Thursday, November 12, 2015

Housing Shit

Sometimes I write shit for my grants, and I look at it, and I'm like, "That didn't suck too bad" so I thought I'd share some of the rationale I've posited for a grant here....mind you, most grants have character restrictions, so some of this could have delved deeper, but brevity, data, and theory of change are three key points to remember in grantwriting. You know, this was in response to the typical request for <not a lot of $ that makes you "Describe the history of your agency, your program, your program's theory of change, extensive demographic data about your population, how you came to serve the target population, how you came to do what you do, and name all positions to be covered with these funds.....BTW, 5,000 character limit."

Also, brevity is not my strong suit. How did I get into this field? 
In the end, I ended up deleted almost half of what's below in the final submission because I didn't realize the restriction was so fierce. Here's close to the original. Nothing really discusses our agency's provisions, just the climate/issues that we're requesting $ for.


 

I think it's also apparent that I loved book reports, right?

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Seattle is currently experiencing a population boom of a magnitude not seen since, well, the Gold Rush. (http://www.seattletimes.com/seattle-news/data/seattles-population-boom-approaching-gold-rush-numbers/) “Well, since 2010 — the year Amazon consolidated operations in South Lake Union and began its hiring spree — Seattle has gained 14,511 people per year, on average, according to census data.” This increase in population has driven up rent and the price of home sales, as well as made available housing scarcer.

To understand the challenges facing our program participants, one must first understand that homelessness no longer affects Seattle’s chronically homeless—but also the underemployed and those individuals and families living paycheck-to-paycheck. People experiencing homelessness have oftentimes lost their housing after a medical emergency or crisis left them unable to afford rent AND medical bills. The scarcity of affordable housing in Seattle and King County also disproportionately affects those people living on low incomes.

To qualify for housing provided by _______, our tenants must earn 30% or less area median income (AMI), which, for a family of 4 in Seattle is $26,900. This translates to a family of 4 living on 30% AMI being able to afford a 2-bedroom house for $585/month. Unfortunately, the actual average cost of an affordable 2-bedroom in Seattle is between $640‑$1,262/month, with the real cost being closer to $2,000/month. (http://clerk.seattle.gov/public/meetingrecords/2014/plus20140213_1a.pdf)

The escalation of prices is not the only thing adding to homelessness in Seattle. The economic downturn resulted in layoffs and shuttered businesses throughout the country, as well as in record numbers of foreclosures and evictions. Many of our tenants have a history of foreclosures or evictions, poor credit, high debt, and other barriers that landlords refuse to allow. While it is illegal for landlords to deny tenant applications based on source of income (meaning landlords cannot refuse Section 8 vouchers), the growing number of Amazon, Google, and Facebook employees, for example, has created a back-door for discrimination: landlords are allowed to state they have preferred employers for their tenants. Being that few, if any, persons living on low income work for these tech giants, the employees of these growing tech companies swoop up available higher-end and middle –rate market rate housing, and push middle income earners (with 60-80% AMI) into “workforce housing.” This in turn creates more competition for the remaining affordable (read: "workforce" and low-incomehousing.

Competition for affordable housing is fierce. Our housing advocates have seen 80-90 potential tenants lined up for affordable unit open houses. The landlord requires a holding fee and/or first and last month’s rent plus security to remove the unit from the market. This holding fee is nonrefundable for any reason. Meaning, if the potential tenant changes their mind for any reason, they lose that holding fee. Also adding to the competition, the open houses are spread throughout the week and at all times of day and require people to line up in advance of the showing. This operation is not necessarily conducive to the inflexibility of a working class schedule, where you are often given a schedule and must use unpaid time off to request days off.

The City has created “Incentive Zoning for Affordable Housing,” incentivizing construction and management companies to build a percentage of new builds as affordable units— or opt out and pay into a fund to support affordable housing. While this fund may support affordable rents in the future, it also delays the real-time availability of affordable housing for people living on low incomes. As evidenced by the 14% jump in the One Night Count for homelessness, it is obvious that Seattle can not keep up and needs additional solutions. (SIDE NOTE: The site shows a 21% jump, but that is including two new areas; in the previous territories only, the jump was 14%.) As our agency continues to serve this growing population, we are challenged with replacing outdated, archaic systems that fail to provide reliability for our staff and residents. When our agency ventured into residential services in the 1990s, we promised that we would provide safety, security, and stability for those families living on low incomes and experiencing homelessness and multiple barriers to success. Your support will continue our promise and delivery on that vision.

Housing models for families living on low incomes offer varying levels of supportive services. Our Residential Services programs are located throughout Seattle, and provide support to families to make homelessness “rare, brief, and one-time”—the new language supported by “All Home,” the community-wide partnership to address growing homelessness in King County. 

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Then I went on to connect the fact that everything in this world feels hopeless, especially when it comes to affecting poverty, but that IF they gave us $, things would be slightly less shitty for residents who are trying to exit poverty because we would use technology to exit us from communicating in the Dark Ages of smoke signals and Morse code.

Some days, everything feels all uphill. And typey typing on a computer may not be the most effective way to create an impact in the world. And then I question if I ant to actually have an impact at all because I REALLY want to move to the country and learn to milk goats and make my own damn cheese and live in a tiny house with a HUGE kitchen and BIG garden with only electricity and internal plumbing and gas so I can cook in my HUGE kitchen but not be bothered by the outside world. 

I think I need to work on my FB addiction first tho...Don't think the irony of me writing about people with real problems is lost on me.

FLORY OUT.

Monday, August 31, 2015

Apples and Bananas

I have approximately 239 draft blog posts, and I realized that my life is a shit show and blogging used to be a thing I did to make me happy and now I wasn't doing it and maybe that is why I have the sads.

This is likely in addition to a million of other fucked up reasons why I am struggling to live life and smile. Fuck that. Not even smile. Like, not look dead inside because it is how I feel. Just so MEH. Like I'm moving through the movements of being an informed, impassioned leader, but honestly IDGAF.

About anything.
Ever.




