a reintroduction

I don’t know what draws me back here.  My new “blog” is technically my tumblr and although I do occasionally write there… I don’t write like I have done here.  This has always felt like a diary to me whereas tumblr is like a fast paced spew out random thoughts thing.

There is an ungodly amount of bullshit that has happened in the time that I’ve been gone from this blog.  Including things I just don’t think I will ever be able to talk about.

Maybe in time I will write a little bit more about all the missing aspects of this blog but the biggest thing to mention is that my husband is now on the UNOS waiting list for a new liver.  Officially listed.  Officially waiting.  This is obviously huge and when the time comes a new organ will change our lives dramatically.

After some hospitalizations this summer, Ki’s GI finally agreed that it was transplant listing time.  If it wouldn’t have happened when it did I would have become irate with a man I otherwise liked very much.  But enough was enough truly… an alpha 1 liver does not get better, does not stabilize like some other forms of liver disease… which let us be honest here, the only type of liver disease that has the potential to really stabilize is that caused by alcoholism IF the alcoholic quits drinking.

We were then transferred to the ‘official’ liver clinic to a hepatologist that specializes in transplant patients only.  That made it all feel very real for certain.  And then they set up the appointments for transplant testing and that was all… so much a blur.

In my head I had this idea of what the transplant testing would be like.  I would gather around my family… have them come and show support.  The testing process would be serene and empowering for him, I would make it that way.

Instead he and his mom left the night before and I went down the next day.  I had a massive meltdown the afternoon I left and sat in the truck and hyperventilated in a parking lot for 20 minutes before I calmed my ass down.  The day of testing I arrived at the hospital separately and missed the psych eval with him because my phone had no service and I didn’t realize it until restarting it and getting a slew of messages from him… it was just me, him and his mom…. the social worker eval made me insanely nervous because he kept looking like he was going to pass out during it… everything was driving me crazy.  I was so upset, because I felt like… I should have made this better for you in some way.

And then the wait.  The fucking wait to find out if he would be listed.  There was nothing indicating he wouldn’t be but still… you kind of sit on pins and needles with every single ‘what if’ banging around inside of your skull.

The day he got the call he went outside to take it while I paced around nervously inside of the house.  It was only when I heard him begin to ask certain questions that I let myself believe that it would be real.  When he came inside and told me I just hugged him and cried.  Happy tears, anxious tears, hopeful tears, tears that have been held in for so long awaiting this hope.  Then came waiting for the insurance approval which took about 2 weeks before officially being put on the list.

We’ve been told the average wait time is 6 months.  We are very very lucky to live in an area that currently has a shorter wait time than other areas of the country.  His meld has still stayed pretty low all things considered though so I don’t know how all of it will play out, but at the time he was listed he was told he was third on the list for his blood type.

We’ve had low sodium drama again this fall but so far his doctor has managed to keep him out of the hospital by watching the situation very closely from home, which I am thankful for.  Hospital stays always suck the life out of us and I need as much life not sucked out of me as possible in order to prepare for this whole transplant thing.

The other big thing… was moving.

To be quite honest, to move again was devastating in a lot of ways.  I felt like I had “made it” so to speak when I had my house in the country.  That is what I always wanted again after all.  Even when we lived in tiny house, I was very happy there.  But then Ki insisted that we move down the road to the bigger house that our landlord was renting.

That house never really felt like home.  Granted, things went to hell almost immediately after moving in but it always felt off to me, like it had bad energy or something.  When we left the only thing I could honestly say I would miss was the privacy and the giant yard but nothing else I felt attached to.

It just got too expensive to stay there and so we waited rather patiently while still looking as a lady in my old hometown where I spent the first 10 years of life was renovating a house.  When I first came to look at it (Ki was in the hospital at the time) I thought there was no way in hell she would ever get it up to my standards, it need A LOT of work.  She didn’t seem to think we would be waiting for her to finish but I told her we would keep in touch.  And that we did… all the way up until we decided that we were going to take it.  October rolled around and the beginning of the month we moved.

So here I am, starting again in the small town that I lived for the first 10 years of my life… living on the street I spent many years visiting my aunt and playing with my cousins on.  I literally live a few houses down from my dad which feels crazy because I haven’t been so close to any family since becoming an adult.  I even live right next door to one of my cousins.

