The Best Laid Plans of Cats and Women...

...aka The Great Moving Plan Post.

Been thinking a surprising bit about this the past few days (and writing up this post bit by bit over the past few days too), possibly spurred by randomly browsing my bank's website, surveying the possibility of a money market account, and feeding numbers into one of those little savings widget things (according to which, for the record, I could have thirty-six-hundred-something dollars in six months or so, assuming I religiously save a hundred a week of my paycheck (which is kinda hard when I get a hundred and nine x.x) and don't have any secondary income or raises (which I might if I get off my ass and start listing huge stacks of books on Amazon, for example).)

Of course there are pretty much two Great Moving Plans, both of which kinda break down after a certain point. They are as follows:

The Boston Plan:
1. Get my license.
2. Oh, and save some more money.
3. Get a job in the city.
4. Save money from that job, too.
5. Organize and pack up all my shit.
6. Move...somewhere...out... *sound of plan sputtering and dying*

The WTF-I-Wanna-Go-Somewhere-New Plan:
1. Save like crazy.
2. Save some more.
3. If I were conventionally attractive, I would do porn to save.
4. Get my license somewhere in there too. I'll have time. It'll be a while.
5. Decide and research the city I'm going to.
6. Craigslist is my friend...right?
7. Organize and pack up a small and exceedingly portable portion of my shit.
8. Go to said city. I don't know how. The car's really small.
9. Somehow find a job...and an apartment...before I starve in the streets... *sound of plan flailing and gurgling in the gutter*

Now at the moment I'm kinda leaning towards the Boston Plan, not just because it has more steps which depend upon something other than blind luck and not getting fired by Tatnuck, but because I'm finally, just now, starting to feel like I have more than one friend in this area, and the thought of turning around and moving out on that depresses me. And I've always liked Boston, and liked the community that's there--it's just hard being a part of it while in the far suburbs with no car.

So the Boston Plan, working through the steps mostly for my own benefit. Each section cut for length, swearing, and random rantiness, sometimes tangential.

( Baby can I drive MY car? )

( But I WANT to be the kind of girl who lays eggs! )

( Careering For Dummies. )

( Tamgao, tamago, watashi no tamago... )

( Embarassingly large stacks of shit! )

( In which our hero runs flailing off a cliff. )

The more I think about all this and the more time I spend hashing out the details of the Boston Plan, the more I think I don't want to move out after all, at least not within the year. Travel, yes. Perhaps move elsewhere after I've been in Boston for a few years. But right now? I want to stay in MA, just closer to civilization. So the long rambles I'd originally planned attempting to compare the three and a half cities I've been considering moving to--Seattle, Minneapolis, Milwaukee, and teh Bay Area--are not going to get written up, at least today. The plan is the Boston Plan. At least here I know what I'm doing.

All Plans aside, I fell off the face of the internet again, and I apologize. :/ Will try to climb back up; I think belated comment responses are in order. Except first I have to survive the five-hour-long dress rehearsal of the boring and unfunny Purim Spiel with the sickeningly incompetent director, which I am looking forward to only slightly more than a root canal.

*sound of head banging against synagogue wall*

But hey, if I'm moved out in a year, nobody'll make me do it next time!

( Something else I've noticed about this plan--emo warning. )

(no subject)

...goddamnit, hopechan made me crave bubble tea. And there's no bubble tea for at least thirty miles--that's assuming Boston has some. It must somewhere, right? I mean, it's Boston...

Every time I browse various BDSM sites, I want to move to Seattle. It seems like they have the most overflowingly productive and joyful kinkster community evah.

*googles*

Score! (Note for the wary: link has everything to do with bubble tea and nothing to do with kinky sex, unless of course you think the two are connected.)

In the past twenty-four hours, I've learned that I fail at knitting lace, my Law & Order obsession is waning, and I look bad in pastels.

I will shortly be the proud owner (albeit illegally) of more Blue Öyster Cult.

I believe that is all.