I just want to cook and feed people, and read books, and have enough money for alcohol. WHY DON'T I EVER HAVE MONEY FOR FUCKING BEER.

I digress.

In light of the 239 drafts that I have, I've committed to updating this one. Just posting at least ONE of these fuckers. So here's something I LITERALLY started in April when I moved here....



Chicago and Seattle are, like, diff'errnt. 

Let's review.


Population
Chicago: roughly 9 million in the metro area
Seattle: roughly 3 million in the metro area. 2.8% growth in 2013 increased last year (not sure how much since 2014, but rent is climbing and everyone has to move out and the homeless population one-night count increased 21% from 2014 to 2015. SO. FUCK.

Landscape
Chicago: flat and sprawling. lots of baby parks with a few ginormous ones. lots of cement. more marketed products, billboards, signage created by corporations (corporate branding).
Seattle: hilly, lots of lakes, trees everywhere. lots of parks and beaches. more art-created marketing for ads and signs (like an artist actually made them) and not as many billboards

Chicago: Lake Michigan 

(I looked for a gif of Chicago stuff, but they were all flashy and gave me seizures)


Seattle: Puget Sound




Chicago: surrounded by farm fields (aka, 90% of the state that isn't Chicago or Springfield)
Seattle: surrounded by other suburbs that spread for EVER and then it's mountains and waterfalls and hills and mountains and islands and the ocean.

Racial Demographic
Chicago:
Chicago's racial makeup in 2010. (Each dot represents 25 people - red dots are Whites, blue dots are Blacks, green is Asian, orange is Hispanic, gray is other).

Seattle:

I don't know if you can see this shit, but let me break it down. White north, black south, poor white and brown to the west. Sound familiar? You can replace "white" with "has money" and do the same layout. Also, there's a rich fringe on the shoreline because RICH PEOPLE LOVE BOATS.

Also, if you're anywhere around AMI (AMI=area median income), you're fucking lucky because the only people I know who make AMI are at least 15 years into his/her career. (For one person in Seattle, this is $57,625.)

And living on your own! Fahggedaboutit. I can't afford to live my standard of life on my income, and I'm around 90% AMI!
Here's the limits. 


I pay $1200/month for a centrally located studio. Granted, with lots of amenities (no A/C but washer, dryer, dishwasher, gym, elevator, etc), but forget about enjoying those beers I want bc all my money goes to rent, student loans, and food. If only pasta wasn't so cheap, I might be skinny. (Note to self: buy more salad!)

Sports
Chicago: Da Sox (I refuse to mention that "other" team), Da (Black)Hawks, Da Bears, Da Fire, Da Bulls 
Seattle: The Mariners, The Thunderbirds (not NHL), The (Sea)Hawks, The Sounders, and there's no basketball because OMG EVERYONE IS STILL WHINING ABOUT THE SONICS LEAVING DON'T EVEN BRING IT UP.





Crime
It should be noted that Seattle covers less land mass than Chicago, and that neighboring towns that might be captured in Chicago's count (based on distance from city center) would increase the # of murders in Seattle. Also, this is just murder. I didn't capture any information about robbery or other assaults, but I have a feeling the #s are pretty on par here. I love it when only one person at a dinner party of 9 has ever been mugged.

Weather
Chicago: There are seasons. And LOTS of snow. People talk about the seasons occurring all in the same day. Which is funny because....
Seattle: It goes through seasons every few hours. And when it snows >1", the city shuts down because cars can't be on the slippery roads/hills.

Walking culture
Chicago: walks a lot, bundles up. understands economy of motion. walks behind cars to jay walk. tourists walk slow, and that's usually in the loop.
Seattle: walks a lot EVERYWHERE despite the mountains they call "hills" as normal streets here, and everyone is slow as fuck. they have no idea how to use the flow of traffic to cross BEHIND cars. jay walkers are scorned, and all traffic will stop for them. because everyone is fakely polite here.




Biking
Chicago: bike lanes, bikers scream at cars, cars run over bikers. only half the people where helmets.
Seattle: every biker takes up the whole lane even if there are bike lanes, everyone wears bright ass yellow everything. everyone wears 15 helmets.

Traffic
Chicago: takes 45 mins to go 3 miles because everyone's on the road and pushing their way past the major car wreck and you can't squeeze into merge.
Seattle: takes 45 mins to go 3 miles because everyone's gawking at the major car wreck and letting other cars in. BECAUSE FAKE NICE.

Parking
Chicago: parking is hard to find in certain areas and a few blocks is nothing. Love taps are how you show you are an amazing parallel parker.
Seattle: parking is really hard to find BECAUSE EVERYONE PARKS FOUR FEET APART FROM THE CAR IN FRONT OF AND BEHIND THEM. Love taps will get someone coming out of their house and yelling at you to leave a note that you "hit" the car behind you. LOVE TAPS ARE HOW CARS SHOW THEIR AFFECTION FOR EACH OTHER.




(It goes without saying, but I'm saying it anyway, I AM A PARALLEL PARKING QUEEN.)

Crosswalks
Chicago: Ewwww. Gross. No one bothers to hit the button, and if they do, it's with an elbow. Someone probably pissed on it.
Seattle: MUST HIT BUTTON THRICE!!!! (Everyone has a preferred # of taps here.) They touch it with their hands in the most aggressive-aggressive manner. It is the only time I see people be angry here.

Restaurants
Chicago: Servers try to be nice to get your money. 
Seattle: Servers don't really care if you're there or not. Every single place I've ever been has vegan, gluten-free options. Aka, water.




Bathroom facilities in public places
Chicago: There are some in government buildings, parks, businesses, etc.
Seattle: Good luck finding one. Better look for a McDonald's and be able to buy something so you can get the code for the door. There was a code for the one at Target. I went in, and a woman was coaching another woman on how they were going to run this dude for his money. They were also showering in the sink.

I don't say this to belittle them, it's just an example of stuff I didn't ever see in Chicago. Maybe I didn't look hard enough? Maybe I wasn't downtown enough?

