If you just want the new news, skip to the *
Some of my most wonderful friends, my favorite people in the world, live in New York City. This and all the cultural institutions based here brought me to NYC a few years ago, and I lived in the city for a year and a half. Around the year mark, I had realized that NYC is not a place I enjoy living, aside from my friends being here. It’s too crowded, and people give up too much to live in a place that lost what most people come here to find back in the 80s or 90s. There are cheaper prices and a better quality of life pretty much anywhere else. One can rarely afford the neat things there are to do here, and when you can actually make it, it’s crowded to capacity.
So…in 2008 I quit a pretty great job, and made plans to move back to California, where I had at least been happy, if a bit lonely. I have great friends there too, although less of them, and life is pleasant when it is nothing else. And then…and then…the housing bubble burst. The economy burst. The people making money off our money didn’t bother to check if the money was real. Everyone was afraid, but people still had some money at first. No one knew exactly what might happen, and the government decided to give our tax dollars to the corporations that got us here.
Quitting that job and moving to California was a huge mistake – I know that, I am in the future too, educational as the future has been. I tried to make it in California for 10 months, and nothing worked out. I had two choices: live in Texas with family until I made enough money to do otherwise, or go to NYC and try to throw myself in front of enough money to stall that and give myself time to figure out what to do. I have a million reasons to avoid Texas, but I’ll leave that alone for now. I stayed in Texas for a month, and had managed a ticket to NYC for a week. In that week, I got enough temp work to justify staying for awhile.
I got a tiny room in a shitty apartment, and made enough money temping to squeeze by. It hasn’t always been pleasant, but being on my own and near friends has been a much better situation for figuring out what my next step in life should be than any alternative. Now I have figured that next step out. This time in NYC, as fun as it has been at times, was a delay. If I had figured out that staying here was the next step, that was a possibility, but I don’t think I’ll ever have anything of my own to call a life in NYC. The life I want to have includes things living in NYC requires one to sacrifice. Besides, I’m tired of all these fucking hipsters; even those who like the same things as me feel they ought to be ashamed of them, and I can’t stand that. I am very much about owning who you are. Whatever NYC has been in the past, it is now about fitting into other people’s expectations of you to a large degree. (I’m not talking about people here for school, but the job world and “adult” post-university culture here.)
So the gist is, I am once again moving. This time in NYC was never going to last long, as I say above, it was a convenient way to delay until I could figure out what I wanted to do. I figured it out.
* On September 5th, I’m going up to Maine to stay with some friends there and look for a job in Brunswick and Portland. I can have a life more resembling the one I want up there, and Portland and other places have a great art/music/creative scene. It’s only 6 hours or so from NYC by car, and living up there is so affordable that I will eventually have one. So that’s what’s going on. If you have any connections to help me get a job or place to stay while I look for one in the Portland area especially, let me know.
I need to write and get all these creative ideas out of my head and into the world, and NYC is never going to give me what I need to make that happen.