Walk away, haters, it’s a retrospective post up in this mother fucka.
I just used my B.S. in communications to figure out that I have been living in Seattle for 730 days. Got off the plane sight unseen a few weeks after the Sub Pop Jubilee to become a temporary Loser interning with the immortally dank folks in the publicity HQ*.There, I was nurtured and grown like a plant kept well out of reach from a cat. Do not ASK me what kind of plant I am that is NOT why we’re here. Roll with this metaphor, por favor.
Watered by Rainier and fed by this city’s endless supply of street tacos and pizza by the slice from Rocco’s, I grew. I continue to grow. Growth is good unless it’s a dark spot on your shoulder and as your non-doctor but friend who reads shit on HuffPo I recommend you get that looked at. I dropped the word “just” from my vocabulary, and I’m currently switching out “maybe” with “definitely.” And “whiskey” to “whiskey side giant glass of water.” On the same side, I’ve learned to say no to things that I just have absolutely no time for, or at least can’t commit to at the time. Burning the candle at both ends caught up with me earlier this year.
In February of this year, I had a grand mal seizure. The cause was severe dehydration brought on by partying too hard and making bad #lifechoices and not taking care of myself the way I should have. My body reset itself, yelled at me to get my shit together and take charge of how my life was going to pan out. I’m lucky – I haven’t had another seizure and most likely won’t. I am forever thankful for my friends and family who helped me through that time.
My seizure, taught me to stop worrying. Coming out of that experience, I felt like there was no excuse for putting off what I really wanted to do. I started volunteering at KEXP. I got an internship at Do206, which led to a job that doesn’t feel like a job but a ragtag group of music nerds that love to get people to shows. Of course these things weren’t a direct result of me having a health scare but – you know – the fire has to get lit under your butt somehow.
There’s nothing wrong with not knowing what the hell you’re doing right now. I only kind of know. There hasn’t been a point in my time in Seattle that I thought “oh yeah, I have all of this figured out and everything is predictable and happening exactly the way it’s supposed to.” If that day ever came I’d be sad. The things I want consistently every day are food, at least a couple of people I know I can call if I fall in a manhole while sending a Snapchat, and something to look forward to. I’m forever grateful for the opportunities that I’ve had here and I can’t wait to rustle up some new projects this year.
*and not by coincidence this was 2013, the year a little-known football team called the Seattle Seahawks won the Superbowl. You’re welcome, and don’t ask me about this year.