Week One of Nomadhood

In which I try Iraqi food, climb a tree, and take two trains, several buses, and a ferry

I am officially a nomad now, which feels . . . surreal but amazing. I’ve only had the plan to do this whole thing for a couple of months, and there were a few hiccups along the way, so it’s really exciting that I’m finally doing it!

For those of you who don’t know me too well, let me explain what all of this is about.

Until last week, I was living in the mid-Willamette Valley in Oregon. But the reason
I was living there is that my ex-husband’s family lives there. Notice that ex in front of the word husband?

I’ve been divorced for about six months now, and I was really struggling with whether to stay in Corvallis, a lovely town with free buses and lots to do, surrounded by mountains and forest and quite close to the coast.

Or move somewhere else.

I liked the idea of staying in Corvallis. I like Corvallis. But the fact of the matter is that it wasn’t my choice to move there. And literally everywhere I’ve ever lived has been someone else’s choice. We moved around a few times when I was a kid, which was obviously my parents’ decision. And when I was 28, yes, I decided I wanted to move to the Pacific Northwest, but the ultimate decision to move to Portland in particular was because the person I was living with at the time had family there.

After I broke things off with that person and started dating my future ex-husband, he wanted to move to Albany. Sure, I decided to move to Corvallis, the next town over, when we split, but that was mostly because that’s where my day job was.

So, I was sort of leaning towards moving somewhere else. But then anywhere I move to . . . is it because I really want to live there or is because I don’t want to live in Corvallis. And if the reason for that is SOLELY because I want to get away from my ex, isn’t he still dictating where I live?

So, I settled on the secret third option: go entirely feral and start traveling full-time.

So a week and a half ago was the last day at my day job, and I hopped on a train to Portland, hung around there for a few days, writing and being free. I climbed a tree on Mount Tabor, which is an extinct volcano. Evidence below. Did you know that it’s really hard to take a selfie in a tree in a way that actually looks like you are IN the tree and not just leaning against it or something? I think I managed. I promise — I was actually in the tree.

I also tried Iraqi food, which I’d never had, and I was surprised how different it was from other Middle Eastern food. I don’t have any photographic evidence, but I do recommend.

Then I slung books at Rose City Comic Con all weekend, hopped on another train to Seattle, and I’m now staying with my grandpa for a few days, which is . . . challenging. I almost wish I had just skipped Seattle and headed straight to St. Louis, which is where I’m going next.

That said, I’m currently sitting with my dog next to a fountain on a hill in downtown Seattle overlooking the Sound, and I feel very free.