A Remarkable 6 Weeks of Mishaps

I wish that word was pronounce "Miss-shaps". Saying that aloud would potentially make any unfortunate happening a bit easier to take and maybe even slightly laughable. Or how about "mih-shaps", like I imagine Sean Connery says it? Yeahh, way better.
Since arriving in the beautiful Pacific Ring of Fire hotspot known as Western Washington, it has been a nearly continuous sequence of mihshaps.

At first, I was just tired. The drive, though an incredibly scenic, somewhat life altering journey, was totally exhausting. When I arrived, all I wanted was a comfortable, consistent bed to sleep in and to get used my new job. That didn't really happen, and hasn't really happened yet. Ok, so it sort of has, with the super help of my mother, brother and Coremed, I've had a bed to sleep in every night, but my first 2 weeks here I moved every 2 nights or so. Me and my poor cats barely had enough time to sleep between moving and juggling money and working 12 hours shifts and trying to find the next place to stay. The list of moves is ridiculous, due to bed bugs and places not allowing cats, other places having no where to cook, store or eat any food. 4 nights I payed double for hotel rooms. What a waste! Finally, after two weeks, I found myself a closet apartment to live in after acquiring over a grand in debt to my company and my family members.

Since living in my new apartment, to be known from here on out as the closet, or HPBC, minus the adorable sleeping man boy, and finally getting used to a job that I don't much care for, I have been living on about 50 dollars a week due to the debt I've accumulated and the need to save money to pay rent and for my trip to Ireland in October. Mr. Beeblebrox got mega ill, and it cost a pretty $600 to save his life. This was the $600 I was supposed to spend on coming home for my mom's 60th, which I ended up missing because I wouldn't let my cat die. I am overdue by double for an oil change, my stereo in my car has stopped working, I have broken and damaged my $400 worth of my security deposit already, I have to file for a passport and a new license, I have a torn ligament in my left foot, and it takes an hour to drive 14 miles to work everyday.

To summarize this whiny bitch-fest of first world problems;  I am 3100 miles from everyone and everything I know, I live in a closet and I am broke, having just enough money to get to/from work and to buy food for myself and my cats. The time difference has made for extra lonely time due to not being able to get in touch with my most usual chat artists on the regular, though luckily this is straightening out. Daily, something ridiculous happens that either puts me out of time, money or energy. Needless to say, my usual optimistic, perky and go-with-the-flow snark-filled attitude has been stifled into a mostly tired, pity-partying self centered existence.

What I really need is a swift kick in the ugly ugly sad pants I've been wearing, because I feel like I have been totally lost in this manure cesspool of negativity. I've been focusing on my feelings of defeat and disappointment that things weren't just magical and totally perfect the day I arrived and that I don't have a ton of spending money to sight see or be leisurely with. So, in the event that I wake up tomorrow, or the next day or the next, feeling less than impressed with my life or where I am at right now, I have decided to write a letter to myself to remind me that life is pretty fucking awesome and I need to just deal with it.

Dear Lora,
If today you are feeling especially down, slightly depressed or even remotely melancholy, please refer to the itemized list below.

1. There are worse closets to be trapped in. Just ask R. Kelly

2. There are worse things in life than disappointment, and you have lived through several of them already. Also remember what Martin Freeman said, "Disappointment is an endless wellspring of comedy inspiration." Effin A right, Arthur Dent. You can improve today by not wallowing in what should have or could have, but what you can make of today, tomorrow and the next. Today could be started with you making this face in the mirror and picturing a miniature, disappointed Keanu Reeves on your left shoulder. See? Disappointment comedy is a no lose situation.

3. Money is tough. Someday's you have some, some days you don't, but you're saving for your next big adventure. Remember your priorities and you'll figure it out. Plus, there is free shit to do around every corner. Go read a book in the park. You love that crunchy shit.

4. This is not your bed. Gandhi lived here, and didn't eat for 116 days to fight for what he believed in. Everything I could write after that seems nearly insignificant. Remember, just because you are not Gandhi does not mean you are this grumpy lump of a human, either. So stop being a wanker, get yourself in the shower, and don't be late for work. Gandhi was never late for his hunger strike. Also, I'm pretty sure that Boca Burger would have been just fine for Gandhi's dinner and would have lasted him one entire week. It probably would have been a fucking vegetarian feast. And you have ketchup? You spoiled hen. Gandhi would have given that shit to the poor and eaten just the crumbs to survive. Gandhi probably made his bed every day, too. Just sayin'.

5. You live here. In a land of water, fresh and salt, of hills and ancient green forests and of epic volcanoes, where the temperature rarely reaches and doesn't get much hotter than 90. Seriously, has there ever been a more perfect climate and geology in your imagination ever? No? Oh, except for Rivendell of course, but lets be honest, the whole being stuck with a never aging Cate Blanchett is kind of like your worst nightmare, eh? Plus, the time for Elves is over. Now is the time of Lora the Seattleite.

6. I am sick of thinking of reasons. Take a deep breath and try and enjoy your life. Nothing is bad enough right now to warrant weeks upon weeks of this terrible slump. Stop wasting your life being miserable about all the things that could possibly make you miserable and start spending it being stoked on all of the things that could possibly make you happy. Ready. Set. Go.

Thanks for bearing with me through this, all. It is so therapeutic to see it written out. Much love goes out to all my East Coasters for dealing with the series of unfortunate event phone calls, apathetic voicemails and the occasional sniffly-crying bits. I love you all so so much, and never would have made it these 6 weeks without your continuous support answering all of my plees, contributing monetary donations and providing much needed commiseration. Mom, Kate, Matt, Erin, Justin, Bonnie, Lori, and facebook friends who have commented on status updates, all of you have made this manageable. Thank you, thank you, thank you.


I promise my next blog will have more snark, more pictures and probably more inappropriate links. <3