small towns

So I just got back from the post office.

I just realized this actually requires some prefacing. How odd. Here goes: I've found myself involved in an online swapping community. We swap various things--mostly scents, bath and body nonsense, that sort of thing, but also going out to handmade crafty things like painted boxes (which I gave a basic whirl about a month ago) and jewelry and such. I recently learned chainmaking via chain maille techniques, and only have the very basics under my belt. But one of the fine ladies on that forum wanted a charm bracelet, and most of the work I've done in the medium was something that is usually used as a base for a charm bracelet. She actually wanted to buy, not swap, once she saw a photo of the piece. So thus I got my first $25 (although I only asked $20) for a handmade item. So I sent it out, and she got it, and she likes it. Go me. That little bout of attention-deficit was entirely beside the point.

The point to the preface is that I find myself sending out little packages all the freaking time. When it's what we consider an even swap, it only costs me the postage (fifty cents, usually), and I get to try something new. Otherwise, I usually get reimbursed the postage. This cost analysis again brought to you by my lack of focus today, which is sometimes the case for me on Mondays, given that I usually get about four hours sleep the night before.

Okay. Let's try this again. I went to the post office in a nearby town, as that post office is a lot less busy than is State College's (notoriously long lines, and at lunchtime? forget about it). This town is nestled against Mount Nittany, and has a rather lovely little strip. My point here is that it's a tiny town (whoops, digressing again). So I was at their little post office, sending out three little packages, and on my way out, noticed that someone had left their car running while they ran in.

Then I realized that as soon as I stopped living with my dad, I had taken for granted that I'd never again live in a town where it's safe to do that. And I don't now. But it's neat to know that it exists, and so close by. I wouldn't do it there, but that's probably because I know how small towns work, and I'm not part of that small town. It's not that I think the people there wouldn't look out for me like they would their fellow residents, but that they don't know me well enough to get in touch with me if they needed to, or know whether or not I'd welcome the help.

Given that I moved from my dad's village to Beloit for college, which has really shady areas that are not safe--South Beloit being even worse--the switch to becoming more paranoid when it came to my car's security was a natural one. A good friend there had his car broken into while parked in the same lot I parked in all the time. That's not to say that Beloit's horrible, especially in the area around the college, but--well, stuff happens.

And stuff happens here in State College, too. Nothing I can think of has hit so close to home here, though. And S.C. has been rated the best small city in terms of crime. That study even states: "In particular, the burglary and auto theft rates are among the nation's lowest." But now that my concern for my vehicle was raised in college, I can't really go back. I have a friend who has a very low concern when it comes to security. I see that friend leave things unlocked all the time, but I just can't bring myself to do it. Heck, I even lock my computer when I leave my desk at work.

The moral of the story? I'm perhaps overly paranoid. But we knew that. On the other hand, it's probably better to be on the safe side. But in either case, it's nice to live near places where people aren't as concerned. It makes me feel better. (and on another non-focused moment note: I also adore that my commute takes all of fifteen minutes, tops.)