The house is lovely.  Being in town again is weird but it isn’t terrible because I have a nice big backyard and our land lady is very carefree about us being here… very laid back do what you want type of person.  We pay $200 less for rent… no deposit, no pet deposit.  I mean that alone was such a huge blessing.  This place is cheap for this town even, because there is a private college and most people who rent, rent to students at a rate of $200-300 a room so a 3 bedroom house, they almost always ask $900 a month here…because they can get with with the college students/roommate situation.

At any rate… that’s been life in a nutshell this year… Ki’s health things… moving.  And now 2015 is almost gone and I can only imagine what crazy shit 2016 has in store.

I just pray for my husband’s health.  I pray he gets transplanted soon so we can have keeping a new liver healthy being the health focus instead of keeping a dying liver stable.

My faith has never strayed there that everything will be okay.  That he will be okay.  Over 2 years ago I felt this strong feeling that it was going to work out.  I still believe that with all my soul.

Reporting from the Loft…

Oh dear… So much to write, so much time elapsed. Well, we moved! We have now been here a good month. I am entirely unsure how to write anything about the last month since it mainly seems to be a blur that has run together. A lot has gone on in a month, not entirely moving related but I will keep this post about the move. Moving day was difficult, just physically and emotionally I guess. And it was so hot out. Ki had 2 of his friends help us move so honestly, I didn’t have to much on the heavy lifting end of things. I guess it was a small consolation prize for having to unpack pretty much everything and finish up cleaning the apartment and crap… blech.

The first night at the new place was so weird. I could barely sleep because I have a really rough time sleeping in environments that are not “mine”. That morning I got up and went back to the apartment to collect some things. When I got there I instinctively expected Nacho to start barking as I put the keys into the look, after all it was just home the day before. But there was no Nacho because there was a new home. I hung up the keys in the familiar spot and sat down on the floor and cried. I don’t know why. It only lasted a few minutes. I guess I just had to get it out.

We weren’t actually done in the apartment until just a couple of weekends ago. I went in and cleaned and shit. It was actually cathartic for me to slowly empty the remaining bits and clean and deconstruct the home that I had constructed, that way it didn’t feel so blunt and forced as Ki and his friends coming and ripping it away from me. Each visit back felt stranger and stranger. Less familiar space. I began to realize that there was no magic properties this place held that made it home. I had given it that meaning.

That last Sunday I was there cleaning sealed the fact that I was ready to leave and never return when I went outside and realized on of my garden trellis thingys had been stolen. I was seething if for nothing else it embodied so much of what I hated and had to get away from at this place. Suddenly I turned around to a boy carrying it towards me. “Sorry,” he said, “My step dad took this.” I don’t know if I even said anything. I was just in shock. Did a grown man really steal my shit and a child just return it?

However on Saturday I had started a job as I was cleaning and had to finish it on Sunday… and that was not only cleaning the apartment, but clearing out the energy and giving it a blessing. I felt responsible for doing that, since we were the first ones to ever live there. The energy that was inside was all ours and in a few places I could feel that it was heavy and stuck. It was very final. And it felt very light when I left. I felt that weird very happy, so happy that you feel kind of sad combo feeling. The energy felt really good. Peaceful. And in the dining room, I felt like the laughter that was shared there from family gatherings, even if they were few, clung to the walls.

And now, I think this is the quickest I have ever adopted a new place as home. It wasn’t hard to do. This place isn’t perfect but it does have so much of what I’ve been bitching for years about wanting. In retrospect I wish I would have done a smudging before we unpacked everything and cleared the energy here just to make it fresh but one of the reasons I fell in love with this place was because from the moment we first came to see it, it had such light airy energy which made me love it even more. I feel like somebody said goodbye to in the way that I said goodbye to my apartment. They left it with a blessing. It was annoying to unpack everything. I think more so annoying because this is no longer the typical apartment layout. Before I would have just set up everything in the usual way. This time it is a little different. And we also own different stuff than we did when we moved the last time, 4 years ago.

