You know how people say you don’t learn to appreciate things until you don’t have them anymore? Totally not the case with the old apartment. I was a bit nervous about all the upkeep I’d have to worry about owning my own home, but this place has been a dream so far! The delivery company came early yesterday, and I managed to slide all my new furniture into place, not that there was a lot. Everyone starts with the basics, right? I’ll add to it later.
For today, I want to go out and explore what’s in town. I met a lovely girl in the park across from my house, her name is Luna and she’s still in grade 11, entering 12 after the summer.
It was kind of cute, and flattering, that she thought I was older. When she found out I was only 19, she was so surprised and praised me on finding a house in this neighborhood. We discussed school, and discovered we both took literature as an optional upgrade over standard English courses.
She even invited me to come check out a book club she was in, and reassured me that it wasn’t full of teenagers. It was the only place she could go to have a good conversation that wasn’t all about boys, she laughed. I was flattered by her invitation, as well as her suggestion to check out the local bar. Though she couldn’t go in yet, she said there was a bulletin board in there that the whole community uses, and thought I might find more friends there.
It took a ton of bravery, but I ventured into the bar that evening to check out the bulletin board Luna mentioned. She was right, the board was absolutely covered in advertisements for clubs, services, and even some local jobs.
I snagged the three remaining slips from a post regarding freelance video editing. That was definitely a job I could do, and I certainly didn’t want any competition applying for the job. It felt awkward, hovering in the door way and only visiting the establishment in order to peek at their board. I wandered over to the bar and took a seat next to a shockingly vibrant looking girl, who nearly choked on her drink when she saw me.
“Well, aren’t you a fish out of water,” she smiled, and somehow her words didn’t sound insulting. “This must be your first time?”
I nodded, glancing around at the unfamiliar surrounding. “I just moved in, on Raffia Way.”
“Where’re you from?” Her voice was warm but chipper, and I imagined she must have had a nice singing voice.
“The city.” I offered simply. I wasn’t at all comfortable sharing details, especially with a stranger.
She nodded slowly at that, as if there was a lot more information to process. “Not many people ditch the city for this quiet abode.” She took a sip of her drink and tapped her long nails on the bar to get the bar tender’s attention. “You look like you’ll fit in here, though. Quiet’s probably your thing.” She turned her attention to the bar tender. “Another please, and one for my friend.”
“Oh, I don’t drink,” I said clumsily.
“You haven’t drank,” she corrected. “But you’re old enough, right? And I’m buying you one.”
The bar tender eyed me suspiciously, then put out his hand expectantly. After a moment, I clued in and fumbled through my purse for my new ID. He seemed satisfied, returned it, and swept the empty glass away.
“‘M Candy by the way.” What an odd name.
I shook her outstretched hand awkwardly. “Brooke Grace.”
“Wow,” she laughed. “And you grew up in the city?” She laughed again and slapped her knee. “I’m taking you under my wing, city gal, starting with your first drink.”
It tasted sweet when it first hit my tongue, but turned bitter at the back of my throat and tingled strangely all the way down. This was a weird first experience, but I haven’t decided yet whether I dislike it or not.
—
I added the first touch of life to my blank backyard and began a small garden. I’m unsure yet whether I will expand the whole backyard to be a garden…I’ve always dreamed of growing all my own veggies but that was impossible in the apartment. We had one of those green roofs where residents could share gardening space, but the list was so long we never seemed to get called for it.
My kitchen is a bit smaller than the apartment’s was, but it’s so nice to have appliances that actually work reliably, and I look forward to cooking with my very own home-grown ingredients!
I met an old lady, Saya, while I was preparing my garden. Unlike the others I’d met, she didn’t even ask when I’d moved in or where I came from, she just chatted like we’d known each other all our lives, and practically adopted me as her grandchild. She spews all sorts of “back in my day” stories about how hard things were for her as a child and how my generation has it easy, but it’s kind of entertaining hearing about her life.
Back in the city, I didn’t really notice how progressive everything felt. There was a great environment of openness and acceptance, probably because of the insane mix of cultures and constant culture awareness the city encouraged. It’s obvious with Saya that she’s from a different time, and a different culture. Every now and then she says something a bit judgemental or even rude by some standards, but the way she just says it is so casual, as if nothing is wrong, and it makes me laugh against my better judgement. I never knew my mother’s parents, so it felt kind of nice to have someone around that felt like a grandparent.
I think I’m doing alright, Mom.
SamAsASim 
She seems like she’s doing great! I love her cautious enthusiasm when trying something new.
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