officially here

That's Robert, my manly mountain neighbor, putting on my new Tennessee license plate, which I just got about 20 minutes ago. (Which, was on its own an interesting experience. I never really thought of licensing a car as a cultural event, but it most certainly is. In Johnson County, TN you don't have to have emissions or safety. I didn't even have to show a photo ID. $65 bought me a new title, plate, and an invitation to come to the local church up the street. And while I waited for the friendly city employee to enter my information, I could have taken my pick of coupons that had been cut and gathered in a basket on the table. These details would not be part of a SLC car registration experience, I promise.)

I know it's no big deal--just a license plate, right? And that it is. It is also a nod to feeling like I've officially moved. 

When I came out here a year ago, I found it quite poetically appropriate that I lived in the border area of NC and TN. I observed that as you drive across a border, or walk across one--like I can do 1 mile up the road, that not much changes. There is this zone where the boundary, though legitimate, doesn't have any obvious impact. Those kinds of differences start showing up, sometimes, about 30ish or so miles outside of the border.  (As one little bit of evidence for this, I suggest you compare the conversations at the grocery check out line in Mountain City, TN to those you hear in Boone, NC.)

I could get cheezy here, but I try not to. 

Let's just say that, one year ago, nearly all aspects of my life matched up with the feeling of living in that border zone. My days certainly were different, but I wasn't far enough away from the pace or memory of the past to feel like I was entirely in a new place. There was nothing to do about this, and nothing wrong with it. It was just where I was at---still not quite 30 miles out from the life I had known.  

So, besides being legal again (I've been driving around an unregistered car since April. I know, I know. My bad), this little bit of governmental regalia feels like a physical acknowledgement that I've officially crossed the border. for a moment at least. :)