The steps of a giant

It almost doesn't seem real to me that I no longer live on Figueroa Street. Today was my last official day at The Little Apartment in The Big Yellow House (or at least the last day that was paid for!). And it felt strange. I've spent exactly 7 years in that house (I just figured this out today and think it's so ironic!) and I kept trying to imagine what the apartment would look like empty.

My head was spinning the last few days with mental lists of things that needed to get done, items to be boxed, items to be saved, and what I should keep with me for the next 30 days. It was almost overwhelming, except for the fact that my brain and body seemed to switch into full speed GO mode all of the sudden. I'm not one to consistently use my gym membership. So, I have no idea where that extra amount of energy and focus came from. Let's just call it miraculous. Or half miraculous, as now every single one of my muscles hurt, as if I was the one that moved all that heavy furniture down the flight of stairs.

Yeah, right!

Anyway, back to the apartment: I kept trying to picture what it looked like when I had first moved in. Where had I originally put things? What did I do on my first day there? What did this room look like before I added a bunch of furniture and things to it? All I knew for certain was that the color of that brownish carpet had once been off-white.

It's both funny and disgusting.

After my dad and the truck, full of things that define the last 7 years of my life, pulled away from The Big Yellow House, I just stood in The Little Apartment for what felt like 20 minutes. Although it was probably only 5 minutes. I just stood there and let the memory of what that room and I looked like 7 years ago hit me like a hammer. I was so young then, moving into my own place, with just a handful of new friends at the time, and trying to be brave about all the new steps I was about to take. And then a thought popped into my head: If I could magically snap my fingers and have my "old life" back, everything back in its place, would I do it? Is this something I want anymore? And I decided no. And then I heard a little voice in my head tell me my time there was finished. (I was done!) And wasn't that so much better than still being in a waiting period?

My whole time in that house has been a time of growing up, but it was also a time of waiting. Longest time of waiting I've ever had! And I can't fully describe how I always knew that I was waiting, but I always knew it. There was never a time in that house where I felt like I was moving forward at leaps and bounds. It was always baby steps. Until now. Now I can barely keep up with what feels like the steps of a giant.

Ode to The Little Apartment in The Big Yellow House

Tonight I came face to face with The Move. It was the first night that I actually had time to put things in boxes and thoughtfully decide which pieces would be each others moving buddy. I thought I would maybe crumble under the emotion of boxing up all my stuff (or at the very least tear up), but I was oddly calm. And the rhythm of dropping things in a box, folding the flaps together and stretching out the clear plastic tape over the top to seal up all my belongings was peaceful. It was the same feeling I have when I'm out surfing and just resting on my board in between sets, feeling the rise and fall of the waves as they make their way toward the shore.

It just felt right. And I've only had that feeling a few times in my life where a situation felt wholly and completely right. One of those times was the day I stepped into my current apartment 7 years ago. I knew I would live here for a long time before the real estate guy uttered a single word. And this apartment...well, it's been a big part of my life, much like the way a city or place is a big part of a story. This apartment, with its ridiculous idiosyncrasies, has been more important to me than the things in it. And I don't know that I truly realized that until tonight. It wasn't the stuff that tugged on my heart strings; it was the room that held it all.

Looking back, there has been more activity in this room than a metro station. I've had good news and bad news delivered to me here, mistakes and accomplishments made, survived earthquakes and had plenty of crazy times and good times in this room. I've had good neighbors, bad neighbors, weird neighbors and the sound of sirens surrounding this place non-stop. I've cried in this room more times than I can count and laughed more times than I've cried. And it seems so silly to be all mishugina over a room! Four walls, a few windows and a roof. But I've lived life in this place.

I grew up here.

Sick, sad addictions

(This one is just for you, Nelly!)

I'm going to take a break from the list making as my various lists seem to be spiraling out of control lately. Sometimes they go from being all important lists to being silly and about things that will never happen and don't matter anyway....like dusting. 

