Goodmorning, starshine!

Does anyone remember that song? When I was younger, it was constantly being played in infomercials for CD compilations. On beautiful sunny mornings, I always think of it...

Most of you know that I have an official blog for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Minnesota's Do! Campaign. I thought I should start my own on the side, since sometimes my thoughts are non-fitness related (who would have thought!) and I feel more comfortable sharing them in this sort of atmosphere.

Well, save for changing my license and registration over, I am officially a resident of Wisconsin. This place we now call home is so interesting. I thought being "out in the country" would be more like when we visit Jeff's parents outside of Eau Claire, WI. The drinks would be cheap, and the folks would be excited to see us. Not exactly. On more than one occasion, I've been asked "Why you talk so smart?" or "why do you call it Vodka Soda? It's not made with pop or anythin?". For the first time since I was a little girl, I almost feel like an outsider because of my intelligence. I can't tell if they are laughing with me, or at me.

Growing up in the north metro, I always felt like I was in the country. I mean, raised on the lake 7 miles out of town? Clearly country! Getting excited about going to the big city? Country!

After I moved to Minneapolis, I finally felt like my character was evolving. Not only was I transforming on the outside (losing the weight, converting to contacts, going back to my natural-ish haircolor of blonde)...but my eloquence was emerging again. I blamed my nature as the catalyst for my outcasting as a child. Sure, obesity was a hoot and added to the struggle, but children don't necessarily appreciate an extensive vocabulary and witty strength in discourse. Being in the city and growing up, I finally was able to let all that cleverness out.

Now, being here...where I'm not supposed to travel north of Hwy 8 because of the VERY REAL existence of inbreeding...I feel like I'm out of place. I feel like I don't belong. On my training rides, people shake their heads at me, almost to say, "You know, they make cars so you don't have to bike". Our neighbors seem to hide in their houses to avoid meeting us. My only friend right now is Tootcat (he smells as his name implies). He seems so happy to see me, so grateful to hear my voice.

Jeff's been pretty great. I admire how he has taken so strongly to his job. I've met some of his coworkers, and they seem to really respect him. But we have both felt the awkwardness of being in an unfamiliar place. Sure, I no longer need the GPS to get to Minnesota, but I almost need a GPS to navigate the social waters of this foreign land.

Oh well. My friend Jessica assures me I'll get my niche and feel at home soon. The problem is, when I'm at our home, I feel on top of the world. Safe. Wonderful. It's passing the driveway that seems to change everything. Boo.