As we approach the Fall, (which, due to years of schooling, feels like the ‘beginning of a new year’ even though it’s technically not), I’m accessing and tinkering with my schedule. What I miss the most about Fort Collins was the incredibly normal, well-scheduled life I had going on there. I rode my bike a few blocks to my house, I was a well-established teacher, I fit pointe shoes and ordered dance clothes, I had a theater I worked with closely, I choreographed annually, and even though we were finanically strapped our expenses were low and we dined on happy hour food and went to the $3 movie theater.

In Seattle, nothing has been consistent enough for me to ‘find my groove’ so to speak. I’m also realizing how totally monopolizing teaching at the private school truly was. People I haven’t seen in a while at the improv theater are like, “Where have you been?” or worse, “Who are you?” And I find in the theater/dance world people fully expect you to be totally overwhelmed by your craft: “Oh, me? I’m in several shows, performing with mulitiple companies, and writing a play…” and I squeak out, “Oh, well I put my life on hold to teach kindergarten.” Which may sound honorable but isn’t much of an excuse…so I tend to follow up with, “It was really overwhelming and I was horribly sick most of the time.” This is usually a joykill in any situation, so I typically turn the question around and ask what so-and-so is up to.

The thing is, I feel like I’m running out of time in a small way. So much to do and see in the big city, and I’m having a hard time getting off the couch. The last time I lived in Seattle I did nothing but college, theater, socialize, etc. The constraints of a shitty job were still in my future as well as the “quarter life crisis.” Staying up until three and then rolling out of bed at nine was all part of the life style. I had millions of acquaintances, cast mates, and folks I spent years furiously flirting with.

HA HA, you’re thinking, now you’ve had to grow up…gone are the sex object days of yore. Now that you don’t have to waste time finding a soul mate in a bar (and not just any dive, but the now defunct AroSpace, home of the Miss Cherry Bomb contest–I used to break dance in a black mini skirt on the dance floor and earned the name “White Panty Girl”–what was I thinking? There’s no way I could have found Josh there). As I restructure my life to account for new jobs (yup, 1.5 years after moving to Seattle and I’m on job #3), marriage (yup, it takes up time too), and bills (dear God, so many bills), there’s a part of me that’s eternally rebellious. No way am I going home tonight after work, I’m going to go downtown and walk around and then take class. Laundry? Hell, no! Even if we are sleeping in a mound of what appears to be flea poo, I’m putting it off until the weekend! My rebellion is usually rewarded with a big cold from lack of sleep. (WHY or WHY does my body insist on 9+ hours of sleep a night? When the hell did that happen?)
I find myself working multiple highly demanding jobs at very little pay while competing with an insanely high cost of living. OK, so at least Josh is not currently in college working part-time at a hardware store. But you know what? We really NEED a rug…my Dad tracked in a rock off the street and it scratched our bamboo floors. Eff it, we’re spending the bucks on a rug…and when it came down to spending a couple hundred on a crappy rag or risking it all and taking the chance on the one-of-a-kind Iranian rug we found on overstock, well…what would you have done? Sure, I really wanted a $10,000 oriental rug, but we have to make do. Here’s hoping the pattern isn’t too terrible and really will ‘tie up the room’ nicely.

This post is just a bitch session…nothing more. That is all…for now.