Instead, I will tell you about my current addiction. Well, two addictions really: the new iphone that has smuggled a spot in my heart and chicken curry. I now have a sick, sad addiction to chicken curry. Chicken curry salad from Panino's. Yellow chicken curry from Your Choice Thai. Cold chicken curry from Cantwell's. If loving chicken curry is wrong then, baby, I don't wanna be right!

As for the iphone, it's an addiction that may never stop. Eventually I will tire of chicken or curry, but the iphone will forever have a place in my heart. (Especially since it makes my blackberry seem completely useless. Like a sixth finger.) It's THE toy for grown-ups. Or anyone for that matter! I just love saying, "There's an app for that!" As I said to a friend tonight, it just rolls off the tongue. Can't help but say those five little words whenever possible. And as my other friend said to me tonight (when I started to ignore her), "My entrails are on the floor here and you're on your iphone!"

I used to ignore people or duck out of a conversation for an important text or phone call and now... Well, now, I'm a hopeless case. I can't stop looking at my phone. It's so shiny, pretty. Call me crazy, but I swear it whispers to me.

This can't be good.

Listlessly making lists

Lists seems to be the theme this week. Making lists and crossing things off old ones. My grandmother is a big list maker. And when I say big, I mean she has about a hundred sticky notes all over her kitchen counter and phone with lists of things to get done or notes to herself. I've become just like her in that respect. (Actually, I am very much like her. Period.)

Anyway, back to said lists. I realized today that I accomplished a lot of things last year. Some things were voluntarily tackled and others came into my life, were experienced/explored and finished themselves.

Vague, I know.

The lists of late have been about things to get done before moving (what else...), but what's been circling my brain lately is a bit more "big picture":

Every year I make a list of things I want to do or accomplish or experience and last month I sat down and took a look at my list for 2009 and was pleasantly surprised that I had done just about everything I had set out to do. So, the habit has been to look at the previous year's list and decide if any unfinished business makes it on to the new year's list and what else I should add. But this year I only wrote down four things.

Could it be that I've become lower maintenance?!

I'm not going to tell you all four of those things (hate to ruin the possible surprises!), but one was about traveling. And today I got to thinking that I wasn't dreaming big enough. Seeing Chicago is such a small thing for me to list when while I've been so many places, I still have so many yet to see! I must have still been in my funk from the previous post. (If you were here right now you would see me rolling my eyes at myself.)

So, the question now is how do I push myself to dream bigger? Where do I really want to go? And what do I really want to do? The pressure of buying a house right this second is off. So is the slight pressure of finding a place to rent right away. And since I'm about to be completely free of everything (bills, debt, etc) now is the perfect time for me to figure out those bigger dreams and push myself toward something great.

The bare necessities

I've been trying to compile a mental list of things that are absolutely necessary to have day-to-day. And at the very least, what will be important for me to lug around for the next two months as I will be somewhat homeless. (And did I mention how I am half intrigued, half irritated at the thought of being without a permanent residence? The jury is still out on this one...)

Here's a half-assed list that I have compiled thus far:

• clothes and bathroom stuff (Weird fact: floss is always secretly at the top of my list of things I would want if I were stranded on a deserted island.)
• water bottle (I'm really particular about this one glass water bottle I have. It's glass. It's just cool. Just because I'll be homeless doesn't mean my cool points have to go down.)
• laptop (This would be like me trying to live without my right arm. Life would suck.)
• camera gear (It's the bread and butter. It's a must.)
• couple of books (This includes my Bible. I barely make it on a daily basis with it. The thought of trying to get through life without it is about as appealing as moving to Bakersfield.)
• cell phone and ipod (Although, the ipod isn't all that vital.)

I'm looking around my apartment while I type this and I'm not really seeing a bunch of stuff I couldn't live without; two months or otherwise. The prospect of dumping a bunch of extra crap for awhile is so freeing. Every time I get rid of something I always feel as though I can breathe a little deeper. Although, I still have this nagging feeling that I'm leaving something off the list. And you know it's most likely something totally stupid, but pertinent....like underwear.

Can't see the forest for all these damn trees!

