Where the Hell is Iowa?

Texting with my cousin the other night and I tell her, "Move out here I need a cohort in crime."

She replied back that it was too expensive and she is really liking her new place in Georgia. She moved there recently from West Virginia and so far likes it a lot. Of course I had to agree with her. California is really an expensive place to live. The cost of living is ridiculous. I told her we would like to move someday after we have kids.

"Where to, Utah?", she asked.

"Probably", I replied. "Or wherever I get a job. Or decide to go. Maybe Oregon?"

"Too rainy", she declared.

"Oh yeah, West Virginia?"

"NOOOOOOO", she texted vehemently.

"Oh yah, my kids would have accents then huh?"

"That would be the least of your worries", she groused. Her recent life in West Virginia still fresh in her mind.

"How far away would I be from you?"

"8-10 hour drive"

"Oh, well I can fly to Georgia faster than that, so never mind. How about Iowa?" I asked innocently.

"Who the HELL moves to IOWA!??!!??", she hollered. (yes, I'm sure that's what it was. I know because I speak text fluently).

"Missy!", I replied indignantly and kinda proud that I knew someone who moved to Iowa.

"Wait, WHERE is Iowa?", she asked.

"Uh, somewhere in the middle? I hear it's pretty", I answer vaguely while I rack my brain trying to pull up a mental map and figure out where Iowa is.

I really just can't place it. Not surprised considering I flunked Geography in high school. Yes, Pat Kent flunked me. Big ole F. Thanks Pat. It's now officially YOUR fault I have no idea where Iowa is.

Ok, yes, I know, it really isn't Pat's fault. She did her best. I was a little hard to handle. Uh, hello, ADD girl right here. So I'm sure I deserved the flunking. The push-ups in front of class, standing on my tiptoes for two hours and getting locked in a closet with my desk, we may need to speak about Pat. Was that really necessary? What? It was? OK. Fine. You win.

Now fast forward to later that same evening when I am recounting this text with Sara and she's laughing at me and my cousin's antics. Then she looks all adorable and says, "babe, I don't know where it is either". Now we are cracking up. So we start trying to decide where it could be.

"Next to Minnesota?", she ponders.

"No, that's too high up. I think it's like farm country so that's like in the middle. But not totally cuz then it would be like, Kansas. It's not Kansas. It's Iowa."

"Oh, well isn't it above Utah?"

"No, dork that's IDAHO"

"Oh, next to Idaho?"

"I'm pretty sure that is Wyoming and Montana. One's on top of the other", confused about which is which. I did mention my mad skills in geography, right?

Finally, we gave up. Too lazy to open the laptop and look we decided to just ask Missy where the hell Iowa is, anyway.

Then today I was telling Loretta at work about it and she said, "where is Iowa?" and it hit me. NO ONE KNOWS WHERE IOWA IS!

Like seriously. It's a secret, hidden state that you've only heard of but never seen. Like a leprechaun or unicorn.

The mysterious and magical Iowa enchants and beckons you, while somehow staying mystical and hidden. It may in fact be an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. It could!

There may be an Iowanian version of Sherri sitting there right now living an idyllic Iowa life: watching the sun go down over a perfect Iowa landscape as her kids play in the front yard, Sara making lemonade and chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen. Iowa Sherri strums her guitar, perfectly and completely in tune I must add, the whole time smiling in the knowledge that her secret is safe. After all, no one knows where Iowa is.