I've lived in Seattle one month.
Subtle difference, huh?
I now have two jobs. One at a spa, probably the easiest job I've ever had. Ever. In my life. I read and play on the internet and maybe take 10 phones calls in the span of 8 eight hours. That's it, no joke. My other job is at a salon called VAIN (aka Bladerunners 2). It's pretty huge so I'm busy all the time, everyone there has been amazing so far and since a majority of the employees are around my age, I'm guessing I'll have a serious social life real soon.
Neighborhoods no longer too foreign, bus lines make a bit more sense, yet still searching for a decent burrito.
A strange thing happened walking home the other night. I looked up to see Queen Anne reflected in Lake Union, a sight I've seen almost every day for a month now, but it was different. For the first time, it struck me that I live here. Really live here. I realized up until this point, Seattle has just felt like, I dunno... a hiatus from my real life in San Francisco. As if I've only been pretending to live here, almost like playing house. And I stopped and looked out at the water and the lights and it dawned on me... if I ever want to have a good life here I need to let San Francisco go. If I don't I'm going to spend the next few years wallowing in nostalgia and homesickness... miserable. Yeah, not how I want to live. I will never, never stop loving the bay or the people there, but I need to accept the possibility of loving Seattle and the people here just as much.
And I've realized another thing.
I didn't put much emphasis on me leaving. I just didn't want to make a big deal of it because I thought it would be easier not have a tearful, emotional goodbye. It would only serve to make a sad situation harder and I didn't want to put anyone through that. I wanted to be strong for my friends. But in doing what I thought was right, I'm afraid I failed, failed miserably at expressing how much they mean to me, how I'm a better person for knowing them, how I will miss them every day, how much I fucking love them and how lucky I feel that they love me too. I wasn't being strong for them, I was being selfish for me. I'm sorry, you guys, that was a dick move. Apologizing via LJ is also a dick move, so I'll be calling you tomorrow. (Yes, I mean you, Ash).
Seriously though, where can I get a decent burrito???
All my love,
Jules
I now have two jobs. One at a spa, probably the easiest job I've ever had. Ever. In my life. I read and play on the internet and maybe take 10 phones calls in the span of 8 eight hours. That's it, no joke. My other job is at a salon called VAIN (aka Bladerunners 2). It's pretty huge so I'm busy all the time, everyone there has been amazing so far and since a majority of the employees are around my age, I'm guessing I'll have a serious social life real soon.
Neighborhoods no longer too foreign, bus lines make a bit more sense, yet still searching for a decent burrito.
A strange thing happened walking home the other night. I looked up to see Queen Anne reflected in Lake Union, a sight I've seen almost every day for a month now, but it was different. For the first time, it struck me that I live here. Really live here. I realized up until this point, Seattle has just felt like, I dunno... a hiatus from my real life in San Francisco. As if I've only been pretending to live here, almost like playing house. And I stopped and looked out at the water and the lights and it dawned on me... if I ever want to have a good life here I need to let San Francisco go. If I don't I'm going to spend the next few years wallowing in nostalgia and homesickness... miserable. Yeah, not how I want to live. I will never, never stop loving the bay or the people there, but I need to accept the possibility of loving Seattle and the people here just as much.
And I've realized another thing.
I didn't put much emphasis on me leaving. I just didn't want to make a big deal of it because I thought it would be easier not have a tearful, emotional goodbye. It would only serve to make a sad situation harder and I didn't want to put anyone through that. I wanted to be strong for my friends. But in doing what I thought was right, I'm afraid I failed, failed miserably at expressing how much they mean to me, how I'm a better person for knowing them, how I will miss them every day, how much I fucking love them and how lucky I feel that they love me too. I wasn't being strong for them, I was being selfish for me. I'm sorry, you guys, that was a dick move. Apologizing via LJ is also a dick move, so I'll be calling you tomorrow. (Yes, I mean you, Ash).
Seriously though, where can I get a decent burrito???
All my love,
Jules