I had a break-through on Sunday. A mental break-through. I realized I have been approaching my impending move date in entirely the wrong manner. It was depressing me and I haven't even boxed up so much as a paper clip! I was beginning to dread this move so much that at one point I think I had a passing thought that sounded something like this:  

"Well, I guess I'll just get up there and then in a couple years I'll die or wither away...or something."

Like, I'm....what?! A houseplant? No, no, no! I've been coming at this move all wrong! This isn't the end. This is the middle. Another beginning, somewhere in the middle. I've had new beginnings in the middle before and not a single one of them was regrettable. Sure, I wish I had done some things differently, but nothing has been so disastrous or life altering that it was regrettable. Just like this move. This move will not cause my world to implode. It will just be another thing I try...somewhere in the middle.

And don't even get me started on how I had worked myself up into a funk so bad that I was sweating turning 30! Which isn't even close, yet. But it's out there! (Thank you, Sally Albright.)

(This was me two days ago.)

I have since come to realize that this move is probably way more exciting than I originally thought. And could quite possibly be my ticket to....anywhere! I'm dumping my stuff with my parents for a little while. Rent free. Which means money I would normally be handing over to my current landlord is now sitting in my bank account.

Yipee!

Gimme a break!

So, it turns out that trying to buy a house in a town you don't live in yet is a little stressful. Very stressful, in fact. Enough to make this girl lose sleep. So, I decided to put the house-buying shenanigans on hold for now. Instead I will rent a sweet little cottage of sorts and buy myself fun things that in Santa Barbara would only be cute, but in NorCal will actually be functional. Like these rain boots I bought last night while continuing my soon-dying affair with Yogurtland (heartache).

 

And on that note, here's a little something I heard at Yogurtland tonight*:

Girl: "What are you doing?"
Guy: "Um. Nothing."
Girl: "Seriously, what is going on back there?"
Guy: "You had something on your shirt. Don't worry, I got it."
Me: "He just put a 'Kick Me' sign on your shirt."
Girl: "Hahaha! Oh brother! Seriously, do I have bird poop on there or something?!"

Who says these things? Honestly! I was just being kitchy and this chick just took it to the gutter.

*Claimer (as opposed to a disclaimer): Yes, I am at Yogurtland almost every night of the week. I'll be looking for a 12 step program when I no longer live within 30 miles of Japanese-infused fro-yo.

Ch-Ch-Changes

"People are always saying that change is a good thing. But all they're really saying is that something you didn't want to happen at all...has happened." - You've Got Mail

Ok. So, in a perfect world I move to the next place on my life map and all my friends move with me. In real life I move to the next place I'm supposed to be and nobody follows. Not a single person. And my life changes drastically. Quite possibly for the better. And things that I didn't expect to have happen will happen. Things I probably could never have thought up, dreamed about or anticipated while living in Santa Barbara.

So, here's a little encouragement for all my friends who are moving to far away places, just like me, and are wondering if the next step will be as great as they are hoping:

"Change in all things is sweet." - Aristotle

You don't say...

Ok. So, I had a bunch of photos I was planning on posting, showing all the cute little places I looked at last week, but the truth is the "cute little places" looked so much cuter online than they ever will be in real life. Unfortunate. Also, a little depressing when I'm already dragging my feet about moving up there.

So, instead I will post all the funny things I've heard around the lake recently.

Me: Do you smell that?
Friend: Yeah...what is that?
Me: I think we just hit a sku--
Friend: Good lord! Did we run over a drunk or something?!

Me: If you have a cold you should try using Dad's netty pot.
Mom: I hate that thing. I've never used it.
Me: (laughing)
Mom (as she squirts Afrin up her nose): I don't like putting fluids up my nose.

Friend 1 (opening gift): Oooh! I love it! You know this company uses all recycled materials. They're so great....very earth-conscious.
Friend 2: Wow....that IS cool.
Friend 3: (says something about WalMart)
Friend 2: Don't get her started about WalMart!
Friend 1: Yeah, I'm boycotting them! They've stopped giving out plastic bags and make you use reusable ones!


Ok. Ok. One little picture! This is the house I think would be really fun to buy soon and decorate with all things Anthropologie! (Too bad it's got serious roofing/mold issues...)