Staying Away in Seattle, Day 20: Home, sick

This is the mug that stares back at me every time I pick up my phone.

It never fails to cheer, but for the past few days, it’s also filled me with homesick longing.

There’s no question about it: Seattle is a great town. It feels about as warm and welcoming as a place could be. I’ve made scads of new acquaintances, reconnected with old ones and even run into a few random L.A. types also up here escaping the desert heat.

And this trip itself has been wildly invigorating and deeply gratifying. I’d come hoping for some perspective and was rewarded not only with that (and in spades), but absolute confirmation that direction I’ve come out of this year of wandering with is the right one.

No wonder this place has started to feel like home.

Today, though, for the first time, the pull to go home-home felt stronger than the desire to stay here. I don’t doubt that The BF having to cancel his plans to fly up, hang out, and drive back has something to do with it. We’ve been apart for a month today, and that’s too long for people who have some kind of choice in the matter.

I’m also fairly sure that actual sickness has something to do with it. I went to bed last night feeling not-great and woke up feeling even worse: a return of the exact same symptoms I had before starting this trip. That kind of symmetry I can do without.

When you’re physically low, a little sick, a little tired, a little cold, a little hot, whatever small thing you might be going through seems magnified. And when you’re a little homesick and a little sick into the mix? You miss your babies something fierce. Technically, I don’t have to vacate the Fabulous (Temporary) Bachelorette Pad until Monday. But given the circumstances, I’m cutting it short by a couple of days and heading back Saturday.

Wave to me on the I-5.

Oh, and wish me luck on my last day at home before I go home…



  1. It has been an amazing experience for us to peek in on your progress during Shake Things Up Tour ’08 (and of course, for me personally to discuss such things with you in the flesh over a bowl of pillowy mussels). Even though I was given a similar gift this year with my summer detour to NY, I have to say I’ve already fallen back into the same old same old (even though I’m in a new house and in a new neighborhood). How do we take the Shake Up with us as we go back to the comfy grooves? We discussed one answer: Regularly-scheduled mini-field trips.

  2. Knock ’em out, drive safe, don’t speed through the Salen to Eugene corridor. (bored troopers)

    Somewhere, right now, somebody is waving like an over-caffeinated Forest Gump on a highway overpass.

  3. It’s about time! But i can’t say that following your journey hasn’t been like the cracker jack prize – a little piece of unknown joy in the midst of sticky nuttiness. I have many nights in the past 3 weeks checked in to see if you might be having a moment of over-caffeinated 3am blogging just so i could get my prize.

    we who don’t have the nards to do what you’ve done salute you, C and thank you.

    As for the crud, Dayquill and Bushmill’s whiskey is my recommendation.
    see you very soon – have a safe and unchaotic journey & mucho love ~ Al

  4. Damn, C. —

    I would’ve flown up there and driven back with you. (That is, if you’d wanted the company.)

    Oh, well. Have fun and I’ll see you soon.


  5. Hope the trip home goes/went well. I finally clicked your website after seeing your communication on Kernspiracy for a while, and I am glad I did.

    Just from clicking around your site and reading your articles/stories/blogs, I feel awesome, and have more momentum to do what I gotta do. I’m 29, in my 5th year as a graphic designer. I’ve worked for a major newspaper, a tiny magazine, and now a tiny ad agency. Things haven’t gone how I thought they might, mostly because of fear and procrastination on my part.

    This year, I have learned some web stuff and designed my own website, decided to go after freelance projects and got them, decided to become active in the local ad club to meet people, forced an art director at a fancy ad agency to mentor me, met with recruiters, went on interviews and started a blog about all this crap.

    It’s been a year of forcing myself to do things that have been hard and uncomfortable to try and get where I want to be. Your “stop! sucking!” article REALLY said it all for me.

    I really admire you for everything you’ve accomplished, your writing and your sense of humor. Plus I just love seeing another glasses-wearing, brunette Virgo kicking some career ass. Keep up the good work!

  6. Alissa – YES on mini-field trips, as per discussion. (If we can re-discuss over more mussels, though, I’m down with that.)

    I know you know this, but I think the answer lies in continual pushing of the boundaries, specifically of one’s comfort zone. Also, in some kind of Actual Reality Accountability Group. We could use more of that in L.A.

    Mussels, too. Although on that, I have my doubts.

    Skegger – Here’s me, doin’ 55. Just like the law-abiders. Ossifer.

    Al – Thank you, dearie. Seattle is loverly, but I miss my L.A. peeps as well as my L.A. pup. I am heartily glad that I have not suffered wee-hours wakefulness, but I’ll do my best to keep a steady supply of mwah-haha in the pipeline, even after this 21-day salute is over.

    E. – Next time? We should plan and shit. If only to have the universe laugh at us, too.

    Dana – 29?! You’re a mere pup! Good for you for grabbing life by the nards, as our dear Al would say. Great things lie in wait for you. And thanks for the kind words.

  7. Yes, I’m a Bizniker, living on Anderson Island, a 20-minute ferry ride and a one-hour drive to Seattle.

    We enjoyed your visit to Seattle, though I didn’t have the chance to meet you.

    But I totally understand that pull. We go to New York for a conference every once in a while and our 16-year old, odd-eyed white Turkish Van cat ( who was a stray on death’s door) is on our mind every second.

    Your dog is precious. Our cat, and best friend, is on the home page of our first business’s website,

    Hope your visit to the Northwest was profitable in some way.


  8. Sorry I missed you, Judy. I met sooo many nice Biznikers on my trip–you’re really a welcoming bunch.

    Arnie did fine without me, but he acted excited enough upon my return to make me believe he missed me as much as I missed him.

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