Seattle: Home?

Definitely not yet.

I've read some odd things about this place. It was one of the last places colonized by Americans in the whole country. No one really got here until the mid-1800s because of all those mountains in the way. In 1851 a couple of guys from New York came out here intending to make it the hip new American city, even dubbing it "New York Pretty Soon." That didn't pan out, and the people of Seattle were kind of upset about it. They then went the way of all previously established areas of civilization and wiped out the Native American population, then attempted to eradicate all the Chinese and Japanese. Everyone feels bad about that now, of course.

Fast forward to the 1950s and '60s: newspaper columns feature headlines like "Have a nice day -- somewhere else!" and "Our suicide rate is one of the highest in the nation. But we can be No. 1!"

Even today, Seattle is most famous for rain and grunge rock, neither particularly happy things. Today Toby remarked that everyone here looks like somebody's wayward cousin, and a few days ago he voiced the opinion that most people look like they could survive just fine if you dropped them in the middle of a forest with no campsite within 10 miles. He has a point. In terms of appearance, a lot of folks out here give the impression of self-reliance, affinity with nature, and aversion to all things mainstream. Obviously Toby loves it. However, he also said later that he believes the two of us belong here.

Wait. The two of us? Meaning not just him, but me too? Where do I fit into this picture?! Wayward, grunge, and outdoorsy are all adjectives that do not describe me. My favorite places in the world are drenched with sun. As far as I was concerned, L.A. was perfection. Year-round dry heat and sun every day. It also had my two other favorite things, crazy awesome food and dancing. A typical good day in L.A. for me would probably go something like this: awaken to a room already brimming with sunshine, shower, cursory towel wipe down and leave the rest to air dry. Listen to the latin music streaming from my neighbors three houses down. Lunch of kimchee tacos from the Korean BBQ/Mexican food truck. Dance practice with the ballroom team. Dinner from the Indian restaurant down the block. Get all dressed up and go salsa dancing until 2AM, then get some late night Chinese or Mexican. I feel like I'd have to undergo some serious changes to actually belong here. I don't know if Toby is hopeful or delusional, but I think it's a stretch to make that statement this early in the game.