If you took a look at my last five years, you might guess that moving is one of my favorite and least favorite things to do:
- At 18, I opted to apply for music programs exclusively in California and Chicago, both of which are quite far from my hometown of Syracuse, a small city in Central New York.
- At 19, I moved from the gross, thin-walled dorms on campus into a house with a bunch of friends in which I was a terrible roommate (I am now apologetic about this fact) and we drank entirely too many Mickey’s forties.
- At 20, I moved into a lovely apartment with my close friend.
- At 21, my close friend allowed her married 34-year-old deadbeat boyfriend to
move in withmooch off of us while abandoning his poor wife… for 3 months. I wound up moving in with some lovely ladies from Craigslist who were all my age, plus the greatest little chihuahua, and had a lovely time.
- At 22, I moved back east to Syracuse to save money.
- And now, 6 months later, at 23, I am moving back to the West Coast and relocating to Portland, OR.
I, a young woman who does not particularly like hippies and PBR and the feeling of used books on my fingers, am moving to the highly satirized (and highly fantastic) city of Portland. A big portion of this decision is my desire to own chickens — which apparently a ton of people do in Portland, even if they live in the city itself. I also prefer small cities to large ones, as I find them (A) cleaner (B) kinder and (C) cheaper. Since I typically don’t even get dressed for work, let alone actually go to an office (well, besides last week!), I was able to make the decision and buy my plane ticket on a bit of a whim.
Now, despite recent personal stories, I actually do very little things “on a whim.” I don’t vacation spontaneously; I don’t randomly quit my job; I rarely even stay out late if that wasn’t my original plan. And I most certainly don’t suddenly decide to move back across the country when I had spent hundreds of hours just six months ago packing up, donating and generally ridding myself of all of my accumulated belongings.
But, lo and behold, here I am: Seeking New Beginnings Sam. Because apparently, I am living in a 90s comedic drama.