The bedroom was a challenge but I am getting it worked out. It was so bizarre to go to this tiny bedroom but it doesn’t matter much since I have my own space in the loft now, which is 20x cooler lol. I just realized the bedroom needed to feel “whimsical” to make it feel right, so that is what I started working, importing various whimsy haha. Since it is no longer “my room” I haven’t dwelt upon the smallness as much. In fact I think that it has actually grown to seem normal to me and someday when I once again have a large bedroom, it will leave me in shock and awe lol

It has been my realization that this place was waiting for us to find it. We had initially went and looked at a duplex which I just fell in love with… it was so big, good location, close to school all that jazz… but it then turned out that the people who owned it were a bunch of liars about shit. Well it was a good thing that didn’t work out, because not long after our much longed for house and the country came up and we were offered it on the spot. It was unfortunate that it wasn’t going the other direction of the city… my plans had become to move closer to my family instead of ending up going the other way although I am not really any further…just not closer. But I am ridiculously happy and that is quite important.

I am so in love with having a yard, even if it means we have to mow it haha. I have this big porch and this big deck. Next year I am going to be able to hang flower baskets all along the porch and we are going to till up an area around the porch and deck for flower beds. Our landlord even told me that he would till me up a garden if I wanted one. I think the first 2 weeks we were here I did nothing for dinner but grill out because it just so amazing to actually be able to do so.

Plenty of various spaces for plants on the porch and deck

My outdoor fountain can now actually be used OUTDOORS. Amazing I know.

Greatest place to be. Rocking chair. Porch. No fear of children.

I love my front door, I think it is so pretty. And last week they came and put on a storm door on the back door so we can have it open with the screen and all. My dining area I love looking at every day. I love all the windows. It makes everything so bright and airy. And the way the house is positioned on the property most days when you open all the windows the air just whips through the house, it is so wonderful. The kitchen is tiny and we don’t have a lot of space to buy much groceries in advance but I still love it, it is just open and airy as well since it is all connected. And I had no idea how much I would love having a gas stove… omg everything cooks so fast lol

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I love how sunset's golden hour comes right into my kitchen, dining area, and loft.

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I got creative and actually placed a bookshelf on top of the stand that was already built in. It actually works and looks like it was almost a built in bookshelf type deal.

I love my loft so much. So so much. There’s actually 2 rooms in the loft, we have used one for storage but I have managed to organize it in a way that it would still be a functional area for somebody to sleep in that room if need me or what have you. I didn’t like that back area of the loft at first because it seemed so dark and just I dunno… a little creepy to me at first lol but now it is mine and I appreciate it more and more. My area of the loft is like some little fantasy world all my own. Nothing in it really makes since lol and I like it that way because it just consists of a bunch of things that I love. The bedroom has a similar theme going, but the loft is much more intensified of it. It’s basically the bedroom at the old apartment, I just broke it up and put some stuff in the bedroom here and the things I really felt spoke to me in the loft. I’ve laid up here a few times the past few nights just gazing out the window at the sun setting over the fields and felt completely happy and thinking how freaking lucky I was. Beautiful feelings to have.

My chill zone.

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It's like we barely have cats anymore. They think the loft is the greatest place ever.

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2nd room of the loft has been converted to storage area

Bathroom is so tiny but it is nice to not have to share a bathroom with the cat’s litterbox for the first time in years and years.

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This was all the further I could get in with a camera

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Managed to salvage some of my birds from the apt bathroom.

The bedroom is weird just because I don’t regard it as this majorly sacred space as I once did for that title now goes to the loft. But it is still this light playful area that has stuff from my childhood and other randomness. Someday I want a “grown up” bedroom, but it can wait for now.

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One of the 'whimsical' things that livened up the bedroom.

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Lots of windows, good breeze. Some lights and window scarves. What you don't see... bed, built in closet space and a curious amount of mirrors.

The living room is indeed about 2x the size of the one we had in the apartment. It was frustrating for me to actually put some of Ki’s stuff out there because we eventually moved his desk and all that out there… and then I realized how bad that was lol…. for me to like…want to claim every damn space. I guess I just got really spoiled by him having what we dubbed “the lounge” about the apartment and him having all his stuff in there. He had to put so much of his stuff into storage to move here, that I finally realized I was being a selfish cow for even thinking bad thoughts about him putting out a few of his things.

