Yes, that is an oblique Glee reference. Because I have recently become gleeked and I'm envisioning everyone in my quiet cubicle-ed office standing up and belting out some Britney song and it's endlessly entertaining to imagine.
There are, however, new things afoot. I have been offered (and have accepted) a position as an archaeologist at CH2M Hill. This job will entail much mapmaking, and very little archaeologizing. However, it's full-time, all year, paid vacation and benefits type work, so I'll take it, yessir. This will require relocating myself and my tiny mobile household to Richland, WA.
It's interesting to consider how my life decisions have led me to Richland. Particularly because Richland is the gateway to Hanford. My grandfather worked at Hanford since 1943 to later, maybe the 60's? And then my Dad, born in Colorado but raised in Richland, worked at Hanford in the 60's before getting a job with Boeing in Seattle. Now I will be the third generation of Clark to work at the Hanford site - cleaning up the mess that was created while my Grandad was working there. And living in the same town that my father grew up in. How strange, the ways that things work out.
I have memories of Richland. My Dad and Mom got divorced when I was very young (way too young to care). My Dad lived in Seattle and my Mom lived with us in Portland. My Dad, on the weekends, would drive down, pick us up and motor us over to Richland to spend time with his folks. This would involve hours of the "license plate game" and the "I spy" game. And endless explanations to my left-brained brother about how motors work, and how to make airplanes. Me? I was playing with dolls in the backseat.
Once we got to Richland, my Dad would tell us to play outside, pretty much all the time. My grandparents smoked, and he didn't want us staying in the house too long. We would get there, and Grandpa would be watching TV, while Grandma played zilch, which is still to this day my favorite dice game. They did that smoker's-cough thing, which freaked me out a little when I was young. I thought they would actually cough up a lung (too young to know that this was impossible).
So, once we had said our hello's and escaped outside, we would beeline for the gingko trees. These trees, well... in my memory they are very tall. Getting down once I'd gotten up... impossible. My brother had a lot of fun with that. Or, if the trees weren't magical enough that day, we would run across the street to the dike, tall and grassy on one side, rocky and treacherous on the other. Of course, the more dangerous the better - we would practice rock-hopping, running as fast as we could on the boulders down to the water and back up.
There is a shop in the Uptown shopping center called the Spudnut shop. I don't remember how they do it, but they make potato doughnuts. So good.
These memories and watching the movie Willow for the first 8 times are my only memories of Grandma and Grandpa's house. And Richland. Clearly, I'm going to have to form some type of adult opinion about this new place. Recently I have been having conversations with people about the trauma or joy of moving. It satisfies the itch to move on, to start something new, to explore. It also reminds me of why I keep returning to Portland. I like knowing where the streets are. Not being able to get lost, because I'm always oriented. Mountains on one side, ocean on the other. I like being close enough to visit my Aunt's house to do laundry so I don't have to pay for it. I like the comfort of knowing if I hurt myself or get super sick, my family will bring me soup. It's a comforting feeling, being close to people that love me.
At the same time, this is the first chance I have had to really pursue something akin to a career. Have a real job. Pay into a retirement plan. Save up some money for a rainy day. Finally fix the broken glove box in my car that hasn't opened in 2 years. Not panic at the thought of any tiny catastrophe wiping out all my hard earned credit card payments. This is my chance. This is the open door, the opportunity knocking, the choice to pursue stability and financial security.
I will like this new / old town.
