Threshold to adult living

I had such a lovely send-off from FoCo: hanging out with friends at Barnes and Noble, lots of hugs, one last taste of Old Town with Trai, watching Game of Thrones with Stephanie, and finally a home-cooked meal with Gil and Adele on their patio, watching the sun set beside the Poudre trail. Couldn’t have asked for lovelier memories of lovelier people.

I’m really glad I asked Oxford for time to do the move in a good way because the Research Triangle is way different from anywhere I’ve lived and it’s taking some figuring out. I’m staying with a childhood friend, Betsy, and even though we haven’t spoken in 20 years, we’re getting on like a house on fire. So we’re working our way through finding my first car and finding an apartment in the area where I’ll be happy. (Happiness being a juggling act of decent commute, affordable apartment, close to interesting things and people, not close to scary neighborhoods, etc. In some ways, Manhattan felt easier to figure out on that score!)

It feels kind of bizarre to me because for these two weeks I am very much in transition. When I finish, I’ll have a job, a car, an apartment, and the start of my first real furniture–a new and heightened sense of adulthood–but right now I’m between roles, not knowing anything, very dependent on others for help, and trying my best to make good decisions that are going to affect me greatly for the next few years. I have faith that it’s all going to come together–it’s only day 2 and we’ve made significant progress–but I’ll be very glad when it’s all figured out, especially if I figure it all out in time to give myself a bit of real vacation before I have to start work.



For some reason, everything that should have taken an insane amount of time today has flown by and everything I thought would be fairly easy was extremely complicated.

Moving all my stuff (except two small boxes I’m saving for the end) took an hour. An hour! My friend Steph showed up in a pickup truck bigger than God, we loaded it up, and when we got to the post office, they let us park by the loading dock and use the dollies and they had two postal workers divvy up the work. An hour’s work and $580 to move across the country. Wow.

Getting rid of my mattress, on the other hand, is a huge production. I’ve put out ads and gotten no takers, and apparently used furniture stores and donation centers in this state can’t take mattresses anymore. So tomorrow will involve calls to the dump and the neighborhood trash service.

And backing up all my computer files onto my old spare flash drive caused nine computer crashes and some wonky files. There’s a reason I stopped using that thing. So the epic saga continues, but I should finish everything just in time to fly out of here on Sunday.


I can’t possibly have this much stuff. I trade in half the books I buy, I hate shopping for clothes, I’ve resisted buying cooking items I covet because I knew I’d have to pack them (I desperately need a hand mixer, a ceramic casserole dish, a pie pan, and ramekins), so how can I possibly be looking at twice as many boxes as I moved here with?

My main concern is that when I get to NC, I’m crashing with a friend who has very generously offered to let me stay with her and her family while I look for an apartment, and I’m worried about abusing her hospitality by overwhelming her with these boxes.

I should say, focusing on the positives in my life, I’m blown away by how welcoming people in North Carolina are being (and you know who you are!). Although in these three years I’ve found a huge number of really splendid Colorado friends I’m going to miss terribly, I came out here not knowing a soul. I haven’t even set foot in NC yet, and I have a dear childhood friend, five or six rabbis, and two wonderful friends from fandom who I’m hoping to get together with when I get down there, not to mention my future coworkers and whichever synagogue community I choose. It’s really incredible.

Apparently the universe doesn’t want me to move

Just when I’m halfway between the mail depot and my office on campus (about three blocks in either direction), a torrential storm slams down from a clear blue sky. Soaks the cardboard box I’ve just gotten and whips the Styrofoam packing popcorn two feet in the air within seconds. It’s one of those days when I’m too tired to do anything but laugh, dry off, and try again tomorrow.