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The vintage Chinese lamp is hung, so that means it must be home.

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Kiowa's space, the corner next to the sofa.

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I've got more pictures to add to this wall area.

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Entertainment center & shelving.

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Area behind the sofa. We're gonna get a second rug to kind of section it off as it's own little space. We've dubbed it the chill zone lol

And then we have a very nice sized utility room. Much needed because it also doubles as a closet. We have a closet built into to one of the walls in the bedroom but it doesn’t hold much. We don’t yet have our own washer or dryer (something I sorely miss) but hopefully will soon… so somethings that are there now will have to be rearranged. It’s also really nice for holding a little extra storage, tools, cleaning supplies, etc.

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The room goes back the width of the living room, lots of space for various items that couldn't be kept elsewhere.

And about 2 weeks after we moved here I went back to the apartments one night and got Slinky, so he is here with us too and I am so happy he has stuck around. I will post his story later.

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Slinky. Happier than ever.

?????

I want to move and have it over with. But then I will have to unpack and that will suck. I’m still having all kinds of stupid emotions while packing. Further proof I suppose that this was indeed a home for me. It is mostly now connected to my bedroom. My sanctuary. I took down the netting canopy down from around the bed and it made the room look twice as big. I suddenly realized I hadn’t been utilizing the space as well as I could have but oh fuck, it was too late now. And the closet… it held so much stuff. I’m just going to miss it. Why am I being this way?! I did not expect myself to be this way at all. I’ve been looking for a house for months… this is what I wanted… what the fuck? I think it just all happened so fast that it has been shocking too. I mean we just went to look at the place and the next thing I know we’re signing a lease. I mean obviously I liked it because I am very very judgmental about my living conditions. I could see myself there and it embodied more of what I wanted than not. We went back the next day with the deposit and spent a decent chunk of time going through it further and I was still pleased. But I did notice myself skirting around the bedroom… dealing with its smallness is going to be the challenging part. That and I think that despite how much I wanted it, I’m just scared. It is something completely new for us. We will have been living together 9 years this month (holy crap, that’s crazy lol and I also totally realized that this year marked 10 years together for us, wow a whole decade. Of course I guess it didn’t much dawn on me b/c that anniversary was around the time we were all sick) and ANYWAYS lol… this is the first time we won’t be living in an apartment.

Moving….and fireworks i guess.

Avoiding packing?  Sit in this chair until my back hurts scrolling on tumblr apparently…. and to help aid in my “turn into a fat ass instead of packing”… I’m so ashamed of what I’ve eaten today b/c I didn’t want to mess with making anything in that kitchen any longer.

But I’m sort of irked b/c I knew packing would be this way.  He packs up his man cave and everything else is left to me.  But then again, I also know that if I could get him to do a lot of it in the end I would probably be frustrated as well b/c I would know what had gone into what box and blah blah blah.  I can’t really win there.

Last night I once again sort of felt that tinge of “wow this is about to not be my home anymore and that makes me kind of sad.”

It has been peaceful here this weekend.  Sadly it dawned on me why… 1) next door neighbors with some of the creepy kids have been gone which goes to show that the kids coming out of the place next door are sort of the ring leaders for all hanging out around here.  When they aren’t here, none of the other kids really hang out around here too much.

Tonight I was out on my patio watering my plants and the neighborhood was sounding like it was being bombed with all the fireworks lol and the lightening bugs had come out and it was warm but not hot and otherwise things were quiet and it was what I was used to… how it was before things started to change.  I felt nostalgic for my realization that this was “home” and all that.  I was happy here.  I stopped being happy here.  There are moments when I am still happy here.  But I am packing it up.  In a week I will be moving it.

I think my emotional attachment is partly because it still feels so unreal to me.  That I am going someplace new that embodies so many of the things that I wanted.  When we first viewed the house I really didn’t do anything but a brief walk through… as I was not expecting to have it offered to me that very day.  The next day we went and brought back the deposit and Ki & I both took the time to investigate it a little more thoroughly, but I still felt really detached from it… in that it just didn’t seem real for some reason.  I guess in my mind it could still blow up tomorrow or catch fire and burn to the ground before we move in or something…heh.

