“The pipe upstairs broke. Water gushed through the ceiling into our open laptop.”
“It’s about 100 degrees in here. If we shut all the windows really quick we can get some AC out of the single vent in the bathroom.” “Ready, Set, Go!”
“Goldie the chicken has decided to roost in the garage.”
“I love our apartment and I love you!”
It’s hard to say goodbye to this quirky, funky little love nest of ours. I have literally moved once a year since I graduated college. That makes this my 6th move in as many years. Some were just to a different neighborhood, but others were bigger. Moving to San Diego was a big one. Moving out of my shared apartment with my ex was another. Moving to Vista, which is about 50 miles north of San Diego was the biggest one yet. It meant I was engaged (squeee!), but it also meant that I was giving up my wonderful neighborhood with bars, coffee shops, and culture for Taco Bells, 99 Cents stores, and hot weather. I was not excited about this part, but I knew that it meant I got to be with the man of my dreams, so I shut my mouth and moved north.
And you know what? It really turned out to be great. There is a wonderful park within walking distance, an odd (yet delicious) hippie commune-owned deli nearby, and our apartment is endearing. Our landmates who live above us are friendly, fun, and helpful. Together the four of us share chickens, vegetables, tools, and laughs. We joke about the odd construction of our place, how the owner thought to put in crown moulding in our basement apartment but didn’t bother to finish the ceiling in the pantry. The shower is about the size of a phone booth, and we even had to buy a special shower head so Andrew could fit under it. But this was our first apartment together! We will always remember the quirks. We will always remember the beautiful view. The neighbor’s peacock running around on the roof. The feeling of having our own small space together to be a couple, learn more about each other, and nurture our relationship. It is perfect in its imperfection, and I am going to miss it.
I am also going to miss San Diego. We don’t know ultimately where we will land, but I have a feeling we will not be living here in the foreseeable future. We have reasons to come back to visit (weddings in October, travel to Baja for Thanksgiving), but it’s looking like the Pacific Northwest will be our stomping grounds for a while. I admire the beauty and lush greenery of Washington, but those of you who know me well may have noticed that my fingers turn white when it’s cold. And how “cold” for me is 65 degrees. I am a Cali girl through and through, and when I moved to San Diego I told myself I could die happy here.
Fortunately when you go on an adventure part of the thrill is letting go and allowing yourself to revel in the spontaneity of life. This mindset is one I hope to cling to, regardless of whether we are on the road or starting to settle down. As long as I’m with my love I will be happy at home, wherever it may be.