Homeless population
Chicago: Lots of homeless with mental health and substance abuse (alcohol) issues. Lots of homeless in Chicago have access to emergency shelters, shack up under bridges, or under overpasses and in doorways and alcoves.
Seattle: Lots of homeless with severe mental health and substance abuse (meth) issues. Due to the insane number of big bridges here, lots of them seem to be heavily fortressed. There are tent cities since there aren't enough brick and mortar shelters and more and more people are being pushed out of their houses. Basically what I'm trying to say is that the homeless population here is far more visible and more visibly in need. In Chicago, the range was wider. Here it's like there's so much goddamn money, NO middle class, and then homeless people.

(See also, why I work at an agency that offers services to people living on low incomes, including housing, food and hunger relief, financial stabilization services and programs, transportation, and also we do advocacy....I could go on and on about my job, but just save me some time and read this website...mmmmmmkay?.)

Cost of living
Chicago: Affordability is a thing! I had a MASSIVE apartment in Rogers Park for $900/month. With Central Air! And a dishwasher!
Seattle: Okay, maybe Rogers Park is the equivalent of Olympic Hills and Evanston is Shoreline. They both are near malls, I think. And both have divided racial populations. Yeah. And where I live is not really comparable to Chicago. 
A few blocks away is the hipster Division Street-Bucktown equivalent, and my current neighborhood is sort of like Uptown/Ravenswood. Like, not all that great, but people here call it "hood" which makes me laugh sooooooooo uncontrollably. 





Dating
Chicago: Fuck that city and all the people I ever dated in it. 
Seattle: Fuck this city and all the people in it because I never ever ever want to date again. 

I tried dating a guy for a few months. That was laughable. I've never wanted to be in a relationship less. What was I thinking? Within 12 days he wanted to lock this down and after 4 months of me not committing, I was like, fuck this. I'm out. Of everything.

I checked out Tinder, but it just feels weird. 

AND OMIGOD THE POLY PEOPLE ARE ERRRRRYWHERE.





I live above a grocery store, and a vet, and a nail salon. I'm about 2 blocks from a pot shop, within 1 block of two bars, 2 blocks from a GREAT bar, and 2 blocks from a majorly great beer place with about 70 taps. 

I have a little porch that is filled with green things. My apartment is warm and inviting and perfectly my style. Though I'm dying for these animal planters.  

But that barely matters because I'm never there. Says the girl at the office at 8PM. On a Monday. Because I took the weekend "off." 

More later. Enjoy that shit about Seattle. 

PEACEHOMEFRIES.



Friday, May 29, 2015

Review of World Premiere of "Paper Tigers" Documentary at Seattle International Film Festival

Last night I went to the Seattle International Film Festival's world premiere of the documentary, “Paper Tigers,” about the implementation of trauma-informed care, restorative practices, and a health center at an alternative school in eastern Washington state in a town called Walla Walla. The movie profiles 4-5 teens and 1 couple in their high school years as this school implements the techniques. There were a few hundred people (predominantly middle-aged white women) in the theater.

The film highlighted multiple dimensions of “at-risk youth” personalities (from silly to goofy and shy to violent and combatant or addictive), explained the physiological effect that trauma has on cognitive behavior and development of youth uncovered by the CDC's ACE Study , showed the negative impact that adverse childhood experiences (ACES) have on life expectancy and health, and interviewed youth and teachers to show various sides of the school’s progress (missteps, challenges, personal struggles, etc).  

The director, many of the teachers, and one student were present and took questions after the movie. All in all, the movie and the Q&A were great. I applaud this community for taking on the overwhelming task of implementing this much needed multidimensional system. I don't do direct service, and I am NOT jealous of those who do. I sing their praises, for I would never have the patience to do what they do. The movie shines a light on the complexity that poverty, substance abuse and alcoholism, disabilities, familial relationships, homelessness, romantic partnerships, health concerns, and mental illness can have on young people’s attendance and scholastic achievement.

Being that the documentary took place in a small town in eastern Washington, it was good to see a different “face” to at-risk youth than I am used to in Chicago. Most of the teens presented as white or latino, biracial, and possibly Native American. Few, if any, presented as black. I hope this highlights to people that these complex issues are not “a black thing” or a “city thing,” but that there are still young people throughout rural and small-town America who are coping with these problems.

There were two things I thought were a bit problematic in the film, and two things from the Q&A:
  • One teacher (Mr. Eric Gordon?) said, “All you need is unconditional love”…which as you know, might imply that communities that don’t implement these practices don’t love their children. Which we all know is not true. The reality is that some people are equipped with better knowledge and skills, and others are not. Some people understand the complicated world that is trauma stewardship, and some have not yet had the opportunity to learn about this and other best practices.
    I understand that the intention of this teacher was not to imply that other teachers and these children’s parents don’t love their children, but if we continue to associate love with the manner in which we need to implement these programs, adults run the risk of alienating the very allies we are trying to inform and educate. Cultural sensitivities among families are difficult to navigate, and working with staff, administrators, and students is no different. Yes, love is a part of it, but I think what love develops is about respect, forgiveness, understanding, patience. All the things that lead to love, but there’s a danger in calling one type of affection the only way that affection can be validated.
     
  • Two, that same teacher had the youth self-quantify their ACES without consideration for whether or not the young people handled the traumatic events well. (For example, we wouldn’t expect a teen to react the same way if they lost a brother to gun violence as if he/she lost a grandparent to old age. In particular, we also must ensure that through intakes and sharing of information, that we are sensitive to pushing labels on youth who are only just learning self-identification and self-expression. We must ensure we do no additional harm to the youth as they self-identify with higher risks. The ACE intake/questionnaire should be a TOOL that professionals use to indicate potential areas for further discussion. It should be used as a means to circle back and check in, but not as a “this score = X.”
    Because that is what evaluations and tools are---just tools to provide some baseline and some sense of quantification to a world that largely relies on context. If we remove the context from the interaction, we risk harming those we wish to help.


