Last night I went, along with my boyfriend, Jim, and my friends Shane and Tiffany, and the chocolatier, Tim (more on him in a minute), to the Chuckwagon Dinner at the Oasis Motel on the north edge of town. Basically, it's an outdoor dinner (roast beef, green beans with bacon, potatoes with bacon and cheese–do you notice a theme here?–and salad and brownies and iced tea, lemonade, and water; byob if you want booze) with music and some dancing, as you can see. This is the only really good shot I got of the dancing, though I took a bunch, and I may post a few to Flickr later. I'm such a recent digital camera convert that I haven't gotten the whole action shot thing down yet. (Incidentally, is anyone else having difficulties with the drop down menus when posting photos? I can't get them to be visible to anything but "the world," which makes me reluctant to post pictures of friends, since my non-online friends tend to be a bit shy about having themselves visible to the world.)
I've actually gotten a bit hazy about which parts of my life are online and which aren't, so, with apologies for any repetitions, here's the "a little more about me" part.
I'm 30 years old, and I live in a tiny town in northwestern Wyoming called Meeteetse. I'm not sure what it means–I've seen at least three different interpretations, but it seems to be Indian in origin. I moved here four months ago to take the first full-time job I've ever had. I spent my twenties going to graduate school (I got an MFA in Nonfiction Writing–one of those really useful degrees–before I went to library school) and working odd jobs and being unemployed and travelling a lot. It was a good way to live, though it did create a certain amount of debt. I feel pretty stupid about that part now, but on the whole, I don't regret it.
I am the librarian here, and a lot of people refer to me that way, as in "Hey–librarian!" I find it charming, mostly, though some days I wish my identity was a little bigger than "librarian." But it's such a small place that there's often only one of everything, and so people who have regular jobs become the thing they do.
I don't normally make friends in a new place very quickly, but I have here, which seems like another sign that coming here was the right thing to do. Shane and Tiffany run the local coffee shop, and they help out with various other work around town–ranch work, fencing, painting, whatever. Jim, the guy I've been seeing for a few months now, paints and does other handyman work when people can convince him to do it. Mostly he tries to avoid work. And then there's the chocolatier, Tim, whom I'm sort of friendly with. He's a cowboy, but he also makes chocolates. I'm thinking of seeing if he'll barter truffles for better web design.
Anyway, to get to the horses part (a little out of order), this afternoon I went horseback riding with Shane and Tiffany up in the Shoshone National Forest. I forgot my camera, so I don't have pictures, but if you've been on my Flickr account lately, it looked much like many of the other hikes I've taken. Tiffany did take a picture of me on Baby, the palomino, so when she sends it to me I'll post it. I haven't been on a horse since I was six, so we just did a short (maybe 45 minute) introductory ride. We still got up pretty far, though–it's amazing how much farther you get on a horse than on foot. Then we came back down, and Shane, his nephew, and Tiffany's daughter went for a longer ride while Tiffany and I sat around and gossipped. Tiffany's daughter is ten and very funny. She was telling me on the way back about her imaginary friend George, and she was delighted to hear that I had an invisible friend George (what can I say–it amuses me). She told me a long story about George, which I regret to say I've forgotten, but it had to do with moving to Hawaii and the Denver Broncos and the color orange. Last night at the Chuckwagon dinner she asked Jim if he'd brought his friend, and he said yes, pointing at me. Today she wanted to know how I'd met Jim (he was one of the people they rounded up to help me move in) and if I liked him (yes).
There is something great about the name "George." If I remember the story correctly, when I was little I wanted my name to be George. I had a pair of goldfish that I named George and Judy (which is my mother's name). Apparently I told my mom that Judy was named after her, and George named after me.
I think you could do a better website for Chocolatier Tim, but don't cut the line about "THE HEART OF MEETEETSE'S FINANCIAL DISTRICT" (though mixed-case never hurt anyone).
Trading Web design services for food and other random goods is a very rural thing to do. In Vermont, people trade tech-related services for maple syrup.
It's amazing how quickly you've really integrated yourself into your town. Boyfriend and everything! I've been in Vermont almost a year and we haven't met too many people, but maybe that's because I came here with Adam so the need to get out there isn't as great.
Steve: I'm sure Freud has absolutely nothing to say about your story. Not a word. My mom's name is also Judith–I can date how long she's been friends with someone by whether they call her Judy or Judith. There is certainly something about the name George, though–sort of like there's something about "the heart of Meeteetse's financial district."
Meredith: Mmmm. . . maple syrup. I really can't believe how quickly I've found a community here. I would guess that being by myself when I came out helped somewhat–I had to get out and meet people, or I'd just be stuck with the cat, who's lovely, but her vocabulary is limited. It was also helped somewhat by the fact that this town is so small that everyone knew I was coming before I got here. . . I'm told, actually, that I was advertised as being single when they were asking for people to help me move in. Sheesh!