Watch out, RVA

A few months ago, I left Danville for the “big city” of Richmond, yet I recently found myself at Phil’s Continental Lounge, the most blue-collar bar in the west end. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear I was back in Danville.

Let me back up a bit. On New Year’s Day, I moved to Richmond for a communications job at my alma mater. After three loyal years of newspaper service in Danville and Culpeper, I decided it was time to move on.

The seductive world of politics kept me in Danville—and in journalism—for a while, but even so I began to feel that familiar itch to do something new, something different. Working at newspapers brought me immeasurable professional and life experience, but I (and my editors) always knew those posts weren’t permanent for me.

I’d wanted to move back to Richmond ever since graduation. Something about this city calls to me, although I’m not sure what exactly—the history, the architecture, the je ne sais quoi, the culture. Also: the food! The baseball! People from smaller towns might scoff at Richmond for its hazards; others from bigger cities might scoff at it for its shortcomings. But I suppose that’s not specific to this city.

For three and a half years I longed to move here. To live and work here as an adult, on my own, enjoying the city. Of course it didn’t hurt that I had friends, family and a fabulous boyfriend here, too.

I don’t mean to imply I was unhappy before; Culpeper and Danville will forever occupy prime real estate in my heart. But they were always stops on my way back to Richmond.

And now I’m here.

It took me a few weeks of settling in before I believed that I actually lived here and wasn’t just spending a long weekend visiting B and friends. “I live here!” I’d think. No more long distance dating, no more going through two tanks of gas a week, no more anxiety because someone hated a story I’d written. Of course, that also meant no more getting access to [insert politician’s name here] at a moment’s notice, no more Daily Farmer’s Market—and—no more Erma’s.

Perhaps that’s why I found myself at Phil’s, a working man’s bar, which unfortunately will be no more. Even if I’m in a big(ger) city, I still seek out those places with character. (Of course, I was also at Phil’s because it’s a UR hub and the Spiders played that night in the Sweet Sixteen for the first time in 23 years. We lost—but VCU kept Richmond humming with hoops fever through the Final Four.)

Places like Phil’s tucked into the high-end Grove and Libby neighborhood are what make Richmond stand out among other, bigger, cities. Richmond is able to (almost) seamlessly blend the new with the old—the hipster hangouts and upscale boutiques with the longstanding local institutions.

Sometimes it doesn’t work—like trying to throw in that statue of Arthur Ashe with the likes of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson. But most of the time it does. And hopefully it’ll work with a twenty-something writer living in a 1940s row house* in the Fan.

Here’s to my life Richmond.

*I have absolutely no idea when this house was built.**

**Update: see comment below.

Rebuilding my web

Having a birthday in July is great; it’s like celebrating a second New Year’s Day halfway through the year. It gives me a chance to evaluate where I am and where I’m going.

My 23rd year was not my best. Worse things could have happened, yes, but for me, it was rough. So, understandably, I am thrilled to move on to 24. I don’t know why, but I’ve got a good feeling about this year. I don’t think I’ll solve all (if any) of my issues, but something tells me this year is going to take me places – good places. I look back at the distance I’ve traveled from my last birthday, and I only now fully realize that you can never possibly plan or predict what could happen in a year’s time. All you can do is push yourself forward.

THIS is Charlotte. Photo by HKM

I have a new friend in Danville. Sort of. Her name is Charlotte and she lives outside my apartment, in a web in my back doorway that she rebuilds pretty much every day. At first she creeped me out. Now, her diligence and consistency never cease to amaze me when I duck below the nearly invisible strands of her sturdy web as I leave for work every morning. I realize the relationship I have created (in my head) with a spider is not normal. But I only hope that I can be as committed to something someday as Charlotte is to building that dang web every day. Minus the feasting on bugs part.

I think 24 is a good age. I haven’t hit my quarter-century mark yet, but I’ve also graduated from the “just out of college” phase and established myself as an independent (for the most part) professional. My friends in their late 20s and early 30s are probably rolling their eyes at that – I know, I know. I’m still young. And I’m thankful for that. Last week I was on vacation with my family and made more than a few comments about my current life status, which in my mind is quite up in the air. Meaning, I have absolutely no idea where the hell my life is going. And my mom was very quick to remind me that I need not worry about silly things like that.

“Your life is right on track,” she said. “You are doing exactly what is right for you. People envy where you are right now.” And although it’s easy to forget, she’s right.

A few weeks ago, two friends and I packed up a minivan and headed to Eden, N.C. for a viewing of the new Harry Potter movie at a drive-in. Somehow, I had never been to drive-in theater, ever. We parked and set up camp on the cool grass with blankets, leaning against the rear bumper of the minivan. As the evening light faded and the stars appeared, Harry Potter and his cohorts embarked on their adventures. The movie was fun enough, but it was the drive-in experience that I enjoyed the most. My girlfriends and I snuggled together to stay warm (in July… crazy), snacking on popcorn and fresh cherries, as the temperature dropped a good 15 or so degrees.

There is simply something magical about being outdoors on cool summer nights. The rhythm of the crickets faded into the background of the movie’s score as the smoky scent of grilled burgers wafted across the lawn. Something about the three of us — giggling about how unfortunate it is that the actor playing Draco has not grown more attractive as he ages — sitting on the grass out in rural North Carolina made me feel like a kid again. It was like I was away at summer camp, bonding with two great friends who I really haven’t known very long but can already tell they’ll stick with me for a while.

It’s so easy to look waaaay too far into the future – believe me, I’m guilty of it on a daily basis – and freak yourself out about what you should be doing, what path you should be on, whether you’re on the right one and where it might take you. Frankly, it’s exhausting. Even my daily Google alerts stress me out, making me realizing there is so much more I could be covering at work, if only I had more time.

But we don’t have more time. We have what we have. And at work, it’s 40 hours a week, that’s it. (At least for my job it is; we’re under a no-overtime policy…) The key is to focus on what’s important and not get bogged down with the mundane. I can’t keep stressing out about “shoulda, coulda, woulda.” You simply can’t play that game. You have what you’ve been given and you’ve to go make the most of it. If you don’t like it, fix it.

Since my last post about feeling suffocated in Danville, I’ve made a few changes in my life, determined to regain control. I remember telling The Musician last month that I’d been pretty homesick. Not really homesick for North Carolina, but for good friends. There’s always a period of time when you’re in a new place that you wish for the friends you left behind. I can safely say I don’t feel that way anymore.

"c" items: card, clutch, cigarette (not mine), cell phone, catalog, corona, cold drink

If the beginning of my 24th year is any indication of its remainder, I’m in for a treat. My Danville friends threw me a spectacular C-themed bash (costumes required), which positively overwhelmed me seeing as how I’ve only known them for about three months. Three months that have honestly flown by because I try my best to make the most of the current chapter of my life, whether it’s spent watching movies with the girls, working on stressful stories at work or befriending the bugs in my apartment.

Face it: it’s easy to get worn out, burned out, beaten down from the day-to-day. But keep an eye on that bigger picture. Not for planning purposes, of course – that’s impossible – but for your on sanity and happiness. If something tears down your web, just rebuild it. And know that despite whatever crap you may encounter today, this week, this month, your life is headed in a certain direction.

It’s just up to you which direction that is.