My First Fourth of July

It's been a full five months that I have lived in this new (American) city.  Having come from outside of the United States, I wasn't expecting Independence Day to be as festive and celebratory as it is.  I spent my first American fourth of July with a very familiar friend - someone visiting from back home - and also an amalgamation of new friends that I have made since my move.  It's amazing what happens over the course of five months.  When I first moved here I literally knew one person, and he lived outside of the city.  Over these last five months I have pushed myself to see more of people and the city, give more of myself for others to get to know; and ask more of others and give them the space to tell me more about them.  I have gone on a half-dozen first dates, a handful of random meet-up groups, events ranging from monthly art/food festivals to the pride parade around the city, and a bunch of other random things in between.  Moving here I knew that integrating would take time; adjusting to work would take time; building a life here would take time.  And my experience here thus far has proven that to be true, but now I am able to see and feel baby sprouts of roots.  I'm starting to feel like I have a base here.  By no means would I say I'm settled, but I can say that things feel good. 

Happy Fourth of July!!! 

Abe Lincoln

The Way It Is