a brand-new start

Yesterday was my birthday. Good-bye 23, hello 24. I’m at home with my family in Kansas City, right now. We had cake and coffee and I opened a few presents. A bit different than the past four (five?) birthdays I’ve spent in Des Moines. (Funny those college and post-college birthdays became more normal than those with the fam, you know?)

Anywho, 24 promises to be interesting. After all, I’m moving from (er, have already moved from) Des Moines to Portland, Oregon. I’m just spending time with my family in KC ‘til I fly out on Saturday. Then Monday, I start a new job at a start-up home/interior design magazine.

I spent four years at Meredith. They treated me very very well (and I’m not just saying that because they might be reading this). I clocked in three years at Country Home magazine. I had an entire front-of-book department credited to me, plus my own blog. I chose stories, got them photographed, wrote them, and edited the entire section. I dabbled in the feature well. Producing credit? Check. Writing? Yup. Editing? Photo shoots? A bit o’ styling? Check, check, check. I got a ton of experience right out of college. I can't complain at all.

But, I was getting super antsy. Days went by that I realized I was writing the same ol’ stuff each month, and my mind would wander to why I went into journalism in the first place. To write about home decorating or to be the next Sy Hersh? Or somewhere in between? And at 23, had I already sold out to some extent? And yes, I loved it, but I was growing tired of Des Moines, too. I just felt a calling to do something else.

I’d been to Portland only a couple of times before, most recently last summer for a press junket for work. I fell in love. It was so ME. So, when I saw an open position for this regional magazine on my Mediabistro job alerts, I applied that day. Wrote the cover letter, flew to Massachusetts for another work trip, and mailed the packet of information, thinking there was no chance on God’s green earth that I’d get the job. I don’t live in Portland! They’ll laugh at this Kansas/Iowa hybrid for her naivete!

Needless to say, when the editor called me for an interview, I was thrilled. I prepared a ton. I studied up on Portland like I was cramming for the next day’s mid-term. He called, we chatted, and I thought--all things considered--it went pretty well. Then, I got a second interview. Then, I flew out for a third interview. It was while I was on the plane that I had a come-to-Jesus talk with myself: If you get this job, hotshot, are you really ready to move to Portland? Are you ready to leave your cushy job at Meredith to work for a start-up magazine? Are you giving up on your dream to go back to New York? Wait, is that really your dream or just what you thought you were supposed to do? Huh? Figure it out!

I answered none of those questions on the plane ride (and I still haven’t, fully). I just continued to cram as though I was being tested (I tend to over prepare) and did the best I could at my all-day interview. At the end of the day, I got the job.

Giving my notice at Country Home was the hardest thing I’ve had to do, professionally. I had a great group of co-workers, mentors, and friends there. But I’ve burned no bridges and left on the terms of, “If the magazine folds, which we hope it won't, we suppose you can come back, wink, wink,” which is always comforting, I suppose.

I’m flying out Saturday. My cute apartment in Des Moines is all packed up and on its contents are on their way to Portland (I hope). I have an Aerobed waiting for me until all my furniture (and books and magazines and CDs and DVDs and artwork and every other worldly possession) arrives. It feels pretty darn good to start my 24th year on a brand-spanking-new note. I guess I essentially answered all my lingering questions when I bought the one-way ticket out west, huh? Wish me luck!