When I was a kid, we lived in a cute little neighborhood in Jackson, Ohio. Our house was on a cul-de-sac and had a huge, huge tree in the backyard. When it was dark I was afraid the tree would fall on the house but during the daytime I loved it. We also had an apple tree, and our front yard was perfect for wiffle ball games.
But when I turned 8, my family moved to Louisville, Ohio. It was the cruelest most meanest thing anyone could ever have done to me. I remember sitting in my room at our new, big house - my very own room - and vowing that I wouldn't talk to Mom or Dad for at least 2 weeks. Then, later, I grew up in that house.
When I went away to Ohio U in the fall of 2005, Mom and Dad decided to move again, this time to Akron. They were building their own house this time. I refused to see it. Literally- we were in the Akron area once before the house was ready and they drove us all by the plot, and I ducked behind the front seat and wouldn't look. Because I do what I want, that's why. Then, at Christmas, when Dad brought me home for break I didn't even know which house was ours. But when I walked in I said... we're this kind of people? The house has a huge loft that overlooks a huge, beautiful living room. It is lovely. But, you know. I still drove down to Louisville one time, broke into our old house before it was sold and sat on the kitchen counter for a while. If you think I'm kidding, I'd like to thank you for still hesitating to accept that I'm a crazy as you suspect.
Now, Aar and I are moving. We've lived in this little apartment since the day we stepped off the plane from our honeymoon, smack into a new state and a marriage and adult life where we make our own peanut butter sandwiches to pack for lunch. In some ways I hate this place. There are too many windows and they face west. That's a death wish in Scottsdale. Also, sometimes a girl just wants to read the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants in peace. But when that Xbox gets rolling, ain't no room in this tiny box where you can't hear it. (You can feel bad for me if you want, and also you should tell me about it and give me things.)
However, the instant we found this adorable new little stucco house with a gorgeous, fenced-in backyard heaven for little doggie Jethro and french doors opening to our patio from the master bedroom, my world caved in a little bit. WE'RE MOVING. Suddenly I want to take pictures of everything here. Our stupid tiny closet where my shoes don't fit. The gym at our apartment complex's office where I've spent an obscene amount of time in the last two years. The kitchen were Aaron looked at me over the sink one time and said "If you want to do something new in your life, you can do it, you know."
Moving is weird, but I think it could be fun. Though I still may not talk to our realtor for two weeks.
The worst is that I know that there will be a night after we move in January where I'll wake up and not know where I am for a second. Can I call you when that happens?