I am ready for the cold. Tired of the California heat, and these fall 90s, while my sweater dresses wait in clear sterlite storage containers. I am born and bred in the heat of summer: an August baby searching for December snow. Once I saw snow, while visiting Lake Arrowhead. Well, it wasn’t snow, it was the slush that use to be snow. The slush that was melting over lawns that looked like someone had simply thrown party ice out.
I want to move, somewhere where that isn’t California. Surely isn’t Long Beach. But my life is here. My mortgage is here. My job is here. My bills are here. The things that I care for are here. But I can take what I care for most with me. At least I believe I can.
The truth is I do not want to be here in 3 years. I want to be elsewhere, and to get there I have to start from here. Well from here and North Carolina.
The good news, I made it into a MFA program. Well, not just a MFA program but a top 10 according to all the lists, Queens University in North Carolina (Charlotte). I only applied to Queens, though I was interested in Forest Grove (Oregon) if Queens said no, they were my next effort. But I want a strong workshop program and like-minded souls and those who have graduated Queens could only praise the school.
I am fortunate, perhaps talented, and most definitely in debt. But in 3 years, I’ll be in debt elsewhere. . .I hope.