Small Town Woes

In Texas I often saw people I knew. Whether it was at a huge event, such as Austin City Limits Music Festival, or a smaller venue like the Granada Theatre, it seemed as if there was someone I knew personally, or at the very least recognized from the circus of characters in my life.

Sometimes this was good, other times this was bad. When I'd be out on the town feeling social and bubbly with perfect hair and charm, it was a good thing. When I was forced to the grocery store to pick up something really quick, and my hair was disheveled, and I was cranky, this was a bad thing. But it was something I learned to expect.

I don't know why I thought Eugene would be different. I don't know why I thought I could maintain a level anonymity here for longer than a year. The town is half the size of Arlington, and it hasn't fallen victim to the urban crawl yet, so really all of the places to go are IN Eugene.

It has started to happen. At concerts, at Trader Joe's, at bars, at events at the Fairgrounds. I'm constantly seeing people I know, have met, or have dealt with in some capacity, whether they helped me at the post office or sold me a 6 pack of black butte. In one night I saw a guy at the Bier Stein and then again at McMenamins. He naturally asked if I was following him. I said yes.

Despite all of my complaints, I do like this familiarity. This sense of community created when constantly seeing people you know. It makes me feel safe, as though I've become part of their daily pattern of people as well.

In other news, my plans for a walk to the dog park are foibled by the rain. I guess I'll do some pilates and read my upcoming book club selections, which are Island by Aldous Huxley and Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See.