Christmas is in a week...wtf, bro.

As I lie on my comfy bed and listen to a live version of Years & Years' "Eyes Shut" (which is distracting me very much, by the way... I just want to jam out. Example:

)

it hits me that Christmas is a week away. It's sad that I'll be so far away from friends and family back home, but I'll be pet-sitting a wonderful dog and cat in an awesome house, and I want to treat the seclusion as a writing retreat. When I'm not doing my regular babysitting work, I will be writing. Poetry mostly, I think, unless an urge to work on a short story I started so, so long ago (like, two weeks ago) sets in. We shall see. The house is also equipped with an Apple TV and the owners have HBO Go, so anything could happen, really. Basically, I'm excited to have my own space for a week.

I've talked to several friends on the phone recently, and when you talk to people you know well and catch up on life, you do a lot of evaluating. Because inevitably you will be asked, "How are you? How's the new place? Are you doing well?" And you will give the best answers you can give, but, really, do you even know how you feel? I'd like to stick around long enough to see what it'll be like to communicate through sensation or feeling--I think in the future we'll all have little antennae that we'll poke each other with and a sort of sensational communication will take place and we'll just know what the other person means.

How am I? How's the new place? Am I doing well? In short, yes, I am well and the new place is good. Portland is a great city to live in, my living situation is working out, and I'm staying busy with both work and play. I'm getting confident on my bike and learning which roads are bike-friendly. I'm growing a tougher skin against the rain. I'm sampling a variety of brunch restaurants. Have I mentioned how insane brunch is in Portland? People here are nuts about brunch. It's crazy. I'm talking hour-long waits at some places. But, brunch is something I am 100% willing to wait for. Brunch is the Merlin of meals. King Arthur is lunch, like a solid soup & sandwich combo. Guinevere is after-work drinks. Lancelot is the app sampler at Applebee's. But Merlin--Merlin is the glorious magic that is brunch.

Guys. Do you ever feel stuck between your present and your future? I am putting in a conceded effort to participate, contribute, say "yes!" to invitations and opportunities. Even though Portland isn't exactly what I thought it would be, I am grasping it by the horns and taking it in. I suppose I could try harder to meet "native" Portlanders (read: Californians who've been here for 4+ years who deny that they play into the Cali-migrant stereotype) but I feel fairly comfortable with the group of peers I have at the moment. Anyway, in addition to Portland life, I'm wondering what's next. Where am I going? How can I do what I love and make money? How am I going to shape this next phase of my life? How can I be near the people I care about and still follow my dreams? 

Something I've realized since being here is that I have to do the things I want to do. I know that sounds stupid, but it's true. In college, I wanted to be a writer, but I hardly ever read (outside of class) or wrote. After graduating I started reading again. In Nice I wrote occasionally but didn't make it a priority. Now when I have a free moment, I'm like, "I should be writing right now." I want to make YouTube videos and be consistant in the content I create and upload (and now that I have a room of my own, I can do that again!). I want to build community around reading and writing, and I started the Writer's Forum MeetUp group, which is a good start. I don't know. I don't know if any of these things will lead to a job or career, but the compulsion to make something and share it is there, and I'm going to ride it and see where it takes me.

Currently I'm listening to Amanda Palmer read her book, The Art of Asking, on audiobook and holy 'effing poo, read it. Something I have a difficult time admitting, or proudly proclaiming, is that I'm an artist. I am. I have to make things. And I have to share these things with others. (Not everything. Lol. Some things no one will ever see.) Amanda talks about asking people to believe you, as an artist. 

PLEASE. BELIEVE ME. I'M REAL.

Rarely do people look you straight in the eye and see you. Part of an artist's job is to create situations or environments in which those eye-lock moments can happen. To connect the dots. 

This was a Poet — It is That
Distills amazing sense
From ordinary Meanings —
And Attar so immense

From the familiar species
That perished by the Door —
We wonder it was not Ourselves
Arrested it — before —

Emily Dickinson explains that a poet (or artist in general) creates this concentrated bit of meaning out of the "ordinary"--something imperceptible that the artists brings to life--and the audience is like, "Whoa, bessie! I've totes-bagoats felt that way before. Thanks for showing me my own feeling/experience." When that happens--when there is a tangible exchange between a creator's creation and its audience--that moment is what I'm after.

But money is a thing. Woo hoo!

