comments

[Chua Chern Toong]

An absolutely wonderful and thought-provoking post! Guess we're all transients in one way or another, whether it's in an actual physical sense, or in a more figurative, state-of-mind kind of way.

[Schnozz]

I'm going to sound all Buddhist or something, but people who expect things to stay the same are often, I think, the most disappointed, because nothing is forever. I'd rather accept the transience and do some exploring.

That said, I think it's great that you're planning so carefully, and there's nothing wrong with enjoying where you are a little longer. The happy medium between paralysis and runaway syndrome is so very hard to find, and it seems like you're doing a fantastic job of it. Good for you! :)

[Stuart]

Even makeup can be more of a part of you than it seems - part of your look, the way you're happy present yourself to the world...so don't rush. But when you know you want to go, you've got to go. Just like being sure it's time for a new look. I'm sure this town will yield up a few surprises in the way of new friends, coffee shops and novel space-saving bike storage strategies.

[Laura]

wow, THAT was beautiful.

[SC Todd]

Wow.
That was a very pleasant post.
Very nice.

[Cover Your Mouth]

Please, girl, you've got finesse to burn. But thanks for the link.

It may only be Chicagoans who understand that feeling of having really EARNED your spring and summer by surviving the five-month winter. Totally understandable that you'd want to stay through August. NyMan seems very Zen. How lovely.

[citywendy]

Zen! He's a neurotic Jewish New Yorker, but, yeah, maybe he is more zen than I give him credit for.

[RennyBA]

Here from 25Peeps and say hello from Norway. And while I'm at it: wish you a lovely end to your week:-)

[Jay]

Chicago's already in your make-up I'm sure. Hey, don't do all that lung holding, just return to Chicago whenever you need some more of that Chicago air. It's one sweet place to visit, especially if you've lived here before.

[tim]

Would you become "City Wendy in the Naked City" if you moved? Just askin...

[Zandria]

You'll know when it's the right time. :)