I recently moved from Chicago to Seattle with my darling partner Josh. We arrived in August all enthusiasm, scoffing at our friends back in the Midwest who warned us of endless rain and bone-chilling west-coastedness. Counting myself lucky to land a job in the first week I was confident that Josh, a hard science nerd with career related work experience, would shortly succeed as well. We even got a puppy!
That very confidence is the reason eagerly ignore the fuckery that was to be my salary. Or should I say stipend. Graduated with honors, a double major, extensive extracurricular experience and a relatively interesting life story? Sure, sub minimum wage sounds about right. I drank the coolaid and took an Americorps position. Three months later Josh remains jobless. As I pinch every food stamp penny to get by and bike 14 miles daily to save on bus fare I've never missed my sexual harassment filled bar tending days more. Or college. Or home
I can write a blog about this this program. It would be terrible and bitter. What I can write about is food and frugality that defies the labels "bland", "unhealthy" and "McDonald's". I'll throw in my social justice two cents on occasion and muse about what all this makes me feel as a feminist. But I'll also throw down some vegan recipes, tips and tricks. A delicate balance between overly academic diatribes and delicious but poorly lit food photography.
So to review: Underpaid feminist vegan in Seattle seeks readers.
