Counting Up in Seattle

Allow me to brush away the cobwebs from my pixels and from my memories.

On June 26, 2006, I arrived in Seattle and was instantly lost. Literally, I was lost. I could not find my way around the city for the life of me. Ten days prior, I had completed my final day of work at Harvey Mudd College and then spent the next week packing up all my worldly belongings. I was absolutely terrified: my house in Claremont was still unsold and I had no job. But still I drove north through San Francisco and Ashland and Hood River and finally reached my new home.

I spent my first five days in Seattle somewhat painfully, getting my bearings while at the same time trying to find an apartment. All the while, I ran marathon workouts despite no consistent place to shower or cook meals. I found a place eventually, just in time before Potlatch weekend, and Brooke proved correct in claiming that I could make a living as a web developer. And the house in Claremont sold, offering hard cash to burn through as I got my life in order. But still, what the heck was I thinking?

Well, I have a fairly strong grasp of my thoughts and feelings at the time, but such is not my topic (at least tonight). Regardless, here I am, three years later, still alive and still in Seattle. What more can I say? Everything and nothing. We'll see what comes out as this and other arbitrary anniversaries roll on through my mind.