connecting them

well.
I've made it.
one half of the jordans has landed on the west coast.
Brent follows me tomorrow.

over and over I've worried,
have i prepared enough?
have i researched every single rental company there is?
do i have all the paperwork?
the right documentation?
what am I forgetting?

i am usually such an optimist.
but this has felt so much like a dream to me
that the whole time I've been expecting it to fall away and disappear.

May my next blog post find me back to my normal self.
I'm in the Los Angeles area for an event and feeling out of sorts.
This city evokes none of the passion that San Francisco does.
But I am impressed by the sheer size of the palm trees over my head.

8pm pacific time tomorrow.
I will meet my husband and the SFO baggage claim
and he will take my hand
and we'll find the next dot on our map.

M

pretty things

Whenever I move to a new space
I can't help but to want to redecorate.
I do my best to keep my favorite pieces
and add new ones to make it feel like a fresh start.

This move is going to make redecorating a must
as the amount of space and how it's utilize require a lot
of forward thinking.

Everything needs to have drawers or be convertible.
We're buying a new couch so that we have an extra bed
when friends and family come to visit.
I've been searching for weeks and Brent and I finally settled on this one:


Yes, I know it's 1970's orange.
But we're moving into a WHITE WHITE WHITE apartment
and if i can't paint the walls, I want color in other places.
The couch folds flat to sleep two people.
I think it's the coolest couch this side of the 21st century.

Our bedroom will probably be the size of a walk-in closet.
I say that jokingly, but it's really not far from the truth.
Our beautiful dark wood sleighbed and dresser just won't fit,
so I recently purchased a darling, vintage headboard and mom is
letting us take my great grandfather's tall oak dresser.
I've picked out this bedding.
I know it's a little girlie,
but like I said before...we need color!
and nothing reminds me of an east coast springtime like cherry blossoms.


I'll have so much more to tell you guys next week.
Brent and I will arrive in San Francisco on May 1st.
We have so much to do while we are there and I'll be sure to take lots
of pictures of our new abode so that you can figure out
where you're going to put your suitcase when you come visit us ;)


M

A helping hand and a heavy weight

I feel God's hands on us now.
Opening doors and windows and roads for us
as we move our lives across the country.

In the weeks since we learned of our move
we've managed to sell Brent's car and get an offer
on our townhouse.

Brent's recording for his second album will finish up
right before we leave.
Our tax returns are giving us just the right amount of money
to cover the hefty deposit that city living requires.

Even with these blessings, I still find myself lying awake late into the night
thinking of all the junk that is looming in our pull down attic.
And all the furniture we need to sell.
and my car. We've decided to sell my car and buy a good used Honda.
No need to pay so much money for a car we'll only need one or two days a week.

Next week we will make our way across the US to go apartment hunting.
We have seven days to find our place.

I am a mix of panic and joy.
I am doing all I can to remind myself
that in time it will all fall into place.

M

Imaginary taxi fairy

I've always wanted to ride a train.
a real life train on the tracks- horn blowing train.
and recently I learned that there is one
that goes from San Francisco to Mountain View (where my office is)
every morning - and has wireless internet so that I can work on the way.
and the best part,
it's called "the baby bullet"

So instead of fighting traffic in the mornings,
I'm going to be sipping my coffee, taking conference calls
and answering my emails from the comfort of a southbound train.

and the train accomodates bicycles
(it just keeps getting better)
so my darling bicycle, Josephine
can carry me from the train station to the office.

I have all these romantic notions in my head
about sipping hot tea in the sunlight of our bay window
and laying in the park with our dogs
and riding trains and bicycles.

I know things don't always turn out the way we expect
but right now, I wouldn't be surprised if there was a hot air balloon
shuttle to the post office and a stage coach pulled by unicorns to take us to dinner in the evenings.

I also hear there are leprechauns in the sewer system ;)

M

Dog friendly?

On my many trips to SF, the one thing I loved was how dog friendly everyone was.
Many restaurants allow dogs to sit at their owners feet while they dine.
It's not unusual to see a dog trotting along behind a shopper with hands full of things to purchase.
Dogs on public transportation, city streets, taxi cabs.
I even found a group on craigslist that has a chihuahua only play group at a local park.

So now I'm searching neighborhoods for the perfect apartment.
There are somethings that are a must:
1. must be in or very close to downtown SF (this is fairly easy considering the city is only 7 square miles)
2. must be in a safe neighborhood (Right now we're really leaning towards Hayes Valley, Mission, Castro or Nob Hill)
3. must have hardwood floors and a bay window (just because everytime I've dreamed of living there, my dream place had hardwoods and a lovely bay window to watch the world go by.)
4. must accept dogs.

It is SO hard to find a place that allows dogs. Finding a nice apartment that allows dogs cuts our options pool by almost 75%. For such a dog friendly town, dog friend housing is a scarce commodity.

Then of course, there are the "nice to haves" like being close to public transportation, a parking garage close by, a dishwasher, laundry facility in the building, etc.

But for now, I'll just be happy to find a place that allows our fur babies. Even the places that do allow pets require a huge deposit, a pet RESUME, vet references and pictures. Thankfully our pooches are under the 25 pound weight limit.

Gibson, our little chihuahua/papillion mix is looking at me right now. For the past week I've been asking him "Do you want to be a city dog? Are you ready to be a San Fran puppy?" I'm certain his answer is yes... if only the city will be kind enough to let us in.

