Another round-up of Tuesday Three Things That Happened Last Week.
I. THE NEW JOB
After a few months of freelancing, I have a new job. A dream job if you will. Freelance writing drove me a little too deep into my own head and working in pjs was fun until I woke up and realized I hadn’t worn actual clothes in a week.
Also, sporadic paychecks from writing gigs don’t really *work* anymore in Seattle, with our sky-high rents.
I’m a writer/editor for a cool company that helps bands and shows with ticketing and promotions. The coolest thing about it that it embodies a Come As You Are mentality, so I could probably get a forehead tattoo and they wouldn’t blink an eye.
I’m working for the man in a creative capacity without actually working for The Man. Perfect. And this is a company that REALLY gives back to the community, so that makes me feel good, especially after my whole age-33-meaning-of-life crisis. I’m not bragging, I want other dream-followers to stick it out and find the job they really want.
I get a week off to volunteer and am already fantasizing about volunteer opportunities.
-Rescue/name/bottle feed orphaned baby monkeys in Costa Rica? (I’ll call this one Danger and this one Milly…)
-Volunteer to find out what happened to Lindsey Lohan?
-Work the cafeteria of some fancy writer’s conference? (Hey, Toni Morrison, I slipped you a copy of my latest. Hope you like these mashed potatoes).
I’m already enjoying perks like conversations with actual humans in the middle of the day, office dogs, and air conditioning.
II. It’s Not Goodbye, It’s Bon Voyage
This is a bummer: I had to say goodbye to some really good friends of mine because they left our glorious state for another.
I am super happy for them because I know that moving long distances (thrice!) has made me a better, happier person because it’s incredibly frustrating and also fun.
As much as I would like to, I can’t be like: “no stay and we can stay like this forever and nothing will change and then you’ll wake up at 80 and regret that you missed an opportunity because your friend got all emo about you leaving.”
It takes a lot for me to make friends (I’m a giant weirdo), especially here where the social scene is a maze of passive-aggressive invitations to happy hours followed by passive-aggressive refusals.
Sigh. Here we go again.
III. I WAS HERE FIRST
Everyone and their brother is moving to Seattle and judging by Saturday’s packed summer fest, my neighborhood is the quartier du jour. It both pisses me off (I WAS HERE
FIRST!! SECOND) and amuses me.
When I moved to Seattle eight years ago, this was the reaction from most of my friends:
I’d never leave Chicago. You know it rains there, every day right? And they don’t even have a basketball team. And the suicide risk is high. You might as well move straight into a mental hospital because those clouds are gonna drive you nuts.
[Drops bags off, looks out window] OMG this place is amazing! Is that a sunset or is that God’s hand coming down to personally bless this place because it is the most.beautiful. in the whole world?
Even with my awesome new job, I cannot afford rent that’s much higher than its current $1,600 a month for 700 sq.ft and I’m terrified I’m living in the next San Francisco.
And with all the new condos/traffic/pedestrians darting into the street, my neighborhood feels a little less like MY neighborhood.
I’ve lived here on and off since I first moved to the city, when it was uncool amongst my hip writerly coworkers who (then) lived on The Hill and thought White Center was too dangerous and West Seattle too suburban. I live on a peninsula and get to hang out at the beach pretty much every day so, I’ve been pretty happy.
Does wanting to join an anti-development coalition make me old?