New York, New York

I'm here. Yes, I made it. I've only been here for two hours, and technically I'm in Brooklyn, so I haven't even gotten a glimpse of my favorite skyline. But tomorrow I have my first (and one of the most important) interview at 11 am, and as Ivy said, "You'll get off the subway and a chorus of angels will sing." Ok, maybe not, but it'll be nice.

The wonderful apartment I'm staying for a month is just that: wonderful, amazing, ridiculous. A little tease. And she has a cat who is making me miss my Rigby something awful.

And I'm not ashamed to admit it: I was a wreck upon leaving today. Leaving home gets harder and harder every time. Right now, at this very moment, I'm feeling ok. But ask me again tomorrow.

More soon.

Front Row Seat to Hear Ol' Jonny Sing

I've been remiss in not posting about the amazing Roots Festival that I went to a few nights ago with Nikki (who is now a Kansas resident!) and her friend. It's a blues and BBQ festival in teeny Paola, Kansas, (about 45 minutes from my parents' house) and apparently it's been going on for 19 years. I'm a terrible former Kansas resident, because I had no idea it even existed. But I went to see Jonny Lang and he was, as always, amazing--especially from the front row.



See this girl? She jumped up on stage and played the shaker with Jonny, saying it'd always been her dream (to be on stage with Jonny, not necessarily to play the shaker). She rocked.


I haven't been loving up enough on Kansas City. It is home and will always be home, and I know I will end up back there someday. Leaving there is getting progressively harder and harder. After moving yet again today, I think I'm ready to put this in writing: I'm done moving. Either I stay here forever, or I go back to the prairie.


There's no place like home ... (sorry, I had to)

Quite the Feat

I just have to give a quick shout-out to a favorite professor of mine, who--after kicking breast cancer's arse--achieved her goal of climbing East Spanish Peak. It's quite the mountain, I might add: a mere 10,700 feet. Congratulations, Pat!

I'm pretty lucky to have mentors like her who have helped me through all my career moves thus far. In fact, Pat was the one who told me that if my job wasn't making me happy and if it started making me question my talent or skills, it was time to say "adios."

But what stuck with me the most was when she said, "girl, go climb a mountain."

So, I did. Another plus of Portland was that in a mere 45 minutes, you could forget everything in the city/job/life and go climb a mountain. So, I called Nicole on a Saturday morning in May, and told her I wanted to hike Dog Mountain.


Now, it's not nearly 10,700 feet, mind you ... only about 3,500, if that. Hiking this gorgeous path wasn't the most strenuous or most difficult thing I've ever done (though it certainly did kick my butt in some parts). I didn't get to the top and feel that I'd accomplished one of the biggest, most life-defining things in my life. But who cares? I still felt fantastic, looking at Mt. Hood who was peeking out in one direction, and Mt. St. Helens who was peeking in the opposite. After all, I hadn't ever climbed a mountain before, so this felt pretty damn good.

That's Mt. St. Helens saying hello.

Most of all, it provided a bit of clarity. We're all deserving of jobs, relationships, and experiences that make us happy; and it's not selfish to admit that when something's not up to par, it's time to make a change. And although I could have stayed up at the summit of Dog Mountain all day, relishing in my small feat, I knew eventually it was time to come down, harness that bit of clarity, and re-join the world. I quit my job just a month later.

She'll kill me for posting this. Sorry, Nicole! It's the only photo I had!

And out in New York, there are certainly still mountains to climb. They're just a little different. I've conquered the first little foothills to some extent, I think, since I have six interviews in six days, starting the day after I arrive. It'll be busy and stressful and overwhelming, but most things worth it are. After all, we're all climbing our own versions of East Spanish Peak and Dog Mountain everyday, right? That's life.

John W Golden prints

Found John W Golden's etsy shop via Decor8. I love his simple graphic typography, especially his Moniker Series, prints of some of the best cities' nicknames. My favorites (naturally):


Just add in "Cowtown" for KC and, um [insert nickname for Des Moines here], and I'll have a full set.

Also love:

And I'll leave you with this print, from his Dogs and Cats series, as an homage to my Tess and Haley:


Oh, and one for Rigby, too (can't ever leave her out):

My quick ode to Aaron Peirsol

Keep on saving those oceans, dude -- and lookin' good while doing it ...

