It’s 9:30 on Friday morning, and I’m sitting outside listening to the birds’ chirm on top of Matt Nathanson in the background. It is cool outside, the sky is the perfect shade of blue, and there isn’t a cloud in sight. Had you told me one year ago, that today I’d be sitting in California in the backyard of someone I love so much, I would have laughed. I would have cracked up, and called you crazy.
I’ve been wanting to blog so badly lately. Each time I sit down I have a million thoughts racing through my head, but I can’t seem to get them to the digital piece of paper. Here is my final attempt to get all of this off my chest. … … (Forgive my rambles, rants, and disorganized chaos.)
A year… I can’t believe it’s gone. There are so many “ year” marks going on my life, I find it so joyous! I feel like I’ve said that statement, 1 million plus times. I just keep standing awe, but I better get moving before the next year passes me.
In an attempt to say something different that past entries, I’ll start here.
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I’m moving… I once thought I’d like to be that independent girl who did it on her own (I’ll always be the girl that made it from scratch.). Who wanted to be “selfish” but only ended up being selfless and rather tired. I use to dream that I’d live alone, and am the epitome of independent, do-it-yourself, woman. However I realize … those were just were only daydreams, and this is how reality is playing out.
I’m moving…
I’m not moving to the neighboring city where all the 20 something’s go after they’ve left home. (Whom am I fooling, that’d be too normal!)
I’m not moving to the Big Apple where I once thought I wanted to starve and teach under privileged children. (Whom am I fooling, that’d kill my parents)
I’m not moving to the beach where I run when the world seems to be too much. (No never, that would be to close to understandable)
I’m not moving around the corner to establish my independence from my family. (Ha- that’d be too easy!)
I’m moving 3,000 miles to be with the love of my life, I’m moving to be with the handsome groomsman who stole my east coast heart, and took it to the west coast.
I’m moving to C A L I F O R N I A.
This big life change is scheduled to happen after my finals days at the North Carolina shore in mid-late August ( I am announcing that so you can mark it tentatively in your calendars! HA! )
If I kept this post filled with sentimental blurbs, I may lose followers. And since I’m horrible at updating. I’ll bring in the humor. My boyfriend is great, wonderful, amazing, sexy, intelligent, kind, and funny (go ahead friends, vomit that I’m becoming THAT girl)…. BUT sometimes his sense of style sucks. You will have to stay tuned as we do a “trading spaces” over the next few months. We’re going to trade single nick to committed nick. Transformations include: the industry size kitchen trashcan, the all-natural rock table, the rags to bath towels, and many more!
While I’m preparing to move, forgive me I may get emotional. I may cry over one glass of wine instead of crying over many bottles. To my friends, and followers it’s because of you that I’m in the place I am today. It’s because you stood behind me telling me to seek happiness that I can take this leap of faith. Because you helped me dare to dream, I can now dare to live.
I love each and every one of you. I’ll continue to cherish the moments we have as neighbors. But please know that mileage will not separate our hearts. Please forgive me ahead of time if I tell you this when you're not prepared. Or if you find a card on your door step with smudge marks, it's because I can't let the moment wait till tomorrow to you how much you mean to me. You’ll always be my friends (you'll most likely always know my dark secrets, and know me best), and my door will always be open. And if you find yourself 3 hours ahead of me, lost, confused, over-joyed, scared, ecstatic, or complacent you can call at any hour, our friendship knows no time difference.
Meet me in California.
