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Mulling things over
Apr. 22nd, 2011 12:36 pmIt's hard to post too many specific details about Ye Olde Hunte for Ye Postdoc, given how many people and how many uncertainties are involved, in both personal and professional contexts. But in any case, the whole process gives me a lot of food for thought. You know, about where I would like to live, and what things are priorities in my life, and whether or not I can ever imagine myself having children.
Visiting a small town in Texas was informative. My mind kept singing, "Deep in the heart...of Texas!" over and over again. I was driven around everywhere, so I never had much of a chance to get my bearings. I also couldn't get a sense of what it would be like to ride a bike around. If anything, drivers there are inattentive, not as openly hostile as they are in AZ. I'd want to wear strobe lights, day and night. The historic portions of the small town were interesting and begged for further exploration. I'm a firm fan of dense housing and historic homes. Walkability.
The suburban homes seemed slightly less evil there (=less stupidly huge and taupe), in comparison with the ones here, although they still had the problem where all of the garages faced front-and-center towards the street, and porches were diminuitive or nonexistent or tucked away on the sides of the houses. Homeowners associations are generally problematic. It's funny, how controlling they are, and how many of the people who put up with them will still shout at you, "Don't you tell ME how to live my 'Murican life!" It looked like there were tons of people just trying to enjoy their American Dream in that town, something I find generally unappealing. I crave color and quirks and diversity - funky hobbies, innovation, ingenuity. Hippies. And there weren't any chances to really go hippie-hunting, though I found a few reasonable indicators online. The small town has a farmer's market, and an organic food market.
Also, Cajun food. There were a couple of places dishing out crawfish and etouffee. This was eastern Texas, which borders Louisiana. I had a grilled cheese sandwich and hush puppies for lunch one day. I'm conflicted about eating crawfish, though I think in the long run I'd choose to eat them because they are an invasive species. Assuming they wouldn't make me sick (I had a bad experience with some shrimp a while back). I'll eat other arthropods, just generally not ocean-derived critters because those populations need all the help they can get to survive. But overall, boy, things sure smelled delicious at the Cajun place.
The stay in Texas wouldn't be permanent, though it would be for a while - two years or more, depending on the funding situation and how job-hunting goes. I worry that I'd get stuck, geographically, if I went there. S and I both worry about making friends, and dealing with social isolation. Arizona's got better access to other western states, so it's an easier starting point for forging connections with coastal colleagues.
I have a feeling that I'm going to go through these somewhat agonizing decision-making processes a couple of times in my life - this won't be the last time. I suspect it never gets any easier, and it's never possible to know what's really the best. Life just goes on.
Visiting a small town in Texas was informative. My mind kept singing, "Deep in the heart...of Texas!" over and over again. I was driven around everywhere, so I never had much of a chance to get my bearings. I also couldn't get a sense of what it would be like to ride a bike around. If anything, drivers there are inattentive, not as openly hostile as they are in AZ. I'd want to wear strobe lights, day and night. The historic portions of the small town were interesting and begged for further exploration. I'm a firm fan of dense housing and historic homes. Walkability.
The suburban homes seemed slightly less evil there (=less stupidly huge and taupe), in comparison with the ones here, although they still had the problem where all of the garages faced front-and-center towards the street, and porches were diminuitive or nonexistent or tucked away on the sides of the houses. Homeowners associations are generally problematic. It's funny, how controlling they are, and how many of the people who put up with them will still shout at you, "Don't you tell ME how to live my 'Murican life!" It looked like there were tons of people just trying to enjoy their American Dream in that town, something I find generally unappealing. I crave color and quirks and diversity - funky hobbies, innovation, ingenuity. Hippies. And there weren't any chances to really go hippie-hunting, though I found a few reasonable indicators online. The small town has a farmer's market, and an organic food market.
Also, Cajun food. There were a couple of places dishing out crawfish and etouffee. This was eastern Texas, which borders Louisiana. I had a grilled cheese sandwich and hush puppies for lunch one day. I'm conflicted about eating crawfish, though I think in the long run I'd choose to eat them because they are an invasive species. Assuming they wouldn't make me sick (I had a bad experience with some shrimp a while back). I'll eat other arthropods, just generally not ocean-derived critters because those populations need all the help they can get to survive. But overall, boy, things sure smelled delicious at the Cajun place.
The stay in Texas wouldn't be permanent, though it would be for a while - two years or more, depending on the funding situation and how job-hunting goes. I worry that I'd get stuck, geographically, if I went there. S and I both worry about making friends, and dealing with social isolation. Arizona's got better access to other western states, so it's an easier starting point for forging connections with coastal colleagues.
I have a feeling that I'm going to go through these somewhat agonizing decision-making processes a couple of times in my life - this won't be the last time. I suspect it never gets any easier, and it's never possible to know what's really the best. Life just goes on.
