dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

authentic work

This morning I reconnected with an interesting friend from my past, very pleased because he's very different from most of my peeps, on the other side of some spectrums--spectra?, and I like different. And I did some other good social things.

SAT scoring is going fine. My stats were bad but looking better.

I'm learning how to manage the heat--when to close and open which windows to minimize the time that the air conditioner has to be on. I go into summer kicking and screaming--it takes a little while to learn how to be my summer-self.

Here is what I want to do: find a real job in the Bay, as close to Berkeley as possible, so we can move there. A real job would look like something with editing. But I can never remember whether editing has two t's, so maybe it should be something different?

Something with books. Something that pays, uh, you know, within the real-job-range. Ideally, I would be food writing or freelance writing or making a living as a poet--yeah right! Or teaching literature or poetry somewhere without grades or tests. But I can't freelance because I can't shmooze and sell myself and be constantly go-go-go.

But something else with books or writing would be good enough. Anywhere I'm not going to be yelled at, where I can either put my heart and soul into the work, or have enough freedom that it won't matter.

I'm going to keep thinking, talking, and praying about this until it happens. Or we change plans.

On our moving list, the Bay is number one--Portland's a distant number two, since it's so far from my family, but if we fall in love on our trip, that could change. Somewhere near Santa Maria like Carpenteria is a distant third, because Erik's not too excited about the area.

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