Yesterday while doing some errands in town, it was soooooooo quiet out.  Then it dawned on me that a lot of people were probably have cookouts and shit for July 4th.  I then decided that I was irked that for the past several years nobody in my family has wanted to do anything for July 4th.  It wasn’t like we ever had some July 4th ritual or anything, but it was nice that a least for a few years when I moved back from WI, we would often times do something.  Well next year I’m having a fucking cook out at my house dammit.

I wonder if our neighbors across the way here will do their annual fireworks show tonight?  If they do it will be the last one we will enjoy watching here.  That I will miss… an awesome 4th of July fireworks show that I do not have to leave my patio for.

I’ve given up on watching the city’s firework display.  It is generally very good but ever since they moved the location a few years back, it has just sucked.  They moved them to the university campus and the traffic and shit now… it is not worth seeing them.  And you can’t even see them well anyways seeing…oh… I dunno…. The campus is filled with TREES AND BUILDINGS THAT BLOCK MOST OF THE SKY. I love watching fireworks, so those asshats sort of ruined that for me.

Well I suppose I should go try to contemplate how to divide up the rest of this week’s moving activities so I’m not scrambling at the last minute.

Butthurt.

**For some reason despite my attempts to fix it I cannot do anything to fix the mass of words in this post.  It does not believe i paragraphs for some reason today.

 

It’s actually a bit deeper than that.. but butthurt seems fitting when I am both happy and sad.

I went back through some of my post history to find 2 old entries for this particular entry.  It then occurred to me the complete random nonsensical mass this consists of and how particularly fitting that a blog belonging to me be such.

After 4 years of living in the same place.. the same apartment… we will be saying goodbye.
There is a mass of emotions I did not expect in this.
On one hand, I am thrilled. Pretty much since I started living in apartments I have been talking about getting out of them. I found a post nearly 3 years old that talked about living “in the box” that I could no longer stand. However 1 year and 3 months later I had a change of heart of such and begin contemplating creating a home out of my box instead of just a place where I resided until something better came along.
But… I am me… so let me talk about the negative first before I go into reasons I am thrilled. Besides, perhaps it is better to end on a happy note.
In Sept ’09 when I decided maybe it was time to try to create a home for myself I began to become very attached to MY apartment. In fact I am quite sure that there is another post somewhere chronicling this. Ahhh yes… the next summer.. last year I had fully committed to viewing my apartment space as home. Looking back… that post makes me sad because it was the beginning of the end.

I putzed around the patio and in the background were birds chirping and the neighbor kids playing. It just felt so calming, so peaceful. And then it dawned on me that I have had this feeling before. Fleeting times when I was out here last summer, but deeper than that. I knew this. I knew what it was now. Home. This is home. This is my home. And this is the first time in 10 years or so that I have truly identified a place as being my home.

It hurts to read. It embodies what is saddening me right now.

No I won’t be here forever, but for as long as I am it is my sanctuary.

When it quit being my sanctuary, me being here also stopped being an option.