Lastly, the Q&A identified two huge missed opportunity that the documentary should have emphasized:

  • One, the documentary showed four main teachers and one administrator as the leaders of this initiative. And it’s true that there must be a leader of the initiative, but something a staff member stated in the Q&A was crucial to understanding the success of the school’s climate change: EVERY PERSON WHO WORKS AT THE SCHOOL MUST BE ACTIVELY TRAINED AND ENGAGED IN THE TECHNIQUES TO SEE PROGRESS. Two teachers will not be able to cause a shift in the student body. Staff must present a unified voice, presence, and attitude, else the efforts will have minimal impact. Much like recycling one bottle of water will not create a large impact in our natural environment, we must teach towns, companies, and schools the importance of system-wide recycling and pollution reduction programs. We cannot expect to see changes in our ozone when only 1-2 residents implement what is intended as a systems change. This, of course, feeds into my last point…

  • Which may be the most crucial point that was overlooked: WITHOUT SUPPORT FROM THE ADMINISTRATION, THIS WILL FAIL. Many administrators pay lip service to providers about “creating a culture of calm” and wanting change, but they don’t want to take time out from preparing students for standardized tests to implement social emotional learning. This is not just an administrator issue….this is an American issue. Without allowing teachers the time to build social emotional skillbuilding into their classrooms, our young people will fail. We cannot teach to the test. We cannot expect youth who have been only “taught to the test” to come out of school prepared for leadership positions, to work with team mates on a project, or to have critical thinking and practical application skills. Without education reform, teachers will be seen as “continuing to fail our students” when America continues to fail our teachers.



During the Q&A portion, a (presumed) administrator asked how one implements the program, and the teachers said there was no road map. Which isn’t true---there’s local and international programs that offer trauma-informed care and restorative justice training. I provided the director with the name and contact information for Alternatives’ Restorative Justice program. I requested that he build a resource for people asking for follow-up information to the film, but I’m not sure he was hearing me. Still high on everyone’s excitement about the film.


EDIT: I just came across this article that also explains the correlation of ACEs in pop-culture relevant terms and thought I'd link to it. Not sure the #s are all correlated, but this is an important quote that I like to post: 
“When people are having problems,” Dr Robert Anda, another author of the ACE study, tells me, “it’s time to stop asking what’s wrong with them, and start asking what happened to them.”

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Two Months In

Well, it's been nearly two months since I moved to Seattle officially. I didn't expect it to take me this long to get around to writing a post about it. So, here's a few things that I do now and have felt/experienced:

(1) I compost things now, and have 3 different garbage/recycling cans. I bring my glass recycling into the office recycling cans because my building doesn't take glass. YES. I DO THAT NOW.

(2) I am attempting to grow things on my porch. Pray that my cats stop eating everything and puking it up all over so the plants won't die. 

(3) I am drinking green smoothies frequently. Like at least a few times per week. I'm trying macha ones now simply because I need caffeine. Not a huge fan of the hemp protein, so we'll see what else doesn't taste like garden weeds.



Icky.



(4) I miss the simplicity of only having two program areas and +/-8 programs (there's 30+ programs here). And five directors. I have 10 or so that I actively work with.

(5) I have tried biking to/from work. I have yet to make it all the way home with my bike not being in someone's car. God these hills are ROUGH.

(6) I spend most days with my windows thrown open in my apartment. People call it cold when it's <65 degrees. I giggle.

(7) Too many socks and sandals. 


Ta-da! I want my feet to be warm AND free!


(7a) I am dating a man who wears exclusively sandals. I never thought this day would come. This week, I convinced him into Keens. I'm slowly progressing his feet into getting more used to being in shoes. This is a battle I will go to bat for.

(7b) I feel more free to dress strangely. And not care about it. One day, dresses. Next day, jeans and tees. Next day, funky. It's nice to feel free to express my lack of fashion understanding and get a little weird.

(8) I've had to restrain my face while people talk to me about being reiki practitioners. Or discuss crystals. Or anything else that makes me feel as queasy as if someone just asked me, "Have you heard about our good lord and savior Jesus Christ?"

(9) Passive-aggressive doesn't even BEGIN to explain how people function out here. I mean, It was implied I was "direct" because I pop into a person's office rather than email her. She sits two doors down from me. TWO DOORS.

(10) I eat mostly veggie when Chris is around, since he's veggie and prefers organic. I eat HELLA meat when he's not around. 

(11) I live in a 424-square-foot studio that costs $1100/month. They are raising this to $1295/month in two months. I really miss not being able to hear EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME. From the cats constantly fighting to people peeing in the other room. Seriously. All the noises.


(Note: I wish my place was that nice.)


(12) I have a porch. I would love to read on it, but have only done so once. Why? Jobby job. Long hours. Lack of want to feed my brain more than I'm already doing already. I mean, how much more room is in there anyway?

(13) I'm a huge fan of Archer and Netflix. I wish I could binge watch stuff, but the layout of my place doesn't allow for more than a few episodes on my Kindle every night.

(14) I have to dress up WAY more frequently and schmooze than I did at my old job . I am learning to schmooze. I need to do the "fake it til you make it" deep breathing shit more while in SCHMOOZE mode, but whatev. I've already had one or two site visits, a few minor events, and a major event to practice. I'm learning.

(15) I still have a serious love affair with peanut butter. And peanut butter noodles. Don't hate! Celebrate! (That you don't have to eat them bc I'm miles away.)

(16) I am growing my love affair with coffee. There's no centralized coffee at my office. Everyone brings in coffee for their own departments and brews it that way. Which means everyone in RD walks one block to the Starbucks or Fuel rather than talking with their peers that they don't get along with about who's turn it is to brew coffee and how so-and-so hasn't brought coffee in X weeks. Or at least that's my assumption. Everyone has cliques and they pair up to go get coffee in said cliques. I don't have a table to sit at yet, so I get mine on my own.

5% of people in Seattle when they mention coffee.
The other 55% remaining are mocking him for drinking lattes and not pour-overs.
The remaining 40% can't afford coffee AND rent, so sacrifices had to be made.


