Home in the Tennessee Valley

Coming back to Knoxville is always a complicated thing- partially because of the logistics (public transportation to and within this city is prettymuch non-existent), and partially because of a whole slew of conflicting emotions about my birthplace.

I adore my parents, and love spending time in the house I grew up in- where everything sounds and smells right and I generally know how to find things. It's always interesting to see what's changed since the last time I was here. Sad note thought- I miss our family dog- it's a lonelier house without her. At least I got to say goodbye to her at Christmas, and she certainly had a long life, but... I wish she was still here to trot about after me and demand attention and run away from her own farts and interrupt my ab workout. I usually miss having animals about, but here I feel it a bit more intensely, for obvious reasons. Still, it's good to be back, and I'm hoping I can figure out a way to stay for awhile.

One thing I don't remember noticing before is how marvelous it is to be seen as myself. I'm not a label, a profession, a possible connection. Yes, I'm defined relationally- as daughter and sister and whatnot, but mostly I introduce myself as "Caitlin"... and that's sufficient. My major in college, my last job, my hopes for the future... these are interesting things about me, but here they are not my definition.

On the other hand, there are very few jobs in this city, I dislike the football culture intensely, most people are terrible drivers, and I still see it as one of the worst developed places I've ever been. Nor is it exactly a beacon of progressive thinking. Though I did see copies of "Out" Magazine on sale at the grocery store checkout last week, so at least some things are improving...

For the Love of Words

Found a teeshirt while doing an image search for the Bryn Mawr Owl (you know, the one on the lantern) that read "My mother went to Bryn Mawr and all I got was this extended vocabulary"

I'm studying vocabulary for the GRE right now, and while I know that should be an obnoxious task, something about it just warms me to the core. I love words. I've always loved words (helps that Mum was an English major and would get excited whenever we used vocabulary above our age level). And even this rote learning for a test whose relevance I find questionable makes me feel just a bit more intellectually alive.

I miss being a student, miss reading and discussing and all the rest of it- it's so strange to be a young adult graduated from college. This last year, after all, was the first time since I was six years old that I wasn't in school. No wonder so many of us go through identity crisises!


Anyway, favorite word/definition for the day:

Quaff: –verb (used without object)

1.	to drink a beverage, esp. an intoxicating one, copiously and with hearty enjoyment.

Isn't language fabulous?