At the end of the summer of last year… my environment started to change. It seemed our leasing office no longer cared who they let live here. Oh the apartment next door has always been cursed but suddenly the entire place started becoming cursed.
The adults have not been as bad this round as the kids but we have some clear winners and oddly enough they live right by me. But…OMG the kids. They are deranged evil little fuckers and I hate them. AND THERE ARE SO MANY OF THEM. I am not a kid hater. I just hate these kids. Because they are horrible human beings. The boys… the boys are horrible. The girls… they mind their own business, they play normally, they are polite for the most part.
The boys… they destroy things, they are vile, they seek to be annoying on purpose I am convinced and they are constantly there… just lurking outside… it is a completely uncomfortable feeling to be anywhere near them. They embarked on my personal territory and enough was enough. When I could no longer walk out my front door w/o walking through a crowd of kids, enough was enough. When I could no longer sit outside on my patio w/o having a swarm of, no joke, 12-15 kids DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF MY PATIO, enough was enough. When I could no longer enjoy my screen door I paid $40 for and installed myself enough was enough. When I could no longer open my windows, enough was enough. When calling the apartment office citing various points already mentioned and pulling out our lease stating that none of these brats were supposed to be using the side yards as a play area and getting no response, enough was enough. When the 17 year old kid next door started getting in physical “domestic” disputes outside of my door with his 16 year old girlfriend, enough was enough. WHEN I STARTED LEAVING MY HOUSE IN THE EVENINGS BECAUSE BEING INSIDE WITH THE DOORS AND WINDOWS COMPLETELY SHUT WAS NOT ENOUGH TO ESCAPE THE CONSTANTLY YELLING, SCREAMING BULLSHIT ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH. Those were just the kids. Shall I discuss some of the adults who want to kill domestic animals among other “you might be a psychopath” criteria around here?
I could not do it anymore. I was a prisoner inside of my own home to escape the madness and even confining myself indoors did not shut it all out. For fuck’s sake, I dreaded taking the dog out to potty during the early evening hours especially because I would be met with death glares from the big bad boys who are apparently so bad ass they are fucking scared of a 10lb dog.
Somewhere along the way, my husband started to agree with me.
So we began looking for something that wasn’t an apartment. Duplexes and houses. A duplex didn’t thrill me (still being attached to somebody else and all) but we did look at one that seemed extremely promising and was huge. The owner of it turned out to be a fucking liar about shit though and those hopes were soon dashed.
We investigated another duplex that was a cigarette smoke filled box of nastiness. Our bed wouldn’t even have fit in the “living room”.
Honestly I was at a point of giving up finding a place that matched what we needed. We needed a house or duplex that 1) We could afford. Being able to afford where you live is a big deal. Yeah I know, who knew. 2) Accepted cats and dogs. It was amazing how many would accept dogs but not cats and vice versa.
I told Ki at one point I was done… I felt a bit defeated. However, the next day when I felt the familiar prisoner-omg-my-neighbors-are-psycho feelings, I kept looking and eventually ran across an ad for a house out in the country in our price range. Ki called and on Monday we were set to look at it.
Prior to Monday I attempted to drive out by it. Oh hai Google maps, it turns out there is a big ass difference between north and south. I left civilization and was driving out in Amish land. (Yes seriously Amish land, you leave the area where I live which is almost out of the city but not far enough, it turns into awesome nothingness… but fields and farms and Amish people and even some gravel roads). I happily enjoyed the drive for sometime feeling completely exhilarated by being surrounded by nothing until I realized I was fucking lost. The house was nowhere to be found and I eventually found a road that was familiar that led me back to civilization. When I got home I realized Google maps had actually managed to fuck up. Impressive.
So Monday was my first time seeing the place. Honestly I was not expecting to feel anything about it but disgust. I figured it would be a poorly kept house out in the country that smelled of something I didn’t want it smelling of.
When we walked in though there were people working on the house… the insides smelled rather new and everything looked very fresh and clean. Brand new windows had just been installed and the whole place was light and airy feeling.