(17) I work for a huge agency that is going through growing pains and lacks many of the best practices I'm used to. Or maybe I just don't know about them. This place is so big, it's taking a while to get around to learning everything I expected to know and do by now.

(18) I have been "warned" I may rub people the wrong way. I blankly stared at the person who said this (BTW, multiple people have said this to me). He then nervously said, "But it looks like that doesn't really bother you." I said, "Nope. It doesn't really. I mean, I'm not out to make enemies, but I have a lot of work to do." 

Some things change. Some never will. 


Next time I write it'll be more about Chicago vs. PNW/Seattle. For now, I want to thank every single person out there who has been supportive of me and my move. I am learning to love the things that make this place exactly what I wanted. I have beautiful skies every night. I wake up feeling excited about the work I'm doing. I'm excited to have the freedom that I have. I am working back toward my love of exercise (okay, inching....). I'm learning SO. FUCKING. MUCH. I'm growing. I'm pushing. I'm navigating the ick and discomfort of a new place. 

And I'm so grateful to have the support of my friends and family.

Thank you for all your kind words. They've helped me more than words can express. 

XOXO,
Kerry

Saturday, April 11, 2015

All Mine

I couldn't get to sleep last night, afraid I said and did the wrong things at the luncheon. Once I finally did fall asleep, I slept fantastically and woke to a beautiful morning in Seattle, the sun streaming into my windows. I've already planned a wonderful Saturday by myself.

A lazy day in my pajamas, comfy hoodie and some tea
Making myself a healthy salad for lunch
Put together IKEA furniture
move my stuff into storage so I create more space
Hang my shelves and my art
Create a nook on my balcony so I can read or enjoy some gardening
Read the work docs I need to read
Update my budgets
Close out any final ventra Chicago accounts
Drink lots of tea
Write my column about getting a job
Maybe take a long bath and read a book

Tomorrow, go hiking with friends. Restorative, active, in nature. So eager to enjoy the bounty of the Pacific northwest. (YEAH, I DID JUST USE BOUNTY IN A SENTENCE.)

A few days ago, I went on a quaint, romantic picnic at sunset. It was beautiful, and it allowed me to take in my surroundings. To re-write narratives of spaces I'd been before on previous trips, where I longed for someone to share space with me like I was now with someone else. Chris is simple and kind. He doesn't have complications in his life. We are very different people and have very different beliefs about the world. But he is a nice companion for me right now. He may not be forever, but it's nice to have someone to spend time with. To distract a broken heart. To uncomplicate things since I seek no complications, definitions, or future with anyone right now. To focus on the present and be in the moment-- with or without someone.

Because I still plan to move forward with MY plans. To seek to fulfill MY goals, with or without someone's support. That is how I will live now. For me.

And it feels refreshing, like a cool concrete balcony under toes in the morning. In a space that I've made. That, for the first moment in a long time, doesn't ache with a loneliness of "alone" but rings full with "all mine."

Monday, April 6, 2015

Week 2

It's been a while since I posted and lots of shit has changed. Basically, my whole life. 
Since I don't have Wifi yet, I'm writing this on my phone. So here's a summary:

I got offered a job at a great place, so I packed up and moved across the country. That whole five-day trip by myself (plus 3 cats) was mentally and physically exhausting. How anyone ever did it before iPhones, the Internet, and cell phones to talk to long-distance friends in New York in Chicago, I'll never know. 

Here is one of those magnificent pics: 



I never ever ever want to do it again.

Yet as of right now on week two, all I want to do is fly home with my kitties and be surrounded by my loved ones.

I started my job last week. I work for a great agency with amazing values and programs and people, who are all really nice and smart. I'm excited about a lot that I think I can bring to the table and a lot of exciting opportunities I have to grow.

The day I moved into my new place, I thought one of the movers was cute. So I was bold and asked him if he wanted my number. He did. We've gone out three times now. He survived the trip to IKEA, me getting hangry, and he actually likes my cats. There's a million red flags, but it's okay for now. I'm trying not to play a comparison game, especially since my ex and I haven't spoken or written in weeks. 

Promptly after moving (thank god to Nurse Nick), I started unpacking. And then I got sick. So, I've been sick 8/11 days. I'm tired. I'm 90% unpacked. I still don't feel settled. My stomach is still touchy and unnerved. (Unnerved? Whatever. It's topsy turvy.)

I got my first real, true pangs of homesickness today. I want to know where things are in my home, in the city I live in, feel familiarity. I wish I never took boredom for granted. Because boredom is often the same thing as stability. And I would kill for a little stability right now.

I may have also forgot to take my meds today so I'm a little moody. And yesterday was Easter and I miss my family. And my friends. And I'm just sad thinking about where I was a year ago and where I am now. 

I post the good pics. I post the happy thoughts. I don't post the frustration. The loneliness. The far-away-ness-of-everything-feeling. The want for ANYTHING that feels like home, comfort, love, knowing, confidence, and "me."

I wanted to re-define myself. To explore. To read and walk and be alone. Yet the absolute FIRST guy I met, I'm now embarking down a potentially disasterous future. So I may put on the brakes. Hit pause. We'll see. He is kind and strong and younger and messy. He is here and right now and that is fine. Bc that is as far as I can see at the moment. 

It's been a few weeks since leaving Chicago. As "up" as I was then, I am feeling that down and lonesome now. It's just a moment. A phase. It will pass. It always does. 

Besides, I have my girls, a roof over my head, clothes on my back, food in my stomach, and I woke up this morning. I can't complain about much, really. It's just funny how crushing the feeling of EVERY possibility can feel. 

So I will start with what I know and go from there. It's always worked before. It'll work again. 


