Hey - been trying to meet you... (oooOOooOOooh)
Dear people who read this (when I actually update it);
As you may, or may not already be aware, I live in Brooklyn. Brooklyn is a really exquisitely edgy place to sink your converse kicks into, and a place where I have learned a great deal. I can hold my own in a meeting these days, including one with people much older and more experienced than me - who knew? - and I have become wiser as regards what environments bring out the best and worst in me, particularly in the workplace. I have had the opportunity to attend many a great reading, even more great shows (long live anti-folk) and if you've ever had the pleasure of walking around the bridges in Dumbo and Williamsburg, you know exactly how many epiphanies one can encounter late at night, slightly inebriated while in that sort of environment (7), in addition to the random warehouses I've walked into and seen kids skating and paintings everywhere, and omg I had no idea I loved Mexican food so much until I came to NYC.
So, in other words, I've had a lot of exposure to some really great shit, and some really intriguing people, and been part of shows, parties and a lot of art in progress. My job affords me the possibility of discovering new writers and cultivating their work. My friends here are varied and have taught me the most random cool things - anything from how to make a comic on an apple program to how many bottles of wine it takes before I say really insipid things about past loves (usually 2.5)...
And. In case you're wondering where this is all going... I'm leaving.
I love New York. I actually can say that with a decent awareness of what it means now, and I do. It's vibrant and keeps you up nights with fresh ideas and you will never, ever exhaust all its back pages and alleys.
BUT. I don't belong here. I miss trees. I am becoming a bit closed and hardened and even cynical (imagine, ME, cynical? I know. Crazy.), and some days I just don't recognize myself. I don't like how I don't smile at strangers anymore and how I notice what brand people's sweaters are (the first time I did that, I actually gagged. Terrifying.), and I don't like that it's not a good IDEA for me to wander at 3am by myself along the river. I miss fog and trees (did I say that? TREES.) and people being guileless and unafraid and unabashed about being idealistic and excited about causes and damnit. DAMNIT. I'm leaving.
I'm moving to Seattle in August with Greg, (God help us, there will be so much art everywhere in our apartment), and I hope you'll all support the decision. Alex is being really awesome about the whole thing, considering, as he knows I need to be independent and figure out what I want and, of course, that I do not fit here. It's just never going to feel like home here. And I want to live in a harbor town that feels like a harbor town and I have *always* wanted to live in Seattle. So...
Let me know your thoughts.
<3
Me
As you may, or may not already be aware, I live in Brooklyn. Brooklyn is a really exquisitely edgy place to sink your converse kicks into, and a place where I have learned a great deal. I can hold my own in a meeting these days, including one with people much older and more experienced than me - who knew? - and I have become wiser as regards what environments bring out the best and worst in me, particularly in the workplace. I have had the opportunity to attend many a great reading, even more great shows (long live anti-folk) and if you've ever had the pleasure of walking around the bridges in Dumbo and Williamsburg, you know exactly how many epiphanies one can encounter late at night, slightly inebriated while in that sort of environment (7), in addition to the random warehouses I've walked into and seen kids skating and paintings everywhere, and omg I had no idea I loved Mexican food so much until I came to NYC.
So, in other words, I've had a lot of exposure to some really great shit, and some really intriguing people, and been part of shows, parties and a lot of art in progress. My job affords me the possibility of discovering new writers and cultivating their work. My friends here are varied and have taught me the most random cool things - anything from how to make a comic on an apple program to how many bottles of wine it takes before I say really insipid things about past loves (usually 2.5)...
And. In case you're wondering where this is all going... I'm leaving.
I love New York. I actually can say that with a decent awareness of what it means now, and I do. It's vibrant and keeps you up nights with fresh ideas and you will never, ever exhaust all its back pages and alleys.
BUT. I don't belong here. I miss trees. I am becoming a bit closed and hardened and even cynical (imagine, ME, cynical? I know. Crazy.), and some days I just don't recognize myself. I don't like how I don't smile at strangers anymore and how I notice what brand people's sweaters are (the first time I did that, I actually gagged. Terrifying.), and I don't like that it's not a good IDEA for me to wander at 3am by myself along the river. I miss fog and trees (did I say that? TREES.) and people being guileless and unafraid and unabashed about being idealistic and excited about causes and damnit. DAMNIT. I'm leaving.
I'm moving to Seattle in August with Greg, (God help us, there will be so much art everywhere in our apartment), and I hope you'll all support the decision. Alex is being really awesome about the whole thing, considering, as he knows I need to be independent and figure out what I want and, of course, that I do not fit here. It's just never going to feel like home here. And I want to live in a harbor town that feels like a harbor town and I have *always* wanted to live in Seattle. So...
Let me know your thoughts.
<3
Me