We were given the grand tour and the man and his wife explained the improvements they had been making and a bit about the place. I was immediately at peace with them, they were like speaking to an older aunt and uncle or something you had known all your life. There was an immediate connection as far as feeling comfortable went.
Out in the country it was. There was one house next door and a few more houses down the road, but for the most part, nothing. Cornfields. No cars going by during our visit. A yard. A huge porch. A deck. I felt a tiny bit sad b/c a large part of me had secretly hoped we would find a place that was closer to my family… this put us out a bit further than we lived now. But… I needed some freedom… beggars can only choose so much.
I could see myself in this place and that scared me because of the potential for disappointment. I felt like if we were rejected I really would give up. This place was looking perfect for the most part for our needs and we even clicked with the landlords… a no would just be way too much.
We continued talking and Ki filled out some paper work. After we handed it to the wife she looked over it while talking to us. She then turned to her husband and asked “well do you wanna go ahead and seal the deal”…
I nearly fucking squee’d. Actually, I think I did, along with a small hand clap.
I couldn’t believe it was real. I still wouldn’t believe it if we had not dropped off the deposit Tuesday, signed a lease, and told her apt office we were getting the fuck out.
There is a downside.. we will be moving into a smaller place. I don’t know if it is actually smaller square footage wise… but the way the space is divided up, it will present some challenges.
It was advertised as 2 bedroom. It is not. It has 1 very small bedroom and a “loft”. Much to my husband’s disappointment it is not a real livable loft. It’s more along the lines of if you were a kid you think it would be the most awesome bedroom ever type deal. I don’t exactly know what we are going to do with it right now.
The bedroom is very disappointing. It will be a challenge.. because our bedroom at the apts is well…. A nice size. I have a lot of shit in that room. And then the second bedroom.. all of Ki’s crap… and there is no true second bedroom now.
The bathroom… also very wee.
However… the kitchen & dining area is quite large and open. Very spacious. Probably 2x of what I am working with now. And then the living room… again… extremely spacious. Probably 2.5 of what I am working with in the apartment. And then the utility room is quite large as well. There is a huge porch and a nice sized patio. And then of course a very nice large yard and a storage shed. The living room throws me off a bit though because instead of carpet there is linoleum.. and it isn’t even neutral. I’m not sure of the logic behind it… sort of irritating but… I guess I will try to invest in some rugs.
We will have to buy a push mower (can’t afford a rider dammit)… and obviously mow the yard which we’ve never had to do before haha. It will be interesting to see who ends up doing that the most. We will also have to buy our own washer and dryer. Until we do we will have to resort back to the Laundromat and we might have to do that for a bit before we can buy a washer/dryer.
I am allowed to plant all the flowers and plants I want. Our new landlords also told me that if I wanted a garden, he would till me up one. Although it is too late for that this year, if all goes well and we are content there, perhaps next.
There are obviously so many pluses and things to be excited about, that my sadness seems unfounded and silly. But it still lurks, especially now that I have begun packing because well… I guess maybe it is natural to some extent to be sad about leaving a place you actually did begin viewing as HOME.
I think how I was going to turn my bedroom completely into the place of sanctuary and realize, I’m never gonna get to do that here. Or I think how hard I worked to get everything just so and how I was happy with it.. and no I’m gonna hafta do that again. It’s just emotionally hard to leave what I worked hard to create.
Talking about the new place makes me feel better. And thinking about all the things I’ll get to do and experience makes me feel better. Tonight I was at the store and realize… wow I can have a grill and a fire pot and I can decorate the trees with lights at Christmas, and I’ll have a hose to water my flowers with, and I can plant flowers outside, and next summer I can fill my porch with hanging baskets… and well… just all kinds of things to look forward to. I will be able to sit out on my porch and nobody will walk directly in front of my line of vision 2 feet away.
We will have neighbors who live next door, but they are child free currently and only have a small dog as well. Our landlord is also their landlord. But that is only 2 people on one side of us.
So I guess when I really think about it… I am very excited to move. It will just be very different. I’ll be able to look up at the sky at night and see the stars. I have missed that so much.