Thursday, March 12, 2015

EVERYTHINGISMOVINGSOFAST

Today I got a job.
And I manage two people and a $7.3 million proposal portfolio.
LIKE WOAH.
I'm ready.
Tomorrow I finish packing.
Saturday I get rid of 90% of my furniture and I pack my U-boxes and have drinks with friends.
Sunday I work and see my sister and babysit and my friend Steph crashes on the floor with me.
Monday I work an insane number of hours.
Tuesday I work and turn in three projects totalling $250K in funding. BETTER NOT FUCK IT UP.
Wednesday I work and babysit.
Thursday I work and train my colleagues ON ALL THE THINGS as much as I can.
Friday I work my last day and have after-work drinks and Tyler arrives.
Saturday morning I see my friend for breakfast.
Saturday afternoon I see my brother, his family, and mother for lunch.
Saturday night I have a party at a bar.
Sunday I chill/recover and pack up...say goodbye to Tyler.
Monday I get my car checked out, drop off cable stuff, hang with Takeda peeps, load up the cats in the car, and drive to Iowa City to see my sister and nephew.
Tuesday I drive to Rapid City, South Dakota.
Wednesday I drive to Yellowstone.
Thursday I drive to Spokane, Washington.
Friday I drive to Seattle, Washington.
Friday I drive to my new home.
My new city.
Saturday I welcome Nick and unpack the Uboxes.
Sunday I unpack and get my wits about me.
Monday I start my new job.
My new life.
My new everything.

WHYISEVERYTHINGMOVINGSOFAST.









Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Adventure Time!

Things are looking up….I had a third interview with a FANTASTIC agency that I’d love to work for. I’d be really excited for the challenges and new opportunities it would offer me. But I’m not counting my chickens yet!

I signed a lease on a great apartment, and I’m 80% packed up. I scheduled my movers for Saturday and again for the 28th when I move into my place.

I’ve been plotting my stops across the US. I realized that I’ll have driven across the US this past year: Thanksgiving from Chicago to New York City and now from Chicago to Seattle. :)

I’m pretty hyped about the weather, moving, and the opportunity to really apply myself and my skills. I know that I have rough patches, but I always come out on top. I heard a cheesy quote last night….”It’s not what knocks you down that defines you. It’s how you stand up.”


I’ve been knocked down in my life quite a bit—both from my own doing and from interactions with others—but I’m grateful of where I am. I feel like I’m on the precipice of something amazing, and I can’t wait to go on this adventure!


Here is a cat eating a rainbow snowcone just BECAUSE.

Saturday, March 7, 2015

some real sad shit

Sorry this shit been NOT funny for a minute , but my life hasn't been particularly comic of late . I tend to dump all my anxiety about moving and my  emotions about my ex in this blogger sphere. Very few people read it, bit it's so cathartic. Like a diary to anonymous readers.


 I've begun to unlearn how I threw my leg over yours every night for a few minutes before we fell asleep together and then rolled over to our respective corners . I was found guilty there wasn't more tether there .
 I fathered you to our imaginary  daughter before the icebox had been cleaned.
I wonder if you miss my pets more than you list me . Actually don't wonder that much I know the answer.
 I have 'Re-learned that artful technique for a 4-pillow surround system . the two maybe three glasses of wine and half a sleeping pill mantra. The I "work this all off when I get to spring" fitness plan.
 I bought my first bottle of wine under five dollars recently . I tell myself I am not my mother with her Franzia, my grandmothers port, split tongues by ways of deception
--no call it by its name: adultery and feigning the fool.
 My Family made everything so polarized, black-and-white, over and under, wrong and right, my way or the highway. Clear cut winners and losers . No talk. No.amelioration. just a fan of the lines with hooked arms facing the same direction.
LoYalty is my best worst attribute.

What glass of white wine will your lover hold when I bump into you at a bar?
What bottle will break in my fist?

So...Seattle.

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Four months

I've been single now four months. I leave Chicago in less than one month--23 days probably. No job, as of yet. No place to stay, as of yet. But prospects (I was just approved for a great short-term lease on a studio, so once they have their money, it's mine).

But I've been stress crying from exhaustion and waves of emotion. 

And still breakup songs. Return to me songs. Lines of poems I'll never write down. 

Slowly creeping out of "barely functioning but putting on a game face" and into "holding onto as much stability as I can muster for short periods of time."

The Adventure Westward is nerve-wrecking. Everyone keeps asking if it's exciting. That is a rare and fleeting feeling. It's more anxiety-inducing. Doubt-forming. Self-reliance-challenging. Depression-agitating. Eventually I'll build my courage and confidence from this. Just....not yet. 

I really appreciate everyone's encouragement and support, but it's like they believe in me more than I believe in myself. Maybe that's the thing. Where egotistical people believe more in themselves than others believe in them.
But humble people believe in themselves less than others do.

So my nerves are raw. Once I get an apartment or once I get a job, I'll be immensely relieved. Until then, I'm wearing my night guard each night and drinking LOTS of coffee. 

Anyway, I haven't been working out. I haven't been sleeping well. I have been working 10-hr days. I'm packing, loading up, doing what I can, still purging all during he weekend. All those things. I hope to get a lot done this weekend and next. 

Next weekend I lose my furniture--selling them to a friend. Which will be totally strange. Not having a squishy place to lay down when I get home. This selling of furture has been the plan the whole time, but having an empty living room is gonna be weird. I sold so much furniture, but I'm glad bc there's likely no room in the new place. 

I have so much to do in the next few weeks, I just hope coffee will pull me through! 

I have waves of "it'll be alright" and then waves of sadness that I'm doing this "alone." But I'm learning to accept he's never going to call or write me. 

For whatever reasons he has. Losing my best friend in the breakup has been hard for me. I just hope moving to Seattle to start fresh is the right move. Because I don't think I could handle staying here and running into him. 

My friend made me promise that I wasn't just running away to Seattle to get away from my ex. I'm not. I'm running there to start a new life, to be closer to stire, to figure out if what I think I need and want are one and the same. 

I want to hike. ACTUAL HIKING TRAILS. And run around a lake with a path. And eat fresh fish and get used to new surroundings. I want to be the person I've always been jealous of. 

And if I become the woman I've always wanted to be, that means fostering in a few years and adopting in a few more. Hiking. Fresh food. Better winters. A new job path. A little girl before I'm 40. Maybe a tiny house in a few years with a large garden and chairs to read. And a kitchen with space to feed my friends. 

