new town | Grace Makley

I moved to Portland last week! Monday’s was a real quick post, so here are more details on a few things.

The roommates:

I live with Brackett and Nevada. Remember Brackett? He’s a very old friend. He was also Brother’s college roommate for five years—and for part of those five years, Nevada rented the third bedroom in their apartment. She’s been living with with Brackett in Portland for the last year or so. The whole reason I was able to start thinking about moving was that, about a month ago, Brackett posted on Facebook that their third roommate had bailed, and they needed a new roommate for the beginning of May. Huh, thought I. I always liked Brackett’s apartment. Brackett and Nevada are awesome. I don’t really want to stay in this small town for another summer, and I’ve been looking for an out. This looks like an out. So I decided to move to Portland. It’s hard to find a place without a job, or a job without a place, but now that I had a place all set and decided upon, I could put all my energies toward job hunting.

The job:

Yes, I have one. Hurrah! It’s a part time gig driving a van around Portland and giving people rides to where they need to go, serving mostly the elderly and disabled. I can’t tell you much more about it yet because my first day of training isn’t until this Wednesday, on the 15th. I will say that, even though it’s part time, it has enough hours and good enough pay to get by on, although I may still be looking for some other very part time work on the side. Also it’s driving, which is fun, and I’ll be providing a worthwhile service to the city and probably meeting interesting people. I’m excited.

The haircut:

The desk:

This is a poem I wrote to my best friend, Lady Higg, in Sebtember of 2011. The poem was also written to fulfill an exercise in iambic pentameter, which explains the form and the few syllables I’ve left out of words. I’m posting it now because THIS WEEK, Lady Higg and her worthy consort, Dr. Longbottom, are in the process of moving to a new town. Here’s hoping everything goes well for both of them in their new digs!

Girl Talk

So here’s to coffee in the morning. Here’s

to vodka drained at night. Here’s to all

the useless chatter that surrounds and feeds

and bleeds our damn dry souls. It’s not real life,

we said, while sipping tea and laughing in

a morning-after fog. And then, today,

“They found a body in a garbage bag,

a minute from my house.” Say what?

You may have trumped my three a.m., just talk-

ing, walking, and then, you know, my Saturday:

the car on third, the buildings and the bush

we hid behind and waited for the drama

to unwind. “Never fall in love

with Katie Couric,” sang your myst’ry creep

at four. A light was on, and I was prob’ly

losing hope already for a day

without a headache. Well, and that’s just how

it goes. But still. They found a body in

a garbage bag a minute from your house.

So yeah.

I hope you find a new apartment soon.