So, Tumblr tells me that this blog turned 4 today. Time flies. And apparently, it flies in a circle, because I’m about to rededicate myself to blogging for the reason I started Action Is Character in 2010: to build a library of online writing samples as I search for a content/editing job in San Francisco. Wish me luck!
Spoiler Alert: It’s San Francisco. But only if you tally it as a percentage of what men earn.
You see, as President Obama pointed out in his State of the Union address, the wage gap in this country is “an embarrassment.” Women earn, on average, 77 cents for every dollar a man earns. Today, in 2014. That sucks.
So woohoo! We women of San Francisco pull in a median salary of $54,600 and make 84 cents for every dollar that our male colleagues make for doing the same work.
Compare that to our Bay Area neighbor San Jose, where the median salary is $1,400 higher, but women make just 70 percent of what men do. Looks like I have yet another reason to confine my job search to San Francisco.
Few cities in the U.S. embody the growing divide between rich and poor quite like New York and San Francisco. In just the past 20 years, both have changed from economically diverse melting pots to exclusive playgrounds for the rich.
The saddest thing about this is that the darkest red—or “rich”—areas represent households with an annual income of $75,000 per year or more. That’s hardly what I would call rich, especially when you consider that it supposedly takes $84,133 per year for a family of four to live “comfortably” in SF.
Christmas in the Mission. We had to stop for a photo with Santa the Hut.
I spent the long Labor Day weekend in Portland. It’s a quick flight and the tickets were cheap. It was between there and Seattle—something I imagine those cities hear a lot.
Portland is like San Francisco without a tech industry. The cuisine is local and seasonal. People seem to believe, despite evidence to the contrary, that public transit is a viable option. But it’s more affordable and, perhaps as a result, the hipsters are far more earnest.
Since moving to San Francisco I’ve heard epic tales of champagne-fueled oyster shucking parties in the picnic grounds at the Tomales Bay Oyster Co. in Marin. I finally made it up there, and it was worth the wait. I learned I like oysters—I even learned how to shuck them.