Up, up and away
That's the last of it. I am moved into my new apartment and cleaned out of the last. No, I didn't flee to Florida. I didn't leave Pasadena. I didn't even leave my apartment building. My roommate and I moved to a floor far away from my upstairs neighbors and their three barking dogs and their two badly playing piano children. It was either that, or living out the rest of life with homicide under my belt.
My roommate is such a sport. She's leaving in a few months to move with her boyfriend when he gets dispatched to Florida (Navy), though I may be here for another year. I feel in a way as if I've forced this burden of moving on her since I'm here longer-hell, just because i move on average at least once a year doesn't mean others are used to such a nomadic schedule. True, the neighbors are a hassle to her, too, but the piano and dog cages are right above my (old) room were a huge disturbance to me. And now that I'm unemployed and trying to study for the GMAT at home, the noise is beyond ignorable. She only hears the piano, missing the dogs when she goes to work in the day, but was still willing to forego the moving bullshit. So once I proposed the option of this apartment, as suggested by the manager with no extra rent or new security deposit, she agreed.
So here we are.
The new apartment is fantastic! Rather, it's the view that makes it spectacular. It's on the fourth (top) floor and it faces the mountains (North) instead of an office building. We're right next to the 210 freeway so it's little louder, but I can sit on the balcony (like I am right now) and zone out, watching cars zoom by or become stuck in traffic. But the mountains-oh my god! They are about five miles away, and take up the scenery outside our windows. I absolutely adore this place. I wish we lived here during the Station Fire; I wouldn't have had to go anywhere to watch the glowing mountains outside my bedroom.
Here we are at dusk, watching the 210 eastbound, while I play around with exposures on a borrowed camera.
And then we jump to night, looking due North over the passing freeway below. Once I post photos from the day, you can see Mt. Wilson to the slight Northeast, on the highest peak of the mountain (I think it's 5,800ish feet above where I am now). Mt. Wilson, for those of you who aren't obsessed with driving these mountain roads, is one of the few TV/Radio broadcast tower locations. I have posted some photos from atop the mountain looking down on Facebook, so it's fun to see it from the ground, looking up.
And yet again at night, looking west. I still need to get a good midday mountain shot, but it's been foggy and besides, I'm photographically preoccupied with traffic patterns. I also need an example as to how congested this freeway gets during rush hour. No, I don't miss driving 2.5 hours on thie road to my classes at school 25 miles east.
Ok, back to the apartment. The only thing is....it's the exact mirror image of our old apartment. It's really tripping me out so far. Furthermore, we've been putting our stuff in the exact mirrored location, which you would think would help, but only seems to make us more confused. I transported my cat here after we moved most of our stuff and she was the most confused of all of us; it was kinda hilarious. She spent the night meowing at my roommate's door-which was in my location-until she started to figure things out. Poor Lolita, I hear ya.
I also wonder how I have as much shit as I do, even after donating boxes upon boxes of clothes and kitchenware to goodwill. I'm usually so frugal and then I see how much stuff I've accumulated over the years and it must add up to several thousands of dollars. Also, it's weird to think of the amount of time I spent shopping for and buying these items. Everything I own was a conscious selection between products, and here I am moving boxes upon boxes of possessions. Every time I move, I adamantly think: next time, I'm hiring movers. This time, even though I recruited a lot of my help from my awesome friends, it still lasted exponentially longer than I thought it would.
So while this move is done, I sit restless until I move again. It could be in December, it could be a year from then. I'm anxious about what to do with my roommate situation once my current one moves to Florida. I'm worried about making this new place as home-like as the last one felt. But aside from such worries, I'm glad though. Every apartment I've moved to has been a step up--be it by location, moving away from bad relationships or moving away from irritating neighbors--it's always been a move, a long, exhausting one at that, but a move in the right direction.
My roommate is such a sport. She's leaving in a few months to move with her boyfriend when he gets dispatched to Florida (Navy), though I may be here for another year. I feel in a way as if I've forced this burden of moving on her since I'm here longer-hell, just because i move on average at least once a year doesn't mean others are used to such a nomadic schedule. True, the neighbors are a hassle to her, too, but the piano and dog cages are right above my (old) room were a huge disturbance to me. And now that I'm unemployed and trying to study for the GMAT at home, the noise is beyond ignorable. She only hears the piano, missing the dogs when she goes to work in the day, but was still willing to forego the moving bullshit. So once I proposed the option of this apartment, as suggested by the manager with no extra rent or new security deposit, she agreed.
So here we are.
The new apartment is fantastic! Rather, it's the view that makes it spectacular. It's on the fourth (top) floor and it faces the mountains (North) instead of an office building. We're right next to the 210 freeway so it's little louder, but I can sit on the balcony (like I am right now) and zone out, watching cars zoom by or become stuck in traffic. But the mountains-oh my god! They are about five miles away, and take up the scenery outside our windows. I absolutely adore this place. I wish we lived here during the Station Fire; I wouldn't have had to go anywhere to watch the glowing mountains outside my bedroom.
Here we are at dusk, watching the 210 eastbound, while I play around with exposures on a borrowed camera.
And then we jump to night, looking due North over the passing freeway below. Once I post photos from the day, you can see Mt. Wilson to the slight Northeast, on the highest peak of the mountain (I think it's 5,800ish feet above where I am now). Mt. Wilson, for those of you who aren't obsessed with driving these mountain roads, is one of the few TV/Radio broadcast tower locations. I have posted some photos from atop the mountain looking down on Facebook, so it's fun to see it from the ground, looking up.
And yet again at night, looking west. I still need to get a good midday mountain shot, but it's been foggy and besides, I'm photographically preoccupied with traffic patterns. I also need an example as to how congested this freeway gets during rush hour. No, I don't miss driving 2.5 hours on thie road to my classes at school 25 miles east.
Ok, back to the apartment. The only thing is....it's the exact mirror image of our old apartment. It's really tripping me out so far. Furthermore, we've been putting our stuff in the exact mirrored location, which you would think would help, but only seems to make us more confused. I transported my cat here after we moved most of our stuff and she was the most confused of all of us; it was kinda hilarious. She spent the night meowing at my roommate's door-which was in my location-until she started to figure things out. Poor Lolita, I hear ya.
I also wonder how I have as much shit as I do, even after donating boxes upon boxes of clothes and kitchenware to goodwill. I'm usually so frugal and then I see how much stuff I've accumulated over the years and it must add up to several thousands of dollars. Also, it's weird to think of the amount of time I spent shopping for and buying these items. Everything I own was a conscious selection between products, and here I am moving boxes upon boxes of possessions. Every time I move, I adamantly think: next time, I'm hiring movers. This time, even though I recruited a lot of my help from my awesome friends, it still lasted exponentially longer than I thought it would.
So while this move is done, I sit restless until I move again. It could be in December, it could be a year from then. I'm anxious about what to do with my roommate situation once my current one moves to Florida. I'm worried about making this new place as home-like as the last one felt. But aside from such worries, I'm glad though. Every apartment I've moved to has been a step up--be it by location, moving away from bad relationships or moving away from irritating neighbors--it's always been a move, a long, exhausting one at that, but a move in the right direction.