pack it in.

September 21, 2017

hammock plant

10 thoughts while packing for the next big move:

  1. where the hell did i get that and why don’t i use it? [literally, no memory. socks, Halloween masks, candles, books, random objects in my desk, scarves…a flag?? good lord you would think i am a hoarder. and then, i finish moving, i unpack, i start cooking my first meal in my brand new kitchen…and i need a can opener. where’s the can opener? do i not own a can opener? fuck, i think i threw out the can opener. never the right amount of stuff.]
  2. who am i going to talk to when i get home? [i have said it before; i love my alone time. it is precious to me. however, yay for a roommate! there is nothing like coming home to a friend who wants to hear how you are and laugh with you about the crazy shit you bumped into in the real world that day. no way i’m not going to miss that.]
  3. why did i get rid of ALL of my furniture the last time? [did i really think that i could afford to buy everything all over again all at once? i think i temporarily lost my mind. temporarily. entirely.]
  4. how long will it take for me to get to know my neighborhood? [you know that feeling… when you suddenly realize that you haven’t been paying attention to driving for 20 minutes and you know your neighborhood so well you feel that ever-so-dangerous autopilot mode kick in. going to try and enjoy those first few weeks of feeling lost and exploring all of the time.]
  5. i wonder what the men are like in this neighborhood. [i am moving to a college neighborhood. so…lots of easy choices but uh-oh. this is no good. maybe i’ll stay in and extra enjoy my alone time for awhile.]
  6. am i fucking crazy to do this? [everything is so, so comfortable. i live in a clean, beautiful home with a person who loves me and a safe neighborhood with hiking and bars. i’m living the American dream. and then, i keep thinking… my own space, my own stuff, my own me with nothing else to lean on… that’s beautiful too. gotta do this delightful thing, even if it’s crazy.]
  7. what if i got rid of everything except my bed? [i was packing a wine glass i haven’t used in 3 years and “just a bed” came to mind. just a bed. that’s odd. or maybe a hammock. a hammock and some plants and that’s all. i think i’m brilliant.]
  8. do i remember how to fix anything? [i’ve been living with a doer. a lady who looks at something broken and just…fixes it. not sure if this is genetic or taught, but i ducked and missed somewhere along the way and i just don’t have it. so curious to see if i remember how to do anything handy all by lonesome. adventure!]
  9. will this be the last one in los angeles? [i cannot help but wonder. should i make a big red X on the calendar for every day i get to spend paying attention to me, myself and i? will this be the last time i get to treat and indulge in self care as we all should, or will this be my forever? the joy is actually found in the unknown, but i really am fond of asking the questions.]
  10. why is bubble wrap so expensive? [dude. it’s ridiculous. is bubble wrap actually shit from a Prince’s gold filled ass? i just spent $22 on a noisy piece of plastic that will roll around approximately 9 water glasses. ugh.]

moving on up and down.

August 17, 2012

5 things that truly suck about moving:

1. reality check. [that moment when you’re falling asleep at your desk from searching online and suddenly sit back and sigh. you’ve never had such a distinct view of how much money you make and how incongruent that is to where you’d really love to live.]

2. the reasoning. [the decision process of the “where” can be funny. it’s become the most indecisive thing in my life lately. should i pick a neighborhood based on friends, work, dating, money, weather…or simply go with a street where i’m 94% sure i won’t get shot?]

3. thinking. [thinking about packing, thinking about what i need and don’t need, thinking about the timing of it all, thinking about which sites to use and pay for and how much to just drive around and see what i find that way, thinking about how much to think about it all. exhaustion. i’d rather just hang my bed from a tree and call it a day.]

4. work with no pay. [it’s a full time job looking for a new home. i’m aware that if i really want to find the perfect place i’d better be searching every day, several times per day using multiple search avenues. i have a full time job that often exceeds 40 hours a week. i want my finding-a-new-home-that’s-taking-up-all-of-my-time-and-sanity stipend.]

5. the empty bank account. [between the movers and the first & last down (or downpayment if you’re actually buying something which most likely means you don’t live in LA) and the new piece of furniture that you just had to have because you have a new nook that looks way too empty and the new cable setup fees and the huge grocery store trip that was necessary to fill your empty fridge…poor little bank account is crying out for help but nobody’s home.]

5 things that are truly awesome about moving:

1. clean slate. [i lovingly anticipate the purge that happens with every move. that day i decide to go through my drawers and throw out garbage bags full of clothes i never wear and dishes that have a crack and paperwork i’ll never need because i know in my heart i’ll never get audited. moving is the one and only time i become the minimalist i truly long to be.]

2. clean slate part deux. [a new home is perfectly spotless. there’s no cat hair floating around, no stains on anything yet. new windows, new paint, new locks, new neighbors, new address, new possibilities…new life.]

3. exploring. [there is this great month or two right after moving where walking around your new neighborhood seems like Disneyland. when every bar might be your next favorite dive. when every park is a new place to workout or have a picnic. when every neighbor might be the newest addition to your L.A. family. my advice: buy a beach cruiser and make your next exploration even cooler.]

4. housewarming. [everybody loves a good party but there’s nothing like the housewarming kind. your friends drool over that spotless granite kitchen countertop while you play the role of host and use your new bar to pretend you’re in an episode of Mad Men. this is simply what you always do on a Saturday afternoon. cocktails flow, people compliment, and pride abounds.]

5. things find their place. [i’m smiling just thinking about the process of looking around an empty home and picturing where everything will go that will make me the happiest. feng shui books get opened for the first time in years and there’s great joy in moving that furniture around and around until i’m absolutely positive that everything, including me, has found its perfect place.]