Hang in there Emily. I have work clothes that are older than you. If I've found out anything in 52 years it is that the only place I might be fortunate enough to find peace is in my head and in my heart; I cannot go anywhere-large city or small nook on the river bank to necessarily find it. Although it is possible that a person can be in a better frame of mind to find it sitting on the bank watching the river flow.

Gosh, Garrison, Emily Campbell is so lucky!
At the very ripe old age of 22 she has already discovered and appreciates APHC.
I had to move from Houston to tiny Paducah, Kentucky, at the very old age of 37 to even discover public radio. I was hungering for news of the world, you see, and the Paducah Tribune was a starvation diet. And even though I grew up as a Catholic in Texas, I too connect with Lake Wobegon. You've tapped into that deep spring that runs in all of us! God bless you!

Here's part of a poem by Richard Hugo. I have no idea who he is, but he certainly has something to say about people who -- rightly or wrongly -- feel stuck in place. It's called, Degrees of Grey in Philipsburg" (Montana). I found this in a "Moon" tour guide. Sure wish I had written it.
You might come here Sunday on a whim.
Say your life broke down. The last good kiss
you had was years ago. You walk these streets
laid out by the insane, past hotels
that didn't last, bars that did,the tortured try
of local drivers to accelerate their lives.
Only churches are kept up. The jail
turned 70 this year. The only prisoner
is always in, not know what he's done.
The principal supporting business now
is rage. Hatred of the various grays
the mountain sends, hatred of the mill,
The Silver Bell repeal, the best liked girls
who leave each year for Butte. One good
restaurant and bars can't wipe the boredom out.
[There's more, but I thought this much puts across the basic idea.]