Byra Busts a Move

Destination: Seattle

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I am remiss…

I started this little blog as a place to organize and vent my thoughts and fears on moving.   …and then, like so many things I have started with the best intentions, I promptly abandoned it.  Please never give me a puppy.  (That’s a lie.  Please give me a puppy if you have one.  Many puppies.  I’ll even accept kittens.) 

In any case, this is me, recognizing my lapse and vowing to try harder in the future to put my two cents into the internet void on a more regular basis. 

What I think I have found/will continue to find difficult is walking that very fine line between charming and informative, and a bland recount of my mostly rather boring days.  I promise to strive for the first.

So prepare yourselves for: Episodes in The Life of an Office Drone, Dispatches from Fringe Theatre Land, Musings on Missing Home, OHMIGURSH I Love It Here SOOO Much [short stories], and many, many more. 

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Why shouldn’t I work for the N.S.A.? That’s a tough one, but I’ll take a shot. Say I’m working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I’m real happy with myself, ‘cause I did my job well.

But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never met, never had no problem with, get killed.

Now the politicians are sayin’, “Oh, send in the Marines to secure the area” ‘cause they don’t give a shit. It won’t be their kid over there, gettin’ shot. Just like it wasn’t them when their number got called, ‘cause they were pullin’ a tour in the National Guard. It’ll be some kid from Southie takin’ shrapnel in the ass. And he comes back to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, ‘cause he’ll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And, of course, the oil companies used the skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them, but it ain’t helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. And they’re takin’ their sweet time bringin’ the oil back, of course, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and fuckin’ play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain’t too long ‘til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic.

So now my buddy’s out of work and he can’t afford to drive, so he’s got to walk to the fuckin’ job interviews, which sucks ‘cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin’ him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he’s starvin’, ‘cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat, the only blue plate special they’re servin’ is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State.

So what did I think? I’m holdin’ out for somethin’ better. I figure fuck it, while I’m at it why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president.

Will Hunting (via ryking)

(via soupsoup)

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Muslims turned up in droves for the Coptic Christmas mass Thursday night, offering their bodies, and lives, as “shields” to Egypt’s threatened Christian community

soupsoup:

Egypt’s majority Muslim population stuck to its word Thursday night. What had been a promise of solidarity to the weary Coptic community, was honoured, when thousands of Muslims showed up at Coptic Christmas eve mass services in churches around the country and at candle light vigils held outside.

From the well-known to the unknown, Muslims had offered their bodies as “human shields” for last night’s mass, making a pledge to collectively fight the threat of Islamic militants and towards an Egypt free from sectarian strife.

“We either live together, or we die together,” was the sloganeering genius of Mohamed El-Sawy, a Muslim arts tycoon whose cultural centre distributed flyers at churches in Cairo Thursday night, and who has been credited with first floating the “human shield” idea.

I’m not a religious person, but this nearly brought me to tears.

This - THIS - is the kind of national community we should aspire to.  I am humbled and moved.

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So guess what, Republicans: your “We’re the only party that understands 9/11 and its repercussions” monopoly ends now. So, no more co-opting 9/11 imagery to get yourselves elected; no more using 9/11 as the date when, magically, all your policies became right; no more using 9/11 to micromanage lower Manhattan zoning decisions; no using 9/11 as an excuse for why your Bush tax cuts never stimulated the economy in the first place; or 9/11 as an excuse for what you were going to be doing anyway. No more using 9/11 as a price point. You know what, Republicans? You use [9/11] so much, if you don’t owe the 9/11 responders healthcare, you owe them royalties!
JON STEWART, letting the GOP have it over their hypocrisy in voting down legislation that would have granted 9/11 first responders comprehensive healthcare benefits, on The Daily Show. (via inothernews)

(via soupsoup)

