Fuck It! I’m Moving to Portland.
Year two of Bikefag has seen me timidly peeking around my veil of snark and denigration to expose a tiny glimpse of my “real” self.
It’s sort of like I’m the Afghan girl from the National Geographic cover – except the Soviet Occupation of Afghanistan represents, in my case, the over-saturation of fixed-gear “bike hipster” culture. And the Pakistani refugee camp where the photo was taken represents the pracarious “freedom” I’ve found in “serious” cycling.
While Sherbat Gula is on the run from real danger, I am running from the spectre of “being uncool.”
Nevertheless, I think it’s necessary to step out from behind my wall of pretense, and “get real” with you.
I long to be free of the separateness from my fellow cyclist that has long plagued me. I dream of a land where I can be “one of the crowd” – but without having to sell all my ironic cycling kit; without really changing at all.
I want to “go home,” to a land where I’ve always belonged:
Don’t worry, reader. I realize that “moving to Portland” is “so 2006.” I understand that the competition for barista jobs is cut-throat; and that “being able to make a rosetta” is the Portland barista equivalent of executing a shaky trackstand on a brand new Urban Outfitters “fixie.” I realize that the cyclocross field sizes are astronomical, reader. That the “bike hipsters” quit fucking around years go and are all racing in the elite field now. And, most importantly, I’d like to confirm that I have seen the Portlandia trailer!
I accept that I’m a cliché for moving to Portland at this point, reader.
But you know what?
Fuck it! I’m moving to Portland anyway!
And really, apart from having to leave the “small pond,” and Portland’s terrible weather and the sting of being “too late in the game” of moving to the “coolest city in America” (which is now, of course, living half-time in Austin and half-time in Minneapolis) – other than that, there’s pretty much no reason why not to move to Portland.
It’s my favorite city in American, and I’ve pretty much been to them all.
Oh wait, there is one reason not to move to Portland:
I don’t have a job!
The general consensus among unmotivated liberal arts majors with insubstantial resumés is that “it’s impossible to get a job in Portland.”
But I can’t believe this. If you’re dogged enough, and willing to work a shitty enough job, you can always find employment. But an even better way to find a job, is to have friends.
Help me, reader!
If you or someone you know lives in Portland and can get me a job starting in April, please drop me a line. I have experience in the following fields:
-Lackey bitch work
I’m very good at everything I do, reader, and would certainly make a great ironic personal assistant.
Also, if you’re reading this and you’re the editor or publisher of a rust-belt mountain bike magazine or its sister publication, please hire me on staff before I do this! I don’t want to starve to death!
I figure that making an announcement like this on my blog can’t get me any less employed in Portland, so what the hell.
I call on you, beautiful rose people! Help a fellow bike fag out!