Thursday, March 12, 2015

A Moving Experience

Moving. I'm moving. In case you live in Siberia and just got Wifi, I should tell you that this weekend, I'm moving back to Minneapolis from Rochester.

It's been a rough 18 months, to be sure. I've learned a lot about being a wife, being alone, and being a person without ready access to beautiful lakes and nomnom restaurants. However, if I'm being honest, moving has been a little more emotional than I thought it would be. I love our house. I love the fact that I have 4 awesome people in this town who are regularly amazing and sometimes similarly bored and let me hang out with them from time to time. I love that nothing in this town is more than 5 minutes away.

Still, I'm SUPER ready to get back to Minneapolis. If I ever saw those movies about that troll who wants that ring that all the hairy-toed little people have, I'd compare my feelings to that joy the troll has when he gets that ring. (I've literally NEVER watched Lord of the Rings, because that troll and the little hairy-toed people freak me out, but I feel like I kind of get the gist.)

Regardless of where I'm moving to or from, the fact is that moving is definitely the stinky pits.

Turns out, I'm PERFECTLY happy eating nachos off a paper plate with a side of bread buttered with a wooden spoon, in spite of the fact that I have 12 different nacho-specific dishes on which they should be served and at least 8 different kinds of spreaders courtesy of Crate and Barrel. Oh, and spoiler alert: Wine tastes the same out of a plastic cup as it does out of any one of the 8 different types of wine glasses I have. And as much as I love all the clothes in my 4 enormous IKEA bags, turns out I'm totally fine just wearing the few items I've packed into a single suitcase. Also, all my Kate Spade boxes (which I have embarrassingly saved and kept in yet ANOTHER IKEA bag) seem less beautiful when I have to figure out how to fit them into a Subaru Impreza.

So yeah, I have way too much crap everywhere, but it's pretty so I love it! :)

However, it does not escape me that moving with a man is THE. WORST. Granted, I haven't done this before. I've always been extraordinarily immature and individual about moving. I move MY stuff only and ONLY when my mom and sister come over to pack for me.

No more! I'm a wife and grown up now, so I've gotta step up. It kind of sucks because when you move with a spouse, you can't throw away a box of "probably useless documents." You have to pretend it's important to you. You have to look at a Tupperware that has 2 sweaters in it and be like "Is this something you want to save even thought it's incredibly inconvenient?" instead of being like "DOESN'T FIT, THROWING AWAY!" In my moving life, I just throw away stuff that doesn't fit in whatever box I happen to have at the time. Bummer when Geo's like "Yeah, those are my fall golf sweaters. Don't touch that."

Also, he doesn't obsessively wrap every piece of glassware in 23 pounds of paper, so I regularly have to ask him to buy more and more paper and boxes.

Part of me -- actually, an increasingly enormous part of me -- wishes that I would have left all our packing to Geo. He would probably have gotten it done WAY faster and in WAY fewer boxes than me. But I would like to think there would be way more broken vases and mis-categorized tidbit plates. Then again, there probably wouldn't. It's not like we are moving live organs across the Atlantic Ocean before the dawn of modern shipping.

I don't know. I guess in closing, I'll say this: I've been hard on Rochester. But it's been hard on me. It's been 18 months of goose-poop-filled lakes and hanging out alone a lot. And the pervasive amount of chain restaurants has just kind of kicked me in my already-dirt-covered face.

HOWEVER! I have found some amazing friends here, and have learned a lot about myself and my marriage. And for those reasons, I will feel sad tomorrow when we load our crap into a truck to take it back to Minneapolis. I will look out on our patio and think "I won't see these deep dark skies and bright stars at night anymore," and I will dance around in our 2nd bathroom because who knows WHEN we'll have a place with two bathrooms again?

But more than anything, I will remember that I don't need 90% of the Crate and Barrel $hit I registered for.

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