509 notes

So guess what, Republicans: your “We’re the only party that understands 9/11 and its repercussions” monopoly ends now. So, no more co-opting 9/11 imagery to get yourselves elected; no more using 9/11 as the date when, magically, all your policies became right; no more using 9/11 to micromanage lower Manhattan zoning decisions; no using 9/11 as an excuse for why your Bush tax cuts never stimulated the economy in the first place; or 9/11 as an excuse for what you were going to be doing anyway. No more using 9/11 as a price point. You know what, Republicans? You use [9/11] so much, if you don’t owe the 9/11 responders healthcare, you owe them royalties!
JON STEWART, letting the GOP have it over their hypocrisy in voting down legislation that would have granted 9/11 first responders comprehensive healthcare benefits, on The Daily Show. (via inothernews)

(via soupsoup)

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soupsoup: The End Of The Do Something Congress We’ll continue to have those arguments over the next few years. But we won’t get anywhere on them. What’s been uncommon about the past two years is that the Democrats in Congress managed to put aside enough of their disagreements to get big, important things done, things they really believed would make this country better, things they’d been fighting and working for and trying to do for decades. That this has been the most “do-something” Congress we’ve seen in 40 years hasn’t made much of an impression on the public. Multiple polls have found that only a minority of voters know that the 111th Congress got more done than most congresses. That’s true even among Democrats. Nor has their productivity made the 111th Congress popular. But if they failed as politicians, they succeeded as legislators. And legislating is, at least in theory, what they came to Washington to do.

soupsoup:

The End Of The Do Something Congress

We’ll continue to have those arguments over the next few years. But we won’t get anywhere on them. What’s been uncommon about the past two years is that the Democrats in Congress managed to put aside enough of their disagreements to get big, important things done, things they really believed would make this country better, things they’d been fighting and working for and trying to do for decades.

That this has been the most “do-something” Congress we’ve seen in 40 years hasn’t made much of an impression on the public. Multiple polls have found that only a minority of voters know that the 111th Congress got more done than most congresses. That’s true even among Democrats. Nor has their productivity made the 111th Congress popular. But if they failed as politicians, they succeeded as legislators. And legislating is, at least in theory, what they came to Washington to do.

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What she sang, “whaaaoooo”, and High Scores!

Dan and I made it safely and happily to Boulder last night, after what felt like nothing but was in reality a very long day in the car.  We made a pitstop in Mitchell to see the Corn Palace (Dan had never experienced the wonder) 

And then it was just us and the open road for many, many miles.  Stopped in Denver to kill a little time before meeting up with Sam and Dann in Boulder, and showed Dan my old stomping grounds… which I’m pretty sure neither of us remembers particularly well.  You know that feeling when you finally get out of the car after hours and hours and you’re sorta not right in the head yet?  That’s what we were up to as we wandered the Denver Center.  it was nice to see it, though, and to know that it still smells the same…. and to see that the dancing aliens have not as of yet decided to start walking through downtown Denver.  Hanyway, I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed that neck o’ the woods, and it was reassuring to have the feeling of homey-ness wash over me as I walked the familiar routes to my favorite places.  I made this my home once, I can certainly make another one elsewhere.


Dinner at the Rio Grande!   Best Margs EVAR.

After a little bit more reminiscing and shuffling around downtown, we turned toward Boulder/Broomfield and found ourselves at a nifty little nightspot called the Night Owl Lounge (Thanks Gabby!!), where Dan and I proceeded to DOMINATE the touch screen games.

I’ve never had a high score on a game before!  We are beasts.

…and that was the first day on the road.  Far too few pictures, and lots of groundwork for what are sure to be fantastic inside jokes in the coming days.

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From the night before

I wrote this as an intended email Sunday night as I was trying to go to sleep the night before starting the epic roadtrip/move.

Hi Friend.