M

the things that stay.

I've been walking around my house with wide eyes.
trying to mentally decide what should come along
and what stays behind.

My grandmother's china, our new crystal cake plate?
Those certainly will be safer here than across the country
on a truck to a earthquake prone city.

But what about my birdcage
and how many pillows will we need?
Will we have room for all our pictures
and our boxes and boxes of books?
Do we take the Hemingway and leave Neruda anthology behind?

I don't know where to start
or how to stop making these mental lists.
Last night before falling asleep I contemplated
10 different ways to get my african violet and our cat safely across the country.

Most of our things will have to stay behind.
Left to fend for themselves in a storage unit or a kind relatives attic
for a few years.

This weekend I bought a pair of shoes
and last night while attending the concert of a native San Francisco musician (Vienna Teng)
I scribbled this in my notebook:


I bought a pair of yellow shoes
with the specific purpose of walking uphill.

Brand new city shoes the color of sunday

I will eat sandwiches in these shoes.
And leave them by the front door on rainy afternoons.

You will loose me in a crowd
and find me again.
A flash of yellow against the gray concrete.

I will dance to car horns in these shoes
most likely fall down in these shoe
brush myself off, laugh in these shoes.

One million steps,
chasing life in these shoes.

Going. The beginning.

"It's simply a very romantic place. Just one look at any of those streets, and you couldn't be anywhere else -- it's so beautiful, and there's that location, and the sense of the free spirit. Who couldn't become ravenous in such a place?"

~Julia Child about San Francisco

I am going to keep telling this story,
so if you'd care to listen,
I hope you'll come back again.

Let me tell you how this all started.
I was born in Raleigh, North Carolina.
I was raised 25 minutes outside the city.
I went to college 4 miles from the hospital I was born in.
and when I graduated, I had every intention of moving away.

But somehow, I landed this really fantastic job.
And the company was headquartered 2 miles from my house.
A half a billion dollar a year company, with 55 worldwide offices,
and I go to work in my backyard.

7 months into the role, they sent me to San Francisco.
I was expecting the same sort of vibe and buzz I had seen in other large cities.
Public transportation, an endless landscape of skyscrapers and coffee shops,
taxis, homeless people, moving moving moving.

But when I stepped foot on the sidewalk,
I learned I already knew the city.
I knew the faces that passed me on the street.
I knew which sandwich place would be my favorite.
Without knowing why or how, I knew the smell, the energy, the taste of the city.
It was like meeting the love of your life and knowing it immediately.

And so my love affair with San Francisco began.
I spent every hour that I wasn't working, just walking.
Wearing the soles off my shoes up and down the streets.
I'd wake every morning early, grab a cup of coffee and my scarf,
and find a tall building to lean up against.
I'd sit quietly for 20 minutes watching people pass on their way.
Meditating on the life of the place.

As the years passed, I found myself going back more often.
Thankful that a vast number of technology expos and conventions are held
at the Moscone on third street.
Airplanes across the sky, taking me back to the arms of my city.

Brent couldn't take my mad ramblings any longer.
It was time he understood.
The next time I had business in San Francisco, we bought a ticket for him to go along.
Just wait... I said. I wanted him to just know it. Feel it too. more than anything.

As I spent my days under the florescent lights of a convention center,
he was out walking the streets. Just as I had done before.
He was breathing in the life. Falling in love. Understanding.

How can we do it? We kept whispering at night before closing our eyes.
How can we make it happen?
I spent months researching jobs but didn't see anything that really felt right to me.
And so we began to band-aid ourselves against the realization that maybe we'd never make it.
We love Raleigh.
Love the charm of our small city, the joy of friendships, the closeness of family.
We had nothing left to discover here. But it was comfortable and happy.

We starting looking to buy a house.
Ready to admit our defeat and settle into a place with a nice backyard for the dogs.
Deep down inside, both of us knew the truth.
and we just kept on saying prayers

We kept looking at houses.
Nothing seemed perfect. Nothing screamed “I'm your house! Buy me!”
and then, like a speeding train...
news.
There is a marketing position opening in our West office.
And just as quickly. “It's yours. Pack your bags.”
I came home that evening and said... we're moving, I said. we're going.

It's a dream realized. And we're constantly pinching ourselves.
Currently, we're research what downtown neighborhood best fits us
and how much can we afford for an apartment.
There is so much to do here.
So much material stuff we need to shed before starting our new adventure.

Currently, I move between overwhelming excitement and the fear of leaving all I've ever known behind.
My friends are everything to me.
Who will I laugh with over a cheese plate and a bottle of Rioja?
Where will I go when I just want to listen to music and eat candy and feel warm?
My husband is my heart, but I need the love and support of my friends almost as much.
The light of my parents and grandparents, how long will it be between our visits?
I need to find a new pet sitter. A new hair stylist. A doctor.

So much newness ahead of us.
So many undefined things.
And yet, I find comfort in what is defined.
I have my husband, and my animals, and my bicycle – all together in San Francisco
And I'll still chase dust bunnies around our hardwood floors,
and complain about how long Gibson takes on potty breaks
and ask Brent to sing to me before we fall asleep.
We'll be in love. In the city we love.

We have so much to do before the end of June.

M