Sunday, January 04, 2009
finding my happy place

Saturday I drove out of Dallas with the morning sun in the rearview. I listened to Our Love to Admire by Interpol for the first hour out of town. My favorite music is always a comfort to me as I think of the future. What am I considering doing? I've yearned to leave Dallas and be Elsewhere. How will life change? How will I change?

Then I popped in Coldplay's Viva la Vida, which I just purchased recently but hadn't really listened to, other than the delectable earworm that's popped up all over the place. Songs opened with full gospel organ to plodding beats, Chinese dulcimer strings sprang blossoms of sound which seemed to pulse in time with a flurry of birds over the road ahead, wings flashing as the flock contracted, expanded, then turned of one mind. A train of coal cars passed with their loads piled in impossibly symmetrical forms. Dry native grasses swayed in the wind, their stalks ranging from gold to rusty pinks, looking like velour in the sunlight under a cloudless sky. Funny how pretty something so banal can be if you take a moment to really look at it.

I've found a job listing in another city in Texas, but in the same industry. I'm pulling my C.V. together and applying this week. The administration in the company I'm applying with is a slow, plodding thing, so I expect if I get an interview, it'll be more than a month away, and if I should land the job, then that'd be as much as 2 or 3 months away. I've been to that city before and liked it and the surrounding areas, so I moseyed out to check it out more closely yesterday.


Moving from Town in this information-saturated age is a different prospect than 20 or even 10 years ago. I maintain a few close friendships, but I can do so as easily from another town. I don't see my friends every day, so no reason why I can't just make the effort to drive a few hours to see them every so often anyhoo. With a phone call or the click of a mouse, I can have pretty much any exotic product I could wish for delivered to my door in relatively short order. All things being equal, the charm of being in a big burgh is pale compared to that of a place where I could feel safer in my own home and not be wakened by the sound of expressway traffic at 4 AM.

I found a charming town of which I'm exceedingly fond. I scheduled an appointment to see a house, and a little corgi marched resolutely up to greet me as I waited for the realtor to arrive. I looked around and saw lots of nice trees, and some of the houses had that adorable Swiss Miss edging along the rooflines. Very cute. It turned out the nice older gentleman realtor was the builder of the houses in that neighborhood in the 60s. I met some more lovely folks who live on the street, and I really like the the neighborhood. It's quiet with nice families and perhaps they wouldn't mind having an eccentric artistic type living on the street?

Drove around the area, found the workplace, found Hobby Lobby and Michaels and even a flea market/thrift store (get thee behind me) that wants serious mining, considering my heart raced as I gazed upon it. (More crap! I need more crap!)

Anyway. Dallas is a lovely city in many ways. Fantastic shopping abounds, and there are so many great restaurants and galleries in town. Lots of fantastic live music may be heard here, and that's always been a big deal to me, but I find it's less satisfying than it once was. If I move, and there's a show I really want to see, I can always come back to the area and attend the show with Holly and spend the night with her. I can always just buy the CD anyhoo, right?

Living here has been wonderful to me in so many ways, but it's time for something different. I don't expect ever to live here again. This has been sweet, but my life is not about being in this place. Hang on tightly; let go lightly.

This is all very chicken-counting and early days, of course, but if things do move forward, they will do so at avalanche pace, and for once in my life, I'm preparing for possibilities, instead of procastinating and crossing my fingers. If I don't get the job I really want, I'll keep trying until I land one that works for me, and I'll be certain the job I landed was the one I was meant to have. After all, I'm working to live, and not living to work.



Written by phlegmfatale
14 cared enough to comment!


Name: Phlegmfatale
Location: Elsewhere, Texas, USA

I'm not whining;
I'm unburdening.
FATALE ABSTRACTION


Learn more here



September 2002

November 2002

January 2003

March 2003

June 2003

July 2003

August 2003

September 2003

October 2003

November 2003

December 2003

January 2004

February 2004

March 2004

April 2004

May 2004

June 2004

July 2004

August 2004

September 2004

October 2004

November 2004

December 2004

March 2005

April 2005

June 2005

July 2005

August 2005

September 2005

October 2005

November 2005

December 2005

January 2006

February 2006

March 2006

April 2006

May 2006

June 2006

July 2006

August 2006

September 2006

October 2006

November 2006

December 2006

January 2007

February 2007

March 2007

April 2007

May 2007

June 2007

July 2007

August 2007

September 2007

October 2007

November 2007

December 2007

January 2008

February 2008

March 2008

April 2008

May 2008

June 2008

July 2008

August 2008

September 2008

October 2008

November 2008

December 2008

January 2009

February 2009

March 2009

April 2009

May 2009

June 2009

July 2009

August 2009

September 2009

October 2009

November 2009

December 2009

January 2010

February 2010

March 2010

April 2010

May 2010

June 2010

July 2010

August 2010

September 2010

October 2010

November 2010

December 2010

January 2011

February 2011

March 2011

April 2011

May 2011

June 2011

July 2011

August 2011

September 2011

October 2011

November 2011

December 2011

January 2012

February 2012

March 2012

April 2012

May 2012

June 2012

July 2012

August 2012

September 2012

October 2012

November 2012

December 2012

January 2013

February 2013

March 2013

April 2013

May 2013

June 2013

July 2013

August 2013

September 2013

October 2013

November 2013

December 2013

January 2014

February 2014

March 2014

April 2014

May 2014

June 2014

July 2014

August 2014

September 2014

October 2014

November 2014

December 2014

January 2015

February 2015

March 2015

April 2015

May 2015

June 2015

July 2015

August 2015

September 2015

October 2015

November 2015

December 2015

January 2016

February 2016

March 2016

April 2016

May 2016

June 2016

July 2016

August 2016

October 2016

December 2016

January 2017

March 2017

April 2017

May 2017

June 2017

July 2017

October 2017

Who links to me?