It’s 10:43PM on the night before I leave Sioux Falls to embark on my adventure westward.  The car is mostly packed and only awaits the suitcase I’ll live out of while on the road.  I’m so excited to go, SO ready for this new journey.  And so goddamn terrified.  I’ve had very very few doubts about this endeavor - almost none, actually - until today.  Today, when I was sitting in the middle of all of my most important belongings, packed and taped into boxes, just waiting transportation to my new home, and every doubt and fear and horror that could be associated with this move came crashing down on me like so many linebackers on Brett Favre.   I chose this for myself - I chose a city I’ve never been to, and a circumstance with almost no limitations and every possibility in the world - a brand new start.  A chance to chase down happiness and make it mine.  But I had moments today when I just wanted to yell “stop! I’m not ready yet!  It’s too soon, it’s too fast, I have more to do here!” …which kinda feels true, but I know it isn’t.  I’m just more heartsick than I thought I would be about leaving.  This is home… it always has been, and there’s a lot that goes with that.    I think in the end it comes down to my fear of change, of losing the security blanket that is this place that I know so well.  I’ve never NOT lived here.  And here I go traipsing off to a part of the country I’ve never seen, let alone a city.  It’s petrifying.  What I’m doing takes courage, takes gumption and will and a lot of other nouns and adjectives I would never normally associate with a description of me.  I’m looking in the mirror and wondering who this woman is, this person with all this pluck and spirit… I don’t recognize her.  But I’m trusting her.  I’m ceding to her better judgement and her apparent muchness to conquer the muchness of this newness I’m giving to myself.  Wow, lots of pronoun and verb tense crosses there… but the point is somewhere along the way and without my being conscious of it, I made the hard decision to take ownership of my life and gave myself permission to go and do and be.  So even though I sit trembling in the corner of my bed, I know it will be ok.  Tomorrow morning I’ll wake up, take a last look at Sioux Falls as ‘Home’, and trust that I can leave it and take care of myself

PostScript: Leaving was very hard and the first hour of the trip was an exercise in calmly dealing with total emotional overload.  And after that it was completely amazing… more about that to come.

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Miranda is a Stage Manager and can’t help herself. (I’m much the same)

Itinerary for an Epic Road Trip:
(all times are ‘-ish’)

Mon
8am Leave SuFu!
9pm Arrive in BOULDER!!

Tues
Day w/Sammi!

Wed
9am Leave Boulder
10pm Arrive in BOISE
[OR 6pm Arrive in Salt Lake City]

Thurs
Day in Boise
[OR 9am Leave SLC; 1p Arrive in Boise]

Fri
9am Leave Boise
6pm ARRIVE IN SEATTLE!! WOOOO!!!!!

Sat
I live in Seattle now

Sun
DanDan Flies back to MN :(

Mon
The greatest parents in the world arrive in my new city.  Seattle.  Where I live now.

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the final countdown

…da da dum dum… da da dum dum dum…

With less than 48 hours to go, and the packing seeming to be a never-ending story (and cue movie theme… that’s going to be in my head for hours…) The Move is reality, and I am sitting in the middle of my partially packed room hoping I can manage to somehow cram it all into the remaining boxes and *finally* just be done.  It has been, quite frankly, a grueling process.  I have, however, gleaned some nuggets of personal truth while digging through the dust and spending time with the people that have made this place Home.

Things I have learned in the last weeks at home:

- I have entirely too much shit.

- No, really, I have a lot of crap.

- For all the things I have resented about my little Midwest hometown, SuFu has been very good to me.  This is especially true in terms of the community I have created for myself.  There are a lot of truly remarkable, wonderful, brilliant people in my life as a result of this place, I am so very grateful for every single one of them.

- Anyone who can move across the country in two suitcases…or even just a small car… is my personal hero.  Please teach me your ways of awesome.

- Packing is about the least fun thing ever.  EVAR.  Especially for a highly emotional person such as myself.  I have been so overwhelmed with excitement and trepidation and anticipation that I frequently find myself crying while I sort through this life of mine and put it in boxes and bins.  Not necessarily because I am sad, though in some hours that has been the case.  It’s more because there is just *so much* I’m trying to process at once, and I’m your classic weeper - it’s just how I release. 

- I really do have entirely too much stuff. Oh. My. Jeebus.

- Life is good, the universe will hold you up if you let it, and HOLY GOD I’M MOVING ON MONDAY!