Turning Living Space into HOME

I’ve for some time, wanted to at least rent a house.  Apartment living felt like it was stealing a part of my soul.  Ideally of course I would like to buy a house, but you know, rarely do I get what would be ideal.

But lately… I cannot really imagine moving again at all, I mean for the current future, not forever or anything.   I think this apartment is the longest we’ve really stayed at once place since lawd… probably since we have been together.  When I first moved to WI we stayed in our first apartment only until the end of the year b/c it was mucho $$$.  For some reason though, it was one of our favorite places, I think mostly because it was our FIRST place together.  It just had warm fond memories of adjusting to life as a couple living together.

I remember unpacking my boxes of the few things I brought with me and situating them the apartment and combining my life with someone else’s life in a completely new environment.

In 2003 we started the year off in a new apartment… a place that seemed to hold a dark cloud for me.  I had initially liked it because I got to help agree upon it.  It had a nice sized living room, a HUGE kitchen, and 2 bedrooms/one bath.  It just never felt right though.  It is kinda weird because looking back over that time in my life, I think I was really dying just to get out of the place, and out of that state. I kinda just balanced on one day to the next, knowing if I didn’t get out of there soon I was going to lose my freaking mind.

I was only in WI for 2 years.  If you want to get technical it was actually a month or so shy of 2 years.  In some ways now, I think of going back there the way when I was there I thought of coming back near “home”… just curious what it would feel like, since for the most part I feel like I have totally forgotten everything about it.

I was never comfortable there at all, and my intention from the day I moved there was someday (and by someday I meant soon) getting back closer to my family.  Or anywhere else almost.  WI and I…. we didn’t get along.  At least not as far north as I was.

I learned to navigate the small city we lived in  as if I belonged there, but never felt as I did.  And apparently I carry an “accent” that made it so people knew I didn’t belong there.

We had made a trip back to IN after being up in WI about a year.  I was determined to move out of WI that year.  Our visit was about scouting apartments, making plans.  But a couple days before we were due to go home we were sitting out on my mom’s front porch at 2 am and I was bawling my eyes out as I felt like everything was shattering down around me because we just couldn’t do it this year.  We needed more time, more money, more plans.  I felt like somebody had ripped my heart out and was slapping me in the face with it.

But we talked and decided we would go back to WI and get serious about this.  And we did.  We opened a special banking account and started saving.  I however refused to go back to work at Eastbay/Footlocker.com working 3rd shift since I had honestly believed I would only be there until July or August and was only working it because I believed we would be moving.  It was saying goodbye to a really decent paycheck, but 3rd shift work was taking over my life.  I felt like my life consisted of answering phones and sleeping.

Kiowa started taking some classes at a branch of UW.  I pretty much refused doing anything that could constitute as the smallest possible root.  In fact I spent a lot of energy refusing to let this place become “home”.  I was constantly in a state of limbo, refusing to get comfortable. If I did that then I thought that I would have submitted, and I would not submit.  This was not “home”… this could not be “home”. You could say that I spent those 2 years almost always with a chip of some sort on my shoulder, seeing everything… every person, every experience… as a stepping stone to get to where I wanted to be, not things are they really were.

As fall turned into winter it was pretty clear that we were going to make our goal of getting to move in the spring.  I ended up taking an office job despite the fact that I KNEW we were going to get to move in a few months and that as pretty much as I was trained in I would be leaving.  I didn’t tell them that though, we needed the money.  This was my final stepping stone to “home”.

When we packed up the UHaul and that day we left… I left without looking back.  Much different than when I loaded up my few boxes and left IN the first time.  Both scenarios contained detachment, only this time the detachment was pure indifference, not the detachment I had used to protect my fragile state of emotions the day that I left IN.

Being where I wanted to be created an initial high, but I soon fell into a state of anxiety and depression when “home” didn’t automatically feel like “home” to me at all.  I felt like I had stumbled back into a life of strangers.  2 years had apparently changed the whole world and it was a hard adjustment back.

Our first apartment back we moved into an apartment unseen… which luckily worked for us.  It however continued to lack that homey feel.  A year later we moved into another apartment within the same complex.  It’s funny b/c these first two places, again they seem like blurs to me but then again a lot has happened in my life in the 2 years since we’ve been there.

The second apartment seemed a little more like home.  I guess it was having a little more room, getting our first dog there, planning a wedding, etc.

And then right after our wedding in 2007 we moved to our most current place.  It was a brand new building, and there was some thrill in knowing that no one had lived in our living space before us.  It was purely our energy.  The floors weren’t marred by someone else’s scuff marks, nobody had crapped in my toilet before (well I guess we don’t know what the construction workers were doing in here lol), nobody else’s dust was in my carpet….

It has taken me these 2 years to start to feel comfortable here… and committed to making it feel like not just a living space, but a home.

I think I kept attempting to keep apartment living feel like a temporary thing.  In my mind it felt like it was, but then I got to thinking… why?  It’s a bad way to live.  It does feel like some kind of limbo.  What is wrong with making this my home?

Finally I’m starting to feel as if there is a reflection of that now.  I’ve quit with “oh this & this will be better and I’ll do this like this when we have a house/bigger space” kind of feelings.  I’ve been more interested in working with what I’ve been given. Why shouldn’t I have things like I want them now?

I’m trying to embrace this as my space, not “temporary housing unit”.