I’m Sorry I Don’t Speak Banjo

November 9, 2021

My coworkers think my Kentucky-isms are hilarious. I can’t remember the exact context of the conversation, but my coworker, Paul once overheard me chatting with our boss (Frank from the previous post). When fellow Kentucky native, Frank left the room, Paul said “I’m sorry I don’t speak banjo – what were you two talking about?” and I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. There was another incident with Paul where I was talking about my renter’s insurance with some of our clients (probably as part of my fire story) and in true Kentucky spirit, I was pronouncing it like IN-surance. I said the word about three times before Paul interrupted and said “She’s saying insurance. That’s the word she keeps saying.” I also have a reputation for talking about pork chops more than average Deloitte employees, and it’s not uncommon for me to end a long day at the office with a polite “Hey, you wanna go get drunk at the Cracker Barrel?” I love leaning into the “I speak banjo” stereotypes around here because these assholes from Philadelphia and New Jersey think it is hilarious.

I love Kentucky so much. I love the fact that my family is there. I love the way people talk there. I love Ale8’s and miss the days when I could buy one at the gas station instead of mortgaging my first born child every time I pay for shipping costs to DC. I love Lexington. I love thinking about that ooey gooey feeling I got inside when I lived in Lexington and all of the Christmas lights would go up downtown and the traffic would get bad due to a combination of basketball games and holiday shopping. I love the UK Arboretum and miss being able to run the two-mile lap around the park. I love the grimy Mexican restaurants in the towns surrounding my hometown. I love Hometown Pizza and the chronic cheese sticks they have there. I love thinking about the time my friend Shawna taught me how to ride a horse, and all the times we ran with our friend Katie for run club at our favorite brewery. I love thinking about going to Thursday Night Live and drinking Bourbon Barrel Ale and eating at Local Taco with my friend Rachel. I love that all the grocery stores in Kentucky are cheap, and they always have a healthy stock of Little Debbie cakes. I love Red River Gorge and Miguel’s Pizza. I love Bowling Green and walking on WKU’s campus and reliving my most awkward years, and thinking about the night I met my best friend, Kristin there during a game of capture the flag 13 years ago.

There are a lot of things I love about Virginia too. I love my house and my puppy. I love being so close to the mountains in Shenandoah Valley. I love seeing plays at Ford’s Theatre. I love going to Chinatown for hockey games, and loved being here when the Caps won the cup. I loved living in the DC area when the Nats won the world series in 2019, and I went to the big parade. I love my job – like seriously, I LOVE it. I love the people I work with, and the fact that the diversity of this area has connected me with people from all over the world – Bulgaria, China, India, Texas, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Australia, Ireland, Russia. For the first time in my life, I have friends that all have drastically different backgrounds and upbringings – I love that. I love the satisfaction I get when I successfully navigate DC traffic. I love that I’m so close to New York City, Philadelphia, Pittsburg, and Boston – I hope to start taking some post Covid weekend trips soon. I love the fact that I met Joshua here. I love the life I’ve made here.

Sometimes it’s really hard to know that Kentucky is so far away. When life is busy and good, I don’t think about it much. But when things don’t go my way here, or I get my heart broken by life, I start thinking about how far away I really am. There have been a few days over the last few weeks when I would have killed to give my dad a hug or go for a ride to the grocery store with my mom. But one of the great things about being in this part of the country is that almost every person you meet is in the exact same boat. We are all separated from our roots and far away from our families and closest friends. And some people are separated from their main support by much more than a 9-hour drive. I’ve been on a campaign recently to connect with friends more here, and to branch out to make new friends from work – and my story is not unique among them.

It seems like we are all working hard and killing it in our careers, while trying desperately not to focus on loneliness or missing the people we love. We deal with guilt and shame for not being accessible to the people who used to see us every single day – guilt for not calling enough or visiting enough, or only calling during the tough times (I am especially guilty of this). You feel like this strong, independent badass one day, driving your new 4Runner off the lot with Webbie blaring on the radio, and the next day you can’t stand how selfishly you live. You wonder if the challenging, exciting, rewarding career you have chosen is worth all the time and moments you are missing elsewhere.

I mentioned last week that I’ve been trying to really focus on gratefulness. I think that sentiment extends here. I am challenging myself to feel grateful for my time here in Virginia. I want to be grateful for the friends I have here and all the friends I am bound to meet in the future. I want to be grateful for my time with Josh and getting to meet his family here. I want to make happy memories in this big house of mine, and take this new car on adventures with my little Maudie girl. I can live gratefully and appreciate my life here in Virginia and also make more meaningful connections with my family and friends in Kentucky – connections that are not maintained by guilt or sadness. I can keep in touch and visit them joyfully and build more memories that are worth thinking about and missing. I need to keep in mind that I may not always be here in this spot. Who knows what city my future will find me in? There may come a day when I’m looking back on my time in Virginia the same way I do with my Kentucky years, and I want to have happy memories of my time here. Not tearful, lonely, sad memories. I’m really going to put my heart into this effort. Let me know if you’re in a similar spot, and maybe we can strategize or just share stories. I’d love to hear from you.