Why I’m Stressing Out, But Not Really

Shortly after my father died in 1992, my mom packed up our life in Anchorage, Alaska and moved  my two-year-old brother and four-year-old me to a significantly less gloomy place: a spacious apartment in Lake Oswego, Oregon. It has been 22 years since then, and Oregon has been the only place I have ever called “home.”

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Yesterday while packing up my kitchen, I realized that this move to Seattle will mark the first time in 22 years  that I have lived in a state other than Oregon. What’s even crazier is that I start my new job at the magazine on Monday at 10am.


I don’t know if you know this about me, but working for a magazine has always been a dream of mine. Yes, it’s true that this is an unpaid internship, but it’s a necessary step toward the career I want. Another dream of mine has always been to move away from home and try to succeed on my own in a big city. Ever since we moved to Oregon (and since I can remember), I would always visit my aunties in Seattle and they would teach me invaluable life lessons about tolerance on Capitol Hill, and how to scare off creeps at Pike Place. I’m so excited to live close to them (and Kenzie) and to get out of my comfort zone.


And thanks to my supportive family and friends, I’m not as stressed as I should be about moving. I would describe my feelings as anxious (I’ve been dreaming a lot about taxidermy), and I am very excited about all the new-ness I will experience while living in Seattle. Multiple friends have offered to help me pack, move, unpack, and — in Kenzie’s case — decorate! It is all very much appreciated, and I can’t thank you all enough.

The other thing that makes this transition super easy is that I have been reassured by many of my friends that they will gladly make the trek up north to visit me when they need to get out of Portland for a day or two. And I owe it to my network of friends to give them a place to crash when they’re passing through! While me and Madison were following Justin Bieber (and JT) around the country over the last year, we were so grateful for the individuals who offered up their spare rooms, couches, and beds so that we could have a couple days of unbridled fangirling. I may not have much, but I hope that if you ever have a good excuse to come to Seattle (say, to see Beyonce and Jay Z, or the Capitol Hill Block Party, the Fourth of July), you will let me return the favor of letting you sleep on my floor.

Welp, I had better get back to work. That laundry isn’t going to do itself!




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