OK, it’s self-evident now. You all hate me. After my last column, I learned that I am merely part of a minority with a sense of humor that few people can appreciate. It’s OK, don’t feel bad - I’m learning just as much as everyone else. Cut me a break, I’m from a small town.

Anyone who comes to college after 18 years of living in a small town can probably relate to me. It’s tough to adjust to it all, and to take in all that a city has to offer. Some like it right off the bat, and others want to immediately get the hell out. I’m smack in the middle of the two.

From my experience, I find that small towns can be refreshing. Unlike the gigantic hordes of people who swarm about in cities of Lansing-sized stature, people in small towns know each other, yet like to live far away from each other - far, far away. Not for terms of safety, for terms of convenience. If it wasn’t for college, you would never catch me living in a big city for the rest of my life. I’d go clinically insane.

In small towns, I can walk down the street, and it’s a possibility that I might actually recognize someone and in turn take the time to acknowledge them with a wave or a friendly, “Hi.”

In large cities, I feel as though I have to walk down the street at warp speed, staring only at my own feet, making sure I never make eye contact with a stranger. On a rare occasion, in the case that eye contact is made, I quickly run around the corner or duck into a store to avoid any confrontation. Call me paranoid, but that’s what coming from a small town does to you - well, at least it did to me anyway.

When it comes down to it, I’ll admit that I’m as “country” as a person can become. I like it when it’s quiet outside and when you can go for walks and not get hit by speed demons on bicycles. I like it when you can go to a friend’s house and just sit on the porch and say absolutely nothing and end up feeling like you’ve just had the best conversation of your life. I like it when you can go fly fishing or bird hunting and not get harassed about it by animal-rights activists. I am offended when people joke about how everyone who lives in northern Michigan owns a gun and is a militia member - I’m not a member. I’m glad that I can understand redneck jokes and I am proud of my fear of liberals. That’s me. I’m from a small town. That’s how it is, and how things work.

I’m not into “clubbing” or “networking.” I don’t understand the whole working system of public transportation and how people can rely on it on a daily basis. The logic of opera doesn’t appeal to me, and I am deathly afraid of parking ramps. When it comes down to it, I’m not in Kansas anymore.

I long for afternoon naps and cold wintery days with a fire in the fireplace and for the spring days when you can open your windows and not hear your next-door neighbors chuck a flaming couch off their balcony. I like silence. It is a vital necessity to sanity.

It’s obvious that adjustment to city life is one of my key problems that needs to be worked on. I’ve grown accustomed to getting hit by bikes and walking a mile to class every day, as well as growing to embrace hearing my neighbors at 3 a.m. in the morning through paper-thin walls. How can people get used to this? It’s so unreal. It’s almost an issue of culture shock for me.

I saw a girl with bright pink hair this morning and a nose ring the size of a golf ball emerging from her nostril. Being a staunch conservative, it took all of what I had in me to avoid having a heart attack. I can’t condemn these things because basically I don’t care what people do. The point is that I’m simply not used to seeing things of this nature.

However, by the time spring semester rolls around, I’m sure I’ll be just as callous as everyone else and I won’t think anything of it when I see a streaker on fire, Rollerblading across Grand River Avenue, donning a Ralph Nader sign. By then it will probably be second nature for me.

So please, don’t hate me. Just understand that I am fragile toward these things. A year from now it won’t matter in the least. But for now, I’m still proud to say that I’m from a small town and I will always choose that over city life. I’m foreign to urban living and I can’t let go of my home roots. My “country living” is more than just a way of life - it is my life and it’s tough to be a rookie in a game like this.

Sarah Emery, a State News intern, can be reached at emerysar@msu.edu.