16 Feet and 220 Miles

Let me just preface this post with I don't own a car and I haven't since 2012. I've probably driven three times in the last year. My driving ability can be best described by the below:

So when I went to go pick up my moving truck from the rental company and they told me that they didn't have any 12 footer trucks available, only 16's,  I thought to myself - this is it. This is how it ends. I'm going to die on the New Jersey Turnpike and I won't even be able to will any of my clothes to my sister because they are going to go up in flames along with my body.

So on Monday, October 3rd at 5:15AM I put that sucker in D and slowly merged onto 95N. You guys, I made it. Obviously. And I only hit two things - one parked vehicle (no damage) and some road barricades (they were plastic). Nobody died.

I am never moving ever again. My body is still covered in bruises and I'm pretty sure my entire back is just one big knot. Somebody get this girl a massage.

For those of you thinking about moving, don't. Also, if you think you don't have that much stuff think again because shit will just start coming out of cupboards and closets like it's Narnia.

The next time I have to do this I will have to be heavily medicated or drunk or both because this sucked. But then again it might have all been worth it because check out this view. You guys, NYC has already stolen my heart.

On to the Next

I'm sitting on an air mattress in a completely empty apartment right now - it's my last night here. There are scuffs on the floors and countless nail holes on almost every wall. This place has been lived in well. This place has been a home.

I moved to the DC Metro area almost exactly five years ago. The 10 hour drive from my tiny hometown to here was full of Coldplay songs and ugly cries.  I hated leaving a home where my initials were written in cement in my backyard. Where my best friend lived just down the dirt road. And where you waved at strangers passing on the street. Most of all, I hated leaving behind the comfort of everything familiar and safe.

Living in a place like Washington, DC has taught me more things than even I probably realize right now. But the most important lesson this city has taught me is that I am fiercely independent. In the last five years here I've severed ties with relationships that I had outgrown and I've seen myself heal in places I thought would always be hurting. I've never before felt so wonderfully whole and content. I've never before felt so....me.

And now I'm changing things up again - this time, just for the hell of it.

This place will always have a piece of my heart. Yes, I grew up in Holly, Michigan. But I also did quite a lot of growing up here too. And for that I will always be thankful.

NYC - I'm coming for ya.