Bluegrass Mass

This evening, I biked to an Episcopal church for Bluegrass Mass. This week it was all Carter family songs, including "Will the Circle Be Unbroken" and "This Train Is Bound for Glory." I felt like I was listening to Dusty and Ace, at an intimate Avett Brothers concert, and a little bit Taize and Seagrove all at once. Tov, tov, tov. Tov m'od. (That means "very good" in Hebrew.) They handed out tambourines for the last song! And I ran into a classmate from The Personal Essay, AKA The Class That Changed Everything. I took it in my last year at Davidson, and without it I never would have thought about grad school for creative writing. So it was tov m'od to see her. And on the way to the church, I saw what appeared to be a family's pool that was open to the community, with an entry booth and everything. There's something really delightful about seeing people walking along the sidewalk with towels slung over their shoulders. Kind of like seeing cars full of adults--I always guess they're going somewhere fun.

Wait, Wait...Don't Tell Me comes on at 3 p.m. on Sunday, and This American Life and Car Talk are nowhere in sight. Don't they know the three are supposed to go together, preferably on Saturday mornings? I broke my French press and had to buy another one. Something stung me, and I didn't get a good look at it. I couldn't find any shorts in my size when Old Navy was having a big sale, even looking at two different locations. It feels like I will never know my way around the city. I miss Wilmington and the people there like crazy. I found out I was supposed to sign up for classes, like, a month ago. But a bad day in seminary...pretty much better than any other day.

Ha ha! I knew I got that last sentence, minus the "seminary," from something else, so I just looked it up. Joey said it to Ross on Friends about a threesome. "Your worst day with two women...pretty much better than any other day." So I guess I'm as happy about seminary as some people are about (the idea of) being with two women. But as I was saying, I feel unfaseable. Boundlessly joyful. These things do make me grumpy, but it's like, "Eh. Not that big a deal." Because I'm still riding the wave of novelty and excitement from being in a new place with new people and new routines.

Most of all, I feel satisfied in a way that only living in a big city can make me feel satisfied. Solitary and social, mellow and frenetic, I feel like all my moods are allowed and taken care of when I have so many choices, even if I'm not yet taking advantage of them and don't even know what they are. At the Bluegrass Mass, the overwhelming feeling was of a deep hunger I didn't know I had, finally being satisfied. It's more than just feeling sophisticated and cosmopolitan or watching my calendar fill up with cool things; it feels, actually, like swaddling. There's something comforting about having businesses near my home, people always about but not always interacting with me, being able to walk and actually get somewhere worth going. I'll wish for a change soon enough, but for today, the Dixie Chicks can have their wide open spaces. As excited as I was to come here, I never expected to be this happy. Thank you, God, for this place and this day.