[ music | Frank Sinatra – That’s Life ]

Well, I’m not gonna roll my self up and die… But I am gonna roll my self up. So, today I finally managed to talk to one of my best friends after far too long an interruption. And while I forgot a bunch of things I wanted to bring up, I did manage to mention my impending move plans. Well, ok, she reminded me, but that still counts! I was talking about how Pittsburgh is just a stepping stone for me, and that I’d rather move more eastward like Philly, Jersey, or ideally the NYC area. Then she mentioned why not Boston? There’s boatloads of tech jobs up there (Silicon Alley anyone?), and a much more vibrant performing arts community than in Pittsburgh. I’d vaguely thought of it before, as I’ve been sending my resume out to recruiters, and one was talking about throwing me in the hat for a job with a Boston-based company.

Later when I was hanging out in IRC (something I do too much of I suppose), another friend (MightyMu) said a couple things that started to make it all soak in. “Boston’s a better town for that than pgh, anyway”, which is rather obvious, but I continue. “The problem with Pittsburgh is – where do you go? Closest states are Ohio and West Virginia, no other major cities nearby, you’re out there all by yourself.” This is something I have always known, it’s somewhat inescapable if you have ever looked at a map. But hearing it from someone else (especially someone else in PA), it just gave it an entirely different poignancy. I have always an an affinity to the Northeast. Being born in Pittsburgh was great, it’s a great town, but he was right. Pittsburgh is the last outpost of Easternism. Pittsburgh was the original “Gateway to the West” long before St. Louis held that title. And if I have always loved the East Coast, the Atlantic Ocean, and New York, why am I going to move to the most southern and western urban area in the Northeast?

I have one real friend left in the area, Alex. I’ve lost contact with everyone else, being away from the area for 7 years now, and can’t think of anyone who means enough to me to stay there. I can stay friends with Alex from anywhere, and he’s getting married in September, so we can’t exactly go cruising for chicks anyway. So what’s holding me there? Nothing. And now I have a fantastic friend in the heart of the Northeast, core-Blue-State America, a stone’s throw from the Big Apple, who can show me around and inject me with a new circle of friends, and someone I actually want to stay friends with. And the place is rotten with opportunities for me both technically (so I can pay the bloody rent) and artistically (for when I break out of the tech industry). This is the place where the original Americans were forged from the cold furnace of harsh winters and an untamed land. So really, what is there to decide?

So, there it is. I’m moving to Boston, instead. Reboot My Life will be changed soon to reflect this, too. I can’t believe after all these years I actually have a life plan that makes sense.

I’m also stealing jwz’s per-post music thing. Yes, I now succumb to more blog memes. I’m evil, what can I say.

Wow. Ok, I finally found my long lost CD of Heather Nova’s Oyster. I bought this album back in high school after hearing “Walk This World” once. A lot like how my Tori Amos fandom began. Well, I haven’t been able to listen to this album since 1999 when I misplaced it. I forgot how emotionally raw this album is. Dear god, it’s like this woman found some magic lantern and wished for a direct pipe to the brain via sound, and uses this pipe to send 50,000 volts (carrying at least 100 amperes) of pure, unfiltered, unavoidably narcotic emotion directly into your amygdala. Or maybe this is just tapping into what I put into it as a teenager. I always have been some deep running waters. Scares the hell out of me sometimes. Anyway, I’m sitting here as it flows from track to track, so high on some tracks I’m literally dizzy; so low on others that there is an elephant on my chest; so incredibly tortured on some that I want to scream out so this icy hand will stop squeezing my heart. I actually had to pause the album because my heart was racing and skipping beats.

I haven’t felt like this in years. It’s magnificent to feel so tortured again. I’ve been dead for far too long.