I had a date night with my husband recently. We went to a restaurant we’d never been to, in a part of town we rarely visit. There was a house jazz band playing and the general din of many people gathered in one space. Our table was tucked off to the side, and obviously I’m biased but even so my husband seemed at the center of it all, the light and the noise gathered in a halo around him. We ate and drank and batted our eyelashes at each other. I am so lucky, I thought. I am so happy.
People love to ask me, “How’s married life?” And the truth is: it’s wonderful. It’s also exactly like unmarried life, except we have shiny new rings and new titles (and tax privileges). I married my best friend, the person I most want to talk to about anything and everything, the person whose face lights up even my worst days. How’s married life? Amazing. I am so lucky. I am so happy.
We’ve been in Seattle about a year and a half now, and we’re still getting to know the city. I like the slower paced, West coast vibe of this city. I like all the awkward, passionate weirdos we keep encountering around town. I love living in the shadow of mountains and smelling salt water on the air.
But Pittsburgh was home to me for ten years. So many of my formative moments happened there, happy and not. I can trace my history on the map there. I find little pockets of homesickness in unexpected places. The accent. The architecture. The skyline. I miss my friends. I miss being a few hours’ drive from my family.
So here we are, feeling out a new city, making a new community for ourselves, making a go at it. I know people move to new places all the time, leave everything behind to make a new life for themselves – but . I’m not glad we left, but I’m glad we took a chance and decided to try Seattle on for size. I’m glad most of all for my incredible co-pilot, who is home to me no matter our address.
Recently I finished Blindness by Jose Saramago – what a novel! Disturbing and haunting and beautiful and sad, just my cup of tea. I’d seen the movie with Julianne Moore ages and ages ago, but had never actually read the book for some reason. I’m sure it’s lovely in the original Spanish, but alas I don’t think I’m up for it. Another one for the “someday” list…