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Oct. 14th, 2008 07:30 pmIt's rather fitting that I post again after spending my weekend at Faeriecon. I do rather feel like I've been spending most of the year 'under the hill' as it were, while this aspect of my life moves on at a hectic pace without me. I don't know why I've been locked into this feeling of wordlessness, but it's been like moving through mud, trying to figure out how to reach out. or my own life, there simply isn't a lot to say, things move as they have been, and while there have been some large changes, there's really nothing to say about them that doesn't make me feel as if I'm dwelling on losses.
An explanation - The prospective move to Buffalo is dead in the water, simply because there is not a job available there that will not require a ridiculous pay cut. Of course, every recruiter talks up how much cheaper it is to live there (and it is), but they're not moving with the plan of essentially supporting two older parents, one of whom is uninsured. *That's* not cheap. So, while the dream isn't totally dead, it is mostly dead. I'm figuring my father will have passed before Sirs' job experience and market forces work together enough to produce a viable position, considering he's 71 right now, and the economy is where it is. It was a good dream, though, and will still be nice when it does happen.
I never wanted to live in NYC. Many people were convinced I would at some point in my life, considering my immersion in the arts and liberal lifestyle, but I always found it overwhelming. When I moved here 8 years ago it *was* overwhelming - I described coming into Manhattan as "feeling like I was have a heart attack all the time". Of course time passed and I adapted, but even before I left Chicago (don't gt me wrong, I hated Chicago, and was delighted to leave) I felt grateful that I was moving here in my early twenties, young enough to enjoy and immerse myself in what it has to offer, but I also knew I'd age out of that, eventually become exhausted by it. I'm growing closer to that state.
Mind you, there's little enough that can be done about that - this is hardly the time for Sir to change jobs, and moving anywhere but Buffalo would be a settling for distant second, so I ignore it as best I can, and just go through the day to day, grinning and bearing all the patently absurd things I'm expected to put up with for the honor of living here. (yes, that sounds bitter. I do need some outlet:))
My art has become a fallow spot in my life, too many other things pulling at my attention, and my issues with devaluing my time. Thinking back on it, summer is frequently a fallow period for me, and my drives kick in with the turning of the leaves. Some sort of odd nesting thing, I guess.
My niece had the greatest idea for a Halloween costume ever - a ball gown, with a sash across her body that reads "I'm Sorry". A Formal Apology. : )
An explanation - The prospective move to Buffalo is dead in the water, simply because there is not a job available there that will not require a ridiculous pay cut. Of course, every recruiter talks up how much cheaper it is to live there (and it is), but they're not moving with the plan of essentially supporting two older parents, one of whom is uninsured. *That's* not cheap. So, while the dream isn't totally dead, it is mostly dead. I'm figuring my father will have passed before Sirs' job experience and market forces work together enough to produce a viable position, considering he's 71 right now, and the economy is where it is. It was a good dream, though, and will still be nice when it does happen.
I never wanted to live in NYC. Many people were convinced I would at some point in my life, considering my immersion in the arts and liberal lifestyle, but I always found it overwhelming. When I moved here 8 years ago it *was* overwhelming - I described coming into Manhattan as "feeling like I was have a heart attack all the time". Of course time passed and I adapted, but even before I left Chicago (don't gt me wrong, I hated Chicago, and was delighted to leave) I felt grateful that I was moving here in my early twenties, young enough to enjoy and immerse myself in what it has to offer, but I also knew I'd age out of that, eventually become exhausted by it. I'm growing closer to that state.
Mind you, there's little enough that can be done about that - this is hardly the time for Sir to change jobs, and moving anywhere but Buffalo would be a settling for distant second, so I ignore it as best I can, and just go through the day to day, grinning and bearing all the patently absurd things I'm expected to put up with for the honor of living here. (yes, that sounds bitter. I do need some outlet:))
My art has become a fallow spot in my life, too many other things pulling at my attention, and my issues with devaluing my time. Thinking back on it, summer is frequently a fallow period for me, and my drives kick in with the turning of the leaves. Some sort of odd nesting thing, I guess.
My niece had the greatest idea for a Halloween costume ever - a ball gown, with a sash across her body that reads "I'm Sorry". A Formal Apology. : )