Nothing flashy. Just right. 


Friday, February 20, 2015

HERO


I want to be this chick because she says all the things I've thought. Also, I had to tell someone who was yelling at me about his perfect writing that he'd forgotten a verb in his sentence. 

BOOM. 

You got editored.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

The Magic Hour Is Teaching Me the Edges of Want

Margaret Atwood — 'To want is to have a weakness.'

Cinematographers and photographers alike have deemed the time when the sun is setting and casts a blush-orange glow on everything "The Magic Hour." The lighting is perfect for filming and photos, the shadows golden and all things slightly fuzzy--a natural "retouching" by the sun.


This is the hour when I find my mind wandering. About how I'm leaving the apartment in which I wanted my ex and I to grow as a family. About dreaming about things that won't ever happen here now. Or at all. About giving away nearly all my stupid fucking possessions because they don't matter. About how material things weigh us down and consume our time when we should be helping and celebrating each other more.


I love the fucking light in this apartment. 


Between where I thought my life would be, where it is, where I want it to go, how happy I am, how alone I feel, how supported I feel, how grateful I am, and ending usually on just how FUCKING alive I am. 

Because every day I wake up, I am given a chance to DO something awesome. And awesome things take time. Baby building blocks of everything we've seen, done, everywhere we've been, every PERSON we've been...all leading up to turning points, riding the waves up and down that are thrown at us. Or lying on the shores in the sand, and feeling each wave pass over, creeping or tsunami. 


Each wrench in the wheels, each crippling wave that knocks us off our feet, still doesn't diminish our ability to stand back up.


And I always do that.


But my ankles are weak. I'm getting weary.


I'm 34 and I've seen no fewer than 4 suicidal major depressive episodes. Meds, therapy, support networks, copays, doctors, psychologists, psychiatrists, articles about the pros/cons of all coping mechanisms. Drinking, drugs, sex, self-hurt, TV, exercise, food, shopping, talking, group therapy, all the ways we push things down, we share, we heal. Read, watch, listen, learn, form an opinion, listen to the other side, flip it over, open up, readjust, reconsider, learn.


FUCK, MAN.


I have SO. MUCH. PRIVILEGE. and even I'm exhausted. I have insurance, and come from a middle class, and I'm a white woman with a Masters. I make enough money to get by. I have great friends and family. 


But no companion anymore. And since I was little, I've ALWAYS put the emphasis on the approval of another person, a partner, and wanting a family. 


Maybe we find ways to complain because our brains feel locked inside the reality that we are born, will live, and will die on this planet. Because we don't know for sure what is before or after consciousness. Maybe that's just me.


The Meaning of ItAll. Everyone makes up one's mind over the course of one's lifetime. Feast or famine. Fight, flight, or freeze. Make pretty things. Make money. Make babies. Make chaos. Make people listen. Make people move. Make people believe you. Make them believe in magic. Make them drink the KoolAid. Make believe. Make up your own fantasy. Make fantasy a reality. 


So back to this Magic Hour. I've always been in love with the way the sun hits things, its shadows, its sunset, and, on the rare occasion I catch it, its sunrise. So I can't help but get frozen by the way the sun floods my back window in my Chicago apartment. On the weekends when I attempt to apply to jobs, find apartments, finish taxes, FUCKING START PACKING, do anything other than watch TV and eat (no seriously), I am frozen by the sun and all these goddamn thoughts I have.


Namely because this is the second time I'm leaving a city after a breakup to a man I thought I'd marry. (Note: in 15 years, there's been two.) Each so drastically different. Both times, I felt like it was unfinished. I feel like I have to venture west to figure things out. To figure ME out.

Shadows hide the ugly. Illuminate the sky.


I know myself. I know who I am and who I am not. I am learning to be okay with that, to accept it, and to be proud and secure in that. 

But still I feel unfulfilled. I know what I want. I just don't know how to get it. I guess I need to learn to want what I have. Or to un-learn to want. 


When I was 29, I finally resolved that the greatest sadness I could experience would be to wait for someone to share my life with. Then I had a relationship that reversed that. 


These edges of want--to have and give and lose and gain--have been sharpened and smoothed hundreds of times. How sharp does this knife need to be?



Monday, February 2, 2015

Unfinished

This just feels half-baked. 
Unfinished.
Like there's still leaves
to turn.
Or rake 
and
set
on
fire.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Too. Real?

Ask Polly: How Do I Move on From The One


Now, when my friend sent this to me, I knew it struck a chord with me for many reasons, but I also know that my ex was never quite as cruel as the man in the story. He never SAID that he didn't need me, he just acted that way. And we loved each other deeply, or so I thought. But the not putting me as a priority, the interference of his always-a-priority job in our lives, it seemed there was far too often an excuse not to put me first. And I'm not saying always, but even sometimes--like important dates. He often did take me out when we agreed upon it on the weekends, or when I demanded so. Example: for birthdays and holidays he felt were mass marketing by the public, and I agreed, but I still wanted to be celebrated for fuck's sake.

I completely realize I regret never having thanked him for working the long hours to support us the way he did. I should have been more grateful. It's an excuse, but I felt like because he didn't celebrate me I wasn't outwardly thankful of him. Excuses hurled back and forth but never an actual fucking conversation between us....

But the main thing that gets me about this article is the way that the woman naturally loves and how foreign this was to her partner, and how similar this felt like my situation. For a good long while we were in love. And he said so. And I deepened my love for him. I started putting more eggs in this basket marked "forever." Then, I started forgetting about any other person I've ever loved until there was just Him and One Basket of Forever. But somewhere along the way, me and the relationship became a burden to him. 

The responsibility of everything about Us weighed on him like a lead jacket. I see relationships completely differently--as evidence proving my worth as a reliable, lovable person. So this and other relationships he has stress him out, create a sense of Always Needing. I feel a bit like my award for remaining loyal and committed and for trying to envision a future for us was a burden to him, and I just and still don't understand. The future excites me. Making plans, fulfilling dreams. Thinking about where I want to go and who I want to be, and breaking down the steps of how to get there. It always scared him.

