The length of my summer, and surrounding months for that matter, have been spent in the foliage-filled state of Virginia. I never really imagined myself as a Virginian - shockingly enough, the past 22 years of my life were spent not even considering Virginia as a viable residence for myself. I have lived my life in California and have been trained in every aspect of social decorum and mannerisms to identify with locations close to beaches, places that allow sandals as allowable day-to-night wear, and cities that are clearly visible from any of the surrounding fifteen freeways. My arrival in a state where these norms were challenged was only the beginning of my unimaginably ridiculous and entertaining summer. I packed my two suitcases and my carryon and tossed myself into an airplane bound for my new home.

The first night of my arrival, I found myself being driven through a snowstorm. I flew from warm, climate-controlled Orange County to what may as well have been Antarctica - I was definitely not appropriately dressed for such a weather conundrum. I arrived at my humble abode in the middle of a seemingly adorable complex. Yet, after closer examination and a few hours of lurking around, I found that the inhabitants of the Stratford apartments were less than satisfactory - especially when it came to welcoming the new gay (it must have been the short shorts and v-neck that tipped them off). There was a chunk of men in white tanks, jeans exposing at least 2/3 of their underwear, and gold veneers sat conspicuously around the mailboxes - as though they were waiting for government funded checks to pay for their fourteen children to get ice cream. Across the parking lot was another man having a heated debate on his cell phone, walking aimlessly around and ignoring the general rules that are mutually understood in a driver/pedestrian relationship. Just in case, I double locked my front door - which also helped from keeping the smell of weed from wafting into my apartment from across the hallway.

The benefit to living in Stratford, apart from the ridiculously low rent, was that a hefty amount of the people in the show I am in also chose the financially friendly apartments. Spread around the complex, we took five apartments and made them home for the next six months. Conveniently located closest to me, 401B became the instant go-to apartment - this being because they had furniture. My apartment was bare for the first few weeks as I slowly accumulated a few specific items strategically purchased to increase storage. I had a cubby system for the dailies (underwear, socks, and pajamas), and utilized the closet for the items that needed to be hanged. My collection of every colored v-necks swarmed my closet and my newly acquired twin air mattress became my sanctuary. I matched my bedsheets to my bathroom towels to my cups, dishes, and pans. I was living in a sparse environment, but I was not about to consider a way to get a queen sized posturepedic back to California - that couldn’t be deflated.

Virginia continued to smack me in the face with culture. I never realized the difference in culture a mere coastal change could make. I started questioning the state when I took my first trip to Target. I had just gotten my car from the lovely, burly men who lugged it across the country for me - not without incredibly sufficient compensation - and was ready to explore my new home. I left Stratford and ventured to the main road just outside and drove past every chain restaurant one could think of, which were sandwiched in between the most massive collection of waffle houses I’d ever seen in one glance. There would be Ruby Tuesdays, followed by Mama Steve’s Pancake House, followed by Wendy’s, Arby’s, and the Astronomical Pancake House. My biggest problem with this road, though, is it’s unbearably unnecessary speed limit of 25 mph. I’m fairly certain that there was absolutely no reason behind making this low of a speed limit past the idea that driving slower past food makes tourists hungry and more willing to stop in for some pancakes. This was the first time in a long time I had actually needed to consciously think about how slow I was going and why it was taking me 15 minutes to move three feet.

After my drive down Richmond Road, I made my way to Target by passing through a forest. Most Virginians - or even east coasters - would disagree that the bountiful amount of trees surrounding the city doesn’t qualify as a forest, but alas, it is. The general consensus, created by myself and my friend Kirsten from Phoenix, is that if you look at a tree, and then past the tree to another tree, and continue to do so without seeing the end of the mass of trees, that qualifies it as a forest. For people who come from the city and the desert, if trees aren’t strategically placed, it’s a forest. This forest devoured the road for about 3 minutes before spitting me out again into a new area called New Town, that was clearly the Williamsburg attempt at a living development: apartments above, retail below. This is a strategy most major cities have come to love because of the use of half as much floor space for two necessities. It’s an adorable little area that I love because it reminds me of the prefabricated lusciousness of places like Irvine or Mission Viejo, where all of the buildings and houses were chosen from a catalog and built in 3 days. 

Target was just past this lush little village and it’s presence was refreshing. It brought me back to a place with realistic speed limits and predetermined foliage placement. I left Target and made my way back home, a way that would have taken me a third of the time back in California, and realized that this is where I was going to be for 6 months. This was my new home so I’d better get used to it. I had to get accustomed to not-so-fast-food, a city with only one chipotle, drivers who think speed limits are biblically important, policemen who will stop you for chewing gum on the wrong side of your mouth, but most importantly, a place that houses some of the most fantastic people I’ve come to meet. 

This summer reignited my Irish Dance passion that was set on the back-burner a while ago. Not necessarily because I was Irish Dancing, but because I was reunited with friends, met new amazing people, and we all shared that common interest. Virginia may have proven to be an anomaly of places where nothing really makes too much sense, but I have been able to live it out with a handful of people who each brought something fantastic to my life. I spent 7 months in Japan with people from all over the world, being able to explore cultures, customs, and languages. Now, I am given the opportunity to do the same within my home country. The cast of Celtic Fyre is a fantastic group of exactly what Virginia is for - lovers. Virginia has created this adorable little family full of wit, skill, and the occasional alcoholic, and without this amazing experience, I wouldn’t have been able to see what hidden treasures Virginia has to offer - going 25 mph in the middle of the forest.

xx.