My family moved around a lot when I was growing up. If memory serves me, it went a little something like this:
California Birth - 1
Texas 1.5 - 2
Back to California (apartment) 2-4
House in California 4-12
Condo in Pennsylvania 12-13
House in Pennsylvania 13-15
Living with grandparents back in California 15-16
Shittiest house ever in California 16-17
Living with other grandparents in what seemed like a fucking palace after our shit houses over the years, still in California 17-19
Moved out on my own with roommates 19 - 20
Back to Grandparents 20 - 22
Then it was into a condo in Northern California for another 8 months before the big move to Los Angeles... where I have lived in an apartment in Hollywood for one year, a back house in Atwater for 2 years, the teeny tiny house in Atwater for 2.5 years, and our current flat in Atwater for three years.
For those of you keeping track, you will see that my calculations show 16 moves in 30 years. That I remember. There are probably more. Who knows how many times my family actually moved around when I was a baby.
The point it this: you would think that I am used to it. You would think that I could handle packing up and shifting spaces. But I still can't. We are 24 hours away from signing a lease on a new place and panic has set in. My mind is a mess. Why are we doing this? Can't we make our current place work?
We started to seriously look for a new house six months ago. We even dodged a REALLY HUGE bullet when we suddenly decided at the last minute not to lease a tiny, yet darling, cabin with a crazy landlord. We took a few months off after the crazy incident, while I finished up my semester, but a week ago we decided to go full throttle in the house search once again. And just yesterday, in our second viewing of the day, after getting caught in thick black smoke and almost having to drive the wrong way down I-5 after a tanker blew up, we found a place we like. It's small. It's a little run down. But it has a detached studio and a big yard and all I want right now is to be outside all the time.
The reasons for moving are muddled. We need a fresh start. We don't utilize our space, and we want a smaller footprint. Oh, and did I mention the gangs? There is fresh graffiti on the walls each morning, although that isn't what bothers me the most. That would be the three gas stations and the car wash that are all within fume smelling distance. I wake up sometimes thinking about what exactly we are breathing in, what we are drinking in the water, what kind of messy magic our cells are mutating into the longer we are here. Being on a super busy street with no speed bumps and crazy drivers doesn't help either. I often fear for the dogs, children and skunks who live on our block.
But here we go. The deposit has been made. No turning back unless we want to be out a large amount of money. And I am excited. I really am. Also nostalgic for this place we haven't even left yet.
Once again, I need to make a list to feel better.
Why we should move... by megan marie. v2.0
1. a glorious view and fresh air (vs. gas station fumes and car wash run off)
2. a quiet street up a winding hill (vs. traffic all day and all night)
3. a driveway and parking spaces (vs. fighting for parking with oversized trucks and recycling bins)
4. a washer and dryer (vs. well, no washer and dryer)
5. a very large fenced in back yard, patio and front porch (vs. a shared backyard full, sometimes fill of dog shit)
What are we giving up? Our neighbors that I love and adore and trust. I will miss talking to neighbor E every day when I get home from work and he is outside smoking. I will miss all the dogs, and the new baby. I will be sad that Bronco won't be growing up with his sister Juno any longer, even though we will visit often. That one still makes me want to cry. I will need to get a car or a scooter to get to work, as my job and our gym will no longer be within walking distance. I will miss our hardwood floors, as crappy as they are, they are still real wood. The new place has laminate and carpet, at least until I convince the landlord to let us put in Ikea fakies. I will miss our long hallway and the extra space, even though that is half the reason we are moving. I will miss our beautiful dining room that used to be red and that we hardly ever use.
I will miss the security of knowing. But I look forward to the adventure of a new neighborhood. I am going to miss the village dearly. And hope that we're not making a mistake.
The view from the front porch (not screened, but it will do!) of our new house, "eagle's nest." complete with LA smog and power lines, because we're so glamorous here.
You would think from all of my moaning that we are moving across the world, and not just 3.7 miles, one measly neighborhood away.