One foot in and one foot back; well it don't pay to live like that
So, it's about that time!
Tomorrow's moving day--the car's mostly packed (voila, 12 of 12), the iPod's loaded up with new podcasts for the drive, and all I can say is that my twenty-five-year-old self would definitely not have believed this. I'm thrilled and terrified--afraid to leave but ready to go--which, is there a word for this? There must be. Surely I am not the only one who gets this way, going to bed in an empty bedroom.
The hard part is leaving my friends again, when I feel like I just got here--but at the same time, I think the time I've had with them this year has been extra-sweet, and they've been nothing but supportive (possibly due to the threat of beatings at the hands of captainoz, who is endearingly determined in her encouragement). I'm also leaving Sherlock with my parents, due to a severely allergic roommate and much to my sorrow--but it's only for three months, including time at home for Thanksgiving and Christmas and possibly the sing-along Sound of Music that I really want to go to, after which my roommates are breaking up anyway and I'll find someplace cat-friendly. Sigh. Now who will try to lick live spiders off the wall?
The best part, though--well, how would I know? However: I have an awesome internship (actually, maybe two: I have an interview on Monday) and three fun roommates...and momentum. (Also a house with a pool. Swimming pools! Movie stars!) And that, I can get behind.
In any case, that's the beauty of L.A.: only two Fresh Airs, two This American Lifes, and a Radio Lab (also accepted: Car Talk), and you're there, or back! Piece of cake.
See you on the flip side.
Tomorrow's moving day--the car's mostly packed (voila, 12 of 12), the iPod's loaded up with new podcasts for the drive, and all I can say is that my twenty-five-year-old self would definitely not have believed this. I'm thrilled and terrified--afraid to leave but ready to go--which, is there a word for this? There must be. Surely I am not the only one who gets this way, going to bed in an empty bedroom.
The hard part is leaving my friends again, when I feel like I just got here--but at the same time, I think the time I've had with them this year has been extra-sweet, and they've been nothing but supportive (possibly due to the threat of beatings at the hands of captainoz, who is endearingly determined in her encouragement). I'm also leaving Sherlock with my parents, due to a severely allergic roommate and much to my sorrow--but it's only for three months, including time at home for Thanksgiving and Christmas and possibly the sing-along Sound of Music that I really want to go to, after which my roommates are breaking up anyway and I'll find someplace cat-friendly. Sigh. Now who will try to lick live spiders off the wall?
The best part, though--well, how would I know? However: I have an awesome internship (actually, maybe two: I have an interview on Monday) and three fun roommates...and momentum. (Also a house with a pool. Swimming pools! Movie stars!) And that, I can get behind.
In any case, that's the beauty of L.A.: only two Fresh Airs, two This American Lifes, and a Radio Lab (also accepted: Car Talk), and you're there, or back! Piece of cake.
See you on the flip side.