Call on Me

After traveling to Des Moines and having nothing but a spare Post-it to write my contact information on, I figured it was time to get my own business cards. After all, who knows how long it will be before I get a real job. I couldn't stand the idea of getting some run-of-the-mill cards from Kinko's or something, so I took a bit of time this afternoon to shop around some letterpress sites (twist my arm, really). I figured I could "gift" myself some personal letterpress since I love it so much ... besides, a creative field deserves creative cards, right? Here's some of what I found:

I love the vintage typewriter (the exact replica of the typewriter I'd actually like to find!) on this style from blackbird letterpress:


Also loved the classic style on these cards from Dolce Press:


These, though, were my favorites, from Brooklyn Social Cards (via Design*Sponge):



In the end, my budget wouldn't let me spend too much (most of these were upwards of $150 or $250 (!) for 200 cards), so I counted myself lucky when I found The Mandate Press's cute and relatively inexpensive letterpress calling cards. They're just $95 for 250 cards.

I'm now the lucky recipient of these, The Femme Fatale:


Love 'em.

Stumptown in NYC

Hurrah! A bit of Portland in NYC:

Stumptown is opening TWO locations in New York

This helps.

Little Victories

Ladies and gentlemen, good news: I have a job interview when I get to New York!

I know, it's just one interview. But it's been quite some time since I've heard back from anyone in this job search, so I take what I can get. If I had some extra cash I'd buy this little number to wear at it:

I'm accepting donations.

In other news (or, perhaps it's related), I've been a bit stressed lately. I woke up last night at 3 a.m. thinking there was a baby (a baby!) in my bed and that I'd lost it. I immediately turned on my bedside lamp, shut my bedroom door, and frantically (very panicked. Heart racing and everything) searched through my bed until I realized, a) there was no freaking baby, and b) I'm an idiot. I went back to sleep.

So this afternoon, I'm taking some time away from this:


My never-ending pile of clips, resumes, and cover letters ... (yes that's Rigby helping out)

... to instead deal with this:


... my never-ending pile of books and magazines. Ah, so much more enticing, don't you think? It'll be a good respite, I think, and hopefully remind me of why I'm doing what I'm doing.

And on the back of my Yoga Journal (speaking of, why does Kansas lack any decent yoga studios?) I found this ad for lululemon. First off, I love that it's for lulu and you'd never know; it doesn't say it anywhere. And secondly, it's a bit uplifting without being too schmaltzy.


"Do one thing a day that scares you."

Today, that one thing will be a bike ride with my dad sans a helmet. Wish me luck!

Kansas City, Here I Come

Or, more accurately, Kansas City, Here I've Been.

It's been two weeks since I've left Portland. And since then, I've been to nine states: Oregon, Washington, Georgia, Missouri, Kansas, Illinois, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Iowa. It's been a busy few weeks. It's keeping my mind away from being currently unemployed (which really, I'm not, considering I've kept up my income and then some freelancing ... thank goodness).

My days are filled with applying for jobs, working on freelancing, sending out packets of cover letter, resume, clips, cover letter, resume, clips.

And somewhere in between, I went to a good friend's wedding, saw my friends from college, came home, (cover letter, resume, clips, yet again) then went up to Des Moines for a few days. I mostly went to get a bit more freelance work, but ended up squeezing all I love about Des Moines into 48 hours: went to the fair (you do know it's on of the 1,000 Places to See Before You Die, right?), had salad and pizza at Centro, enjoyed wine and cheese on a good friend's porch, had a bean burrito at El Rodeo, sat outside at Snookies, and woke up early to spend all morning at the world's best farmers market (sorry, Portland, I love you, but Des Moines kicks your butt when it comes to farmers markets).




I realized one thing: I'm lucky. I'm a lucky lucky lucky girl. Not only do I have friends all across the country, I have good friends who honestly care about me and my happiness and success. And who will eat bad Mexican food with me, go for a swirl cone at Snookies right afterward, then sit around and watch the Olympics on a Friday night.



For a while upon coming back to KC and leaving Portland, I was afraid I couldn't really ever come home again; that things change too quickly and they won't ever quite be the same when you return. To be honest, I did feel a bit like an outsider in Des Moines, not living there anymore. And I think what I'm really afraid of is that some day, I'll go back to Portland and it will be so different than when I was there this year -- that Portland will have forgotten me.

But, I never felt such a warm homecoming as when I did going back to Des Moines. I was booked solid with breakfasts, lunches, coffees, and dinners. I can only hope New York welcomes me back with such open arms; and that Portland will, too, when I find my way back there even for just a visit.