I’ve been in Portland for a week and this is what’s on my mind. It’s effing difficult to move to a new city. I have moments of despair and moments of elation. I have freaked out a couple times simply from all the stress (sorry Brandon). That said, if you’re going to move to move to a new city without a job (but at least with a small network of friends!), and feel kind of bipolar in the process, Portland is perfect. It’s kind of like Hawaii in that it rains on and off most of the time, but in between rains, the sun makes everything warm and bright. The city itself is beautiful—mountains, tall trees and green everywhere. It smells like a forest pretty much all over the place. Even driving the interstates through downtown is breathtaking, cruising over ultra-high bridges that cross the Willamette River with panoramic views on all sides. And that’s without even getting into the many cute neighborhoods, the thriving art scene, the amazing local food/beer/wine that is available everywhere.
My nights have been pretty boring/lonely, because I don’t know too many people here yet. Cute Portland guys are around, but I’ll get to that in time. I’ve been plowing through episodes of Californication, which I will admit is on the cusp of soft-core porn, sure, but it’s a quality show. I know it’s good because it makes me think about some larger issues that surround my own life. The main character is a writer and in one episode, he talks about the evolution of language, and his reluctance to accept certain aspects of of what that entails. Using internet-speak, saying “lol” or “omg” or “brb,” is this actually the evolution of language, or is it a temporary cultural modification that will fade out as quickly as it came? This is something to think about as a writer, or as any person, really. Succumb to the influx of contemporary speech patterns, or stick with what I’ve been using my whole life? Whatever, I don’t really have to Decide. Yet, it is important to be aware of these shifts, to consider them and their uses within writing, what they add or take away from language on the page and how it will affect readers.
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| shelves and cinderblocks are the best. |
Luna is happy that I’ve unpacked my life here. She started to relax once I sorted through the boxes, fashioned a homemade bookshelf, and hung up all my clothes in the closet. If only it was that simple for me. I need a job, friends, a life. I know it will come in time, and that struggling builds character. Of course those things are true. But in the process of the struggling, sometimes I just want to curl in a ball and watch twelve episodes of Californication in a row, with a bottle or two of wine, and wallow in a drunken pile of myself with Luna on my bed. Good thing that instead of doing that all day, I swallow it, take Luna to these abundant, gorgeous parks, nail an interview for a server position at a fancy restaurant (called back to meet with the chef tomorrow, just ten minutes after the interview was over!), and make use of the amenities at my West Hills apartment complex—gym, sauna, hot tub. It’s a wonder I’m able to do it sometimes, because it can be so difficult, and my motivation dwindles when I’m having a particularly bad moment/day. I guess I owe it to everyone and everything in my life that has molded me into a person who is too self-aware to think those lows won’t pass, who knows how to make them pass more quickly or easily (thank you to my most wonderful dog, and hiking, and bouts of evening drinking, and the few friends I do have here, and reading a waterproof book in the hot tub, and endorphins for kicking in after a gym session, and my family for listening to me complain, and my long-distance best friend who usually knows better than to take anything I say seriously when I’m in one of my worst moods).
Alas, the wonders and woes of relocating. I’ll get back to you when I have a job.
