Taaake, take me home, 'cuz I don't know where any roads are, taaake, taake me home

Toledo (pop. too many mean people), I had figured out. Got about four and a half years in there. Learned the roads. Knew the backroads. Knew 18 different ways to get to the mall. You know, the important stuff.

Oshkosh (pop. I don't know), I don't so much have figured out. Granted, I've been here two months. And, granted, I didn't have a roommate (really ...) freshman year in Toledo, and I lived in an apartment. That pretty much meant if I were to eat and survive, I'd have to learn how to get around.

The Fiance and I drove around last Friday so I could learn to get places. In life. No, in Oshkosh. He's been here as long as I have (I have three days on him, actually), but there's something about my brain that doesn't understand that sticky concept of north-south-east-west. Or road names. Or highways.

I know Appleton is north, and I have NO problem finding the mall.

I know Fond du Lac is south, and I've been there.

I know there's a lake outside my window, and that's east.

Sheboygan's around here, and I know that's fun to pronounce.

But as far as "hey, meet us here," goes, forget it. In my fuzzy understanding of Oshkosh, there's Highway 41, the road to my mom's, Ohio and all things familiar one way, and the mall and all things I just "like, need" to the north. And around 41 are access roads. The frontage road. And Wal-mart is on one of those roads. So is Walgreens (what are the odds, those suckers are everywhere), and a Pizza Hut.

I know what Murdoch is. He owns Fox. And, that's where the other Pizza Hut is.

I know there are four bridges. (Aren't there?) and that none of them leads to Terabithia.

I know where South Park Avenue is, and that it's the magical road that brings me to Target.

I know where there's an electric pink house.

I know where work is.

I just don't know what it's all called. Maps don't help. Directions don't help. I can't put it all together. I can't leave, say, Target, and go to the electric pink house without going back home first.

I would say "Hey, Fiance, let's go driving around." But really, I need to associate places with things. I need a road to mean something to me: I drive home on Washington. I go to Target on South Park. Work is on that one road. Dang.