Column: Making it in Missoula

Escaping the Garden City: Claustrophobia in Missoula’s Close-Knit Community

By Big Sis, 2-13-07

I’m running away.  My Valentine’s treat to myself is to get out of Missoula.  I’m going to the sun, the sand, and the sea.  I’m off to Mexico with some scraped-up airline miles and unpaid leave. 

Alone.

And here’s why: the community here is starting to feel claustrophobic.

Maybe it’s the gray weekend skies and the heavy Snowbowl snow.  Maybe it’s this fourth month of cold Montana winter.  Maybe it’s the starting-to-feel monotonous job, or the starting-to-feel monotonous singledom.  Or maybe I’m just in need of a vacation.  Or vitamin D.

The comment that brought many of these recent feelings of restlessness and monotony to a head was uttered by Hot Mama’s husband, Beefcake.  At a recent dinner gathering, various good friends announced their pregnancies, engagements, and otherwise exciting life events.  Beefcake turned to me with a pat on the head and said, “And then there’s Big Sis.”

Exactly.

I’m too predictable in my monotony, in my lack of life-changing news.  My people know I ain’t got nothin’ new going on.  I gotta go break some new ground.  It’s time for a little escape from the community. 

I can’t seem to remember anyone’s name, though everyone looks familiar.  Yet many of the nameless people know my story, or lack thereof.  They ask the surface questions, friendly and innocently inquisitive: “What’s new?”

“Nothing,” I answer.  “Just working, playing, you know,” I answer nonchalantly.

“Any new men in your life?” they ask, inevitably.

“Just trying to process the old ones,” I joke (humor is a good defense, right?).  “It’s a tough job—there were three of them, after all.”

So, here are the questions, Missoula readers: do you feel at times that the tight-knit community here can be both a blessing and a curse?  Do you, too, need periodic escapes from the tangled webs and sometimes-too-supportive circles?  A place where nobody knows your name?

And if so, do you feel a bit guilty, like I do, for the sometimes-irritation and claustrophobia caused by our undoubtedly awesome community?  Please share, if so.  Maybe it’ll ease my guilt.

Here’s another example of the brewing feelings of restlessness: I attended the 4th Annual Tropical Party this Saturday, hosted by a couple of friends.  Those of us who are veterans (I think there might be 5 of us who have attended all four parties) affectionately call it the “Hot Party” since the gracious hosts turn the heat up to 90 degrees and boil vats of water on the stove to stimulate lower latitudes amidst the lingering Montana February.

I vaguely remember the first party—it was such a treat to be hot my first winter here.  I danced bizarre hybrid latin dances with men I barely knew, and laughed hysterically with women who had nothing in common with me but our coconut bras.  The next year I think we did limbo (or was that a tequila-induced dream?), and I was so excited to meet all the new folks. 

This year, I realized we’re all getting older.  We still get fairly drunk on strange sangria mixtures, and have a super great time.  But now the women in coconut bras call me by nicknames, and the men are dancing with their wives instead of switching partners. 

It’s good.  We’re growing up.  We buy houses and have big parties and big hangovers with our big mortgages.  Or, like me, big hangovers, big empty beds, and no mortgage (which is, luckily, why I can fly to Mexico for a week with no strings and no worries).

But it makes me sad that I currently seem to have lost my fascination with Missoula.  I want to still wonder, excitedly, who I’ll meet at the party, and not dread the inevitable questions: “Are you dating anyone?  What’s new?”

I’ll tell you what’s new: I’m taking my tropical party to the tropics.  I’m going to a village where nobody knows my name.  I’m going to spend a few days away from my community, away from expectations, and dating, and familiar faces.  And then I’ll run back as fast as I can—because running away from Missoula is only fun since I know my people care enough about me to ask questions upon my return.

It might be a mixed blessing in this tight-knit, family-style community of the Garden City.  But I’m betting a little escape will brighten Missoula right up.

Hasta pronto, buena gente.

* Quick update on online dating, since that’s the next question asked by community folks: “Find Mr. Right online yet?”

“No,” I answer.  “I barely have time to eat between that working and playing.  Plus, the last thing I want to do after my desk job in front of a computer is to go home and hang out with a computer.”

(Except, of course, when I write these really stimulating Making It columns.)

But those are just excuses.  The reality is that I’m still intimidated by online dating, as well as skeptical of the process.  However, since I announced my intent a couple of weeks ago, I have set up profiles on two different dating sites, a big step for me. 

And I will now take a deep breath and drink a celebratory beer while waiting for the instantaneous appearance of Mr. Right.  No, just kidding.  I’ll make a go of it upon my return from sun, sand and some solitude in the South. 

Don’t forget to check out this month’s new theme for the You Made It Contest: what’s your best non-chocolate-heart, non-Hallmark Valentine’s Day in Missoula?  Tell us your story or your friend’s!  Just send a few paragraphs to bigsis@newwest.net or littlesis@newwest.net by the end of February for the chance to win a bouquet of Bitterroot Flowers or a Ten Spoon Winery bottle of wine.

Also—anyone out there with a burning story to tell, whether it’s about online dating, Valentine’s adventures, or claustrophobia in Missoula, feel free to contact us about writing a guest column.

We want to hear from you about how you’re Making It, too.

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