If you want to see more of me, feel free to check out my latest YouTube videos! I recently did a video blog (vlog) where I take you around Portland for a day:

Here are some photos:

Cookies & Christmasy drinks party with friends

Portland being festive 

(despite the current war on Christmas)

Mother's Foucault's Bookshop

Snack one of my girls I babysit made <3

I hope everyone has a very merry Christmas and holiday time and that 2016 knocks everybody's socks off in the best way. Love, love, love. 

Job/Housing Search: What A Hoot ....that's sarcasm

I'm not sure if anyone has told you this before, but moving to a new city--finding a place to live, and then finding work to fund that living...takes time. Before I left for Portland, I knew getting myself out there and getting established would take effort. But I was fairly lax in my attitude. It'll work out. And it is working out, but maybe not as quickly as I thought it would.

I have a place to live! It's in a neighborhood called Sellwood, and it's with a family: journalist, professor, thirteen-year-old daughter, dog named Olga, and cat (name to be learned). Their house is full of books. Done deal, really.

On the work front, so far I have a part-time nannying position. I'm also tutoring two international students--one needs help with his composition class, and the other needs conversation practice. Powell's, the bookstore, isn't hiring at the moment, but I'm keeping an eye out (read: refreshing the application page several times a day).

Meanwhile, I've been exploring the city. Emma and Aaron are going through the same thing as me, so when we're not all worrying and stressing and scouring Craig's List, we hang out. Tyler and Laura have been most welcoming--they've showed us some of their best beer haunts, including the splendid Mississippi Pizza, which has pub quiz on Wednesdays. And Emily has just been the best, opening her home to us.

Outside Mississippi Pizza

Kate, Laura, Emma, Aaron at Green Dragon Pub

Sunset from Mt. Tabor Park

The next step is mostly to keep doing this step: find reliable work. Keep exploring this new city. Additionally, I'd like to make friends with some Portlanders. "Find my people," more or less. You know.

Wish me luck!

I Like Portland

This city is totally Angelica-friendly. There is excellent coffee everywhere. As a standard. It's amazing. The city welcomes bikers! Bike lanes abound and there's even a bike/pedestrian specific bridge. The whole food truck thing is ridiculous. I can't get over how much good food this city has. And the craft beer. Jesus, the craft beer! I don't know if I'm just with friends who have good taste, or if every bottle/tap in Portland is genuinely delicious. It certainly seems that way.

And the books. Thanks to Powell's, bookstore Mecca, this city really likes to read. Yesterday, I went to a literature festival for crying out loud. The art museum seems cool, too. And there are so many used bookstores scattered throughout the city. Bookstores I want to explore--I'm glad Powell's is here, but also that it can co-exist with so many unique, smaller shops. Record stores! Thrift stores!

People recycle here. The environment is respected and appreciated. People want to go skiing and hiking and general adventuring.

Everyone is young and smart and interested in stuff. At least, from what I can see. It's pretty cool.

These are my first impressions.

Buzzfeed's personality quiz wasn't wrong when it said I'd fit in here. Buzzfeed knew.

 First view of bookstore Mecca

 Polish food truck food

 The Willamette river

 Turkish coffee

Tart Berry toppings

So, I'm Moving To Portland...

On Tuesday, November 3, I'm spreading my wings (last minutes packing) and flying (taking a plane) to a city I've never been before, but according to Buzzfeed, I'm quite compatible with. I don't have a job, or a clue, really. Luckily, I have generous friends who have offered to keep a roof over my head until I find one of my own. I plan to drink amazing coffee. That's my primary goal. Then, go to the bookstore Mecca, Powell's.

Over the past months, when I've told people where I'm going, the most common reaction question is: "Why?" Which makes sense. I haven't mentioned Portland before. I don't have any particular connection to it. There's no professional reason to go out there. On a basic level, I'm going because I can. I'm a leaf in the wind! Not all those who wander are lost and all that.

There are dissenters. Some have told me about all the people with MA's who are making tacos. In a city full of educated young people, good jobs are hard to come by. Housing is pricey and the cost of living is just going to keep getting higher and higher. I'm sure all this is true, and yet I don't know how acutely the statistics will affect me. Will I become a statistic?

If it doesn't work out, I can always go someplace else.

