I have an announcement.
I love Philadelphia. I love it with every fiber of my being. I love the smell of Kelley Drive in the spring. I love sliding into a bar stool at Bridgid's in Fairmount. I love imaging myself inside any of the beautiful houses on Pine Street. I love gliding past the Art Museum on my bike. I love walking through Headhouse Square. I love that I can be down the shore or in the mountains in an hour. And more than anything, I love that I'm surrounded by my family and some of my closest friends.
When I was away for long periods of time in college, I'd always get a rush of excitement on my way home when the car approached the city. It would grow and grow as the car ride wore on. And as soon as we got within city boundaries, the dam would break and a wave of ease and home would overtake my body.
B and I are getting married in September. You already know this. Probably. Unless you're an asshole. Get with it, asshole. Here's the part that you don't know. That part that keeps me up at night gnashing my teeth. The part that has my simultaneously peeing my pants with anxiety and anticipation. The part that one day has me giddy with excitement and the next day crying on my couch. If you know me, you know how much the idea of not being with my family hurts.
After the wedding, B and I are moving to Massachusetts.
Have you caught your breath yet?
The big moving talk has been on the table for quite some time, but balls are actually rolling now. Yes, BALLS. Grow up, Falko.
B is a tennis pro. His family owns a couple tennis clubs. On the South Shores of Massachusetts. It's time for him to get into the family biz. Unless he wants to hang out down here with Candy and the other country club biddies. It's kind of like being a freelance journalist or the owner of the Philadelphia Inquirer. Okay, that was a bad example.
For a while we debated between living in the city of Boston or in the town B grew up in on the South Shore, which just so happens to be on the beach. With a harbor. That has boats. And other boaty beachy things. A house at the beach. MY GAH. Naturally, as soon as we decided on renting in the city for a few years, we turned around and decided we'd be crazy not to buy a house in this market because the economy is broken and blah blah blah. So now here we are. House hunting. For a house. At the beach. Oceandoggy would be proud. It's kind of like having a permanent vacation home, right? A mere 40 minutes from downtown Boston.
Needles to say, we have absolutely no idea what we're doing. That's why B is up in Massachusetts for a long weekend taking a look at things for himself. And thank gah, B's parents are pretty excited to have us on our way, and are more than willing to help us find the perfect first home. I'm serious. THANK GAH.
And here's where I get excited. I'll admit it. I can't wait to see the houses that might be ours in less than a year. I've already been browsing decor sites and have picked out the colors of my future kitchen. I can't wait for Rooney to have a yard that he can spaz around in. And backyard barbeques. And other house things. But I'm also freaking. FREAKING. What about my family? What will that be like in five years? Ten years? Can I even imagine being a six hour ride away from them? What about the day I come back to Philadelphia and don't recognize the new bars and shops? When it no longer feels like my city?
For now, I'll take it a day at a time. All I have to do is not get fired from my job between now and then. In an effort of self preservation, I've compiled a list of things I will attempt to stop doing or cut back on at work:
1. Name calling
2. Prank calling
4. Eating other people's lunches
5. Watching porn
6. Stealing toilet paper
7. Lighting my desk on fire
8. Googling ways to make odorless, tasteless poison out of common household items
9. Screaming profanities
So now I don't even know what I'm going to DO with myself at work all day and this is totally gonna blow for the next eight months. GAH.
UPDATE: Thanks to a recommendation from Bradford Pearson, I've decided that said future house must be constructed with at least one hidden room that can only be accessed via a moving bookcase. This might take a while.