So we broke up. He walked away. And now I'm moving across the country because being in the same city as him without being with him kills me. Every. Single. Day. I'm afraid I'm going to run into him on a date or with a new girlfriend and the last bit of me will be crushed. 

So....Seattle it is. March 27 I set sail across the Great Plains and mountains. I've never been to the states I'll drive through, so it IS pretty exciting.

But not speaking for nearly a month and thinking that my last words to him were harsh, is torture. I would still be willing to work through things. I still want him to move to Seattle with me. I still want him. I can't look at other people sexually. I can't even imagine being physical with someone. Or flirting. I flirted once with a guy at a bar and felt ashamed and grossed out by it as soon as I got home. Like I was cheating. Because in my mind, it IS cheating because my goddamn mind hasn't accepted that he and I aren't together anymore.

Hence the dream last night where I went postal that he was on Tinder.
Hence the dream the night before where I caught him on a date with this girl I knew in high school.
Hence the dream the night two nights before where I was in his house with his new wife and needed to just leave but was trapped somehow.

So I resist writing, "Come with me to Seattle" and hitting send.

Fucking break-ups. AMIRITE?!?!

Some days I've gone as long as 6 hours without imagining the life we'll never lead together. So I try to put my energy into things I have control over. (My therapist tells me this is good.) I put my energy into finding and applying to jobs in Seattle. I put my energy into getting rid of everything that won't fit into a teeny studio. I call my landlord to cancel my lease. I donate all the stupid things I bought to make me feel okay and loved and worthy. Because I'm American. Because I'm my mother's daughter. because I need to re-define myself. Because I need to re-design my future. Because so much of it has walked away.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Still

There are still two divots in the bed

And I almost always wake up on the wrong side.

And he is in my dreams. Every. Fucking. Night.

Still.

Two days shy of three months.

I just want to move to Seattle and hurry up and start over.

Press restart.

So I can make my new home somewhere where no one knows anything about me except for a few people. So I can leave the walls of a failed home.

I find things to fill the time. Distraction. Mending. Healing, I guess.

TV. Cooking. New friends. Old friends. Long-distance phone calls. "Checking in with people" so I don't have to say "good god this house is so still without his breath."

I just want to get to sleep before 2AM some fucking night.

Without having to down a bottle of red wine to myself.

Faulty reparations against my bones.

My body hurts because I quit working out and sit long hours at work without wanting to interact with people.

Days are getting better. I'm feeling "lighter." Not always so melancholy.

I once didn't think about him all day. But not at night.

At night the ghosts dance in the hallways and trip over the clutter on the ground.

I still leer at couples. I still cringe when people mention their partners, husbands, wives, etc. But the pictures of babies bother me less these days.

The happiness of others no longer feels like a red-hot syringe climbing up my veins.

Now it's just a tickle in the back of my eyes, a wince, a shrug.

I scour the internet for ideas for old-made-new items.

For the new life on the west coast that is waiting waiting waiting for me.

I simultaneously loathe and am saddened I don't own the uplifting Pinterest crafts that encourage me to "believe" and "love."

When did these messages become lame?  After college?

Between the career change and turning 30?

After my second "crushing" breakup?

After my twelfth friend or family member died?

Now I look at the crafts on Pinterest and assume that they're made by a housewife in Texas

who has 3 kids,

a 5-bedroom house in the country,

and oodles of time to make every meal from scratch

AND work out 2-hours a day.

She says "y'all" a lot.

Goes to church every week.

No jeans.

And goddamnit it makes me a little jealous.





Sunday, January 11, 2015

Why yes, I am acting like a 16-year-old right now. And I need to fucking grow up already.

It's been nearly three months since The Breakup. Last night was the first Saturday night that I went out (aside from visiting friends in Indy after Christmas). Just to a divey sports bar in Forest Park with a friend, but it still felt...weird. Like I shouldn't be doing that. Or smiling at other guys. As soon as I did, a part of me felt guilty. 

I can barely go a whole hour, let alone a whole day without thinking of Him. Night time is the worst. Which is why I drink. Because drinking + TV = numb. I've barely been able to do more than shower, work, couch, drink lately. But I need to get it together. I doubt he's wasting time thinking of me. And I need to put my energy into some good.

Thank god I have Tori, Ani, PJ, and Alanis to help me through this.  And the Cure. And Dashboard Confessional. And every other terrible album that helps me loathe everything. I mean, fuck I listened to Sheryl Crow. TWO ENTIRE SHERYL CROW ALBUMS.

It's gotten bad. I've been listening to pop. FUCKING POP. 
Ed Sheehan. That ginger fuck.
Sam Smith. ALL OF HIM.
Tove Lo. Lots of her shit.
And a bunch of really depressing emo shit.
Baths.
Banks.

I've been branching out and looking at new groups. Mostly because entire swaths of music I once enjoyed has been tainted by shows we went to together. Joy Formidable, MS MR, Phantogram, Amon Tobin, Deadmau5. Then all the music he introduced to me. Ulrich Schnauss. The Radio Department. Tycho. Goddamn Boards of Canada.

But for fuck's sake. I need to go to the gym. Stop treating my body like a goddamn garbage can. Cut back on the drinking. Focus on applying to jobs and less about purging everything I own. If it comes down to it, I'll just throw everything I don't want to move out in the alley. 

I've felt pretty dejected lately. I keep getting rejection e-mails. I also got an interview and a compliment at work, but it's hard for me to focus on the good right now. I just need to put my head down and focus. I just wish there was a way to cut out the part of me that has emotions. 

Until I can do that, I'll just have to focus on accepting that I need to work on myself. Alone. Myself. What I want to do. Alone. 

I've scraped my shit together before. I've made it through other break-ups. I'll make it through this one too. Again. 

*sigh*

Time to work on job apps. Put some good into today so it's not all a waste. So I don't waste what time I have left on a Sunday. And so I don't feel like such a waste myself.