For now, I'm busying myself with work, packing, and goodbyes. Cooperstown has been a lovely home, The Farmers' Museum has been a unique and fun place to work, and my hiatus in upstate New York before embarking on this next adventure has afforded me the time and space to reflect on what I want, where I want to go, and who I'd like to become. I don't have any definitive answers. But that's okay. I have an idea, and from ideas great things spring forth.

I'll keep you all posted.

The Farmers' Museum

It's October and I've Been Doing Stuff

Time is passing at a weird rate. I'm super aware of the weather--it is autumn. The leaves are changing. It is getting colder. This, in addition to the fact that I finally bought a ticket for my flight, has made me hyper aware of the time I have left before I leave for Portland.

I have several books I want to read before departure (so I can leave them behind...I really can't carry everything with me) and I don't spend enough time reading. I've started re-watching The Office. It is the single most comforting thing in my life right now, especially when so much is uncertain. I know that Michael Scott will always be inappropriate. I know that Jim will always gaze lovingly at Pam. And I know Creed will always be inexplicably weird in an old guy with one hell of a back story kind of way. Crawling into my collapsed futon bed with my laptop and, frankly, too many snacks, is, at the moment, my definition of solace. I'm gearing up for the changes ahead.

Other things I've been up to:

-Reapplying for my student loan payment plan
-"Saving" money to move
-Developing my interpreting style at work
-Thinking about writing poetry
-Freezing my hands while walking to work
-Getting tickets for Glastonbury Festival
-Falling in love
-Learning how to work the wood stove in the print shop
-Doing the dishes
-Cuddling hardcore with Kristofferson the cat
-Dancing at Sam & Kyle's wedding
-Chatting with a co-worker about whether or not women should be in the military
-Listening to "Dolphin's Cry" by Live
-Respecting Miles Davis

If you want to hang out before I leave the east coast, tell me so we can figure something out. However, I might say no, as The Office is perpetually calling my name. Just kidding. Sort of.

Life is good.

I work at The Farmer's Museum. I interpret rural life of upstate NY circa 1845. This is how I dress most days:

I like my job! I work in the print shop and I've made some cool things, including a copy of this Emily Dickinson poem:

I like living with Robby and Andréa. They take really good care of me. We have good chats all the time. Andréa and I have started watching Chopped on Netflix after work. I've also fallen in love with their cat, Kristofferson. It's not entirely mutual...yet.

On Monday nights I play D&D. We've come so far in the campaign! One more level, and my character will finally get to turn into a giant eagle.

Sometimes we go to dances, or play games, or get drinks at the fire bar. One time we rode on the Blues/"Booze" train.

Life is good.

Transitions

Purgatory is a good word for it--how one feels moving between one adventure and the next. The waiting, the wondering, the stress. A harsh light is shed on the temporality of situation, and relationships. Everything moves too fast and so, agonizingly slow. Decisions must be made. Adulthood must happen. Money is probably a good call.

It's good to be back. To see faces I haven't seen in seven months. To listen to friends' stories and life updates. To compare goals and ask big questions together. It's also been really great having access to my favorite Thai food.

But now is the time to make important choices I've been putting off since April. It's all fun and games to decide to move across the country, but then the reality of actually doing it hits you in the face. Is this what I really want? There are two sides to a coin: on one side, one wings it. On the other, one carefully researches and plans. Maybe these sides are on the same coin for a reason. I've got the winging down. The planning I'm working on.

I have no idea what I'm doing. It is terrifying. Luckily, I have amazing friends who feed me and let me pet their cat. Amazingly, I've found some work to occupy my time (and fund my craft beer tastings) until I get on the road. Hopefully, I can keep my shit together until that time, if not for longer.

There are some things that are keeping me sane. The first sip of coffee in the morning. The sunrise over Otsego county's breath-taking hills, knolls, and farmland. Loving Kristofferson, Andréa and Robby's cat. Music. And walking. Frothing the perfect foam for a latte. And writing, when I do it.

I'm going to leave you with a poem, because poetry is great and everybody should appreciate it on a more regular basis.

Poem: “The Orange,” by Wendy Cope, from Serious Concerns (Faber & Faber).

The Orange
At lunchtime I bought a huge orange—
The size of it made us all laugh.
I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—
They got quarters and I got a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.
This is peace and contentment. It's new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.
I did all the jobs on my list
And enjoyed them and had some time over.
I love you. I'm glad I exist.