Day #2: Boise to Grand Junction

Saturday: Boise, ID to Grand Junction, CO

Today was my second full day on the road. Second of 6. I am thankful I have a week in Dallas in between Day #4 and Days #5 & #6. I started out in Boise after about 7 hours of sleep. Not the 8 or 9 I could have used but combined with my adrenaline and determination, it sufficed for the day. I am proud to say I had an on-time departure and on-time arrival. I am not proud to say that I ate Wendy's twice in one day! At least it wasn't McDonald's right?

Why twice? Well, the first time was in Utah during my lunch stop. I choose Wendy's for lunch because it is good and healthy (Ultimate Chicken Grill and water to drink.) For dinner I chose Wendy's again because I was hungry, it was late, and the pickin's were slim. Dinner was not as healthy but I suppose it could have been worse. Tomorrow I promise to try something different.

Why were the pickin's slim? Well, Grand Junction didn't exactly work out as planned. Apparently the last weekend in July it is a very popular spot for weddings, swim meets, family reunions, you name it. No rooms. NO ROOMS. I eventually found one at the Comfort Inn for $150 bucks. I politely declined and saved my scoff until I was back in the car. Thank goodness for iPhone. iPhone saved the day! It found me a hotel just a few miles away for less, with free Wifi, and a complimentary hot breakfast! It was more than I wanted to pay but at least I got a room and it is really nice! Flat screen TV, microwave, refrigerator, nice courtyard. Oh, and all of those families and kids littering the lobbies and streets of Grand Junction? Well, they are being loud in Grand Junction right now and I'm a few miles away. Ahh. Plus, a thunderstorm rolled through just as I settled in. Perfect!

I've been tweeting away with updates and pictures. Here are a few others from today.

Friday/Day #1

Day 1: Seattle, WA to Boise, ID

Friday was hard. I only got about 5 hours of sleep and had to finish cleaning and closing up my apartment, get on the road by 9:30 so I could make it to Boise in time for dinner, and try to check in with work during my lunch pit-stop.

I took a “moment” right before I left my apartment for good. I looked outside at the city but it was blanketed in some of the densest fog I’ve ever seen in the summer. It’s like it was hiding from me, shielding me from its beauty and appeal. “No, Eme Ashe. I’m not here for you anymore.” I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, smiled, and left. My usual route to the freeway just didn’t feel right so I opted for the on-ramp less traveled. I did have a moment of fear and sadness but it was brief.

The particular on-ramp I chose isn’t really an on-ramp, it’s basically a street, a stoplight, and then BAM, you’re on the freeway. It’s what I needed, like diving into the deep end of a pool, rather than starting with one toe, or one tire in this case. Just before I went through the stoplight, when I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it or if it was going to turn red, my moment started. An involuntary surge of emotion rose up from my stomach into my chest and head. It was the same feeling of fear, uncertainty, and excitement I felt as a child when it was my turn to slide down the water slide. Sitting at the top, waiting for the child who went before me to hit the water alive, I would be feeling all of those emotions. The lifeguard would signal and then I was off. Well, the light stayed green and I was off.

I merged onto I-5 and immediately started bawling. It just happened, I couldn’t help it. Even though the fog was working overtime to hide the city from me, I knew it was still there. 9 years of memories flooded over me in 9 seconds. But by the time I merged onto I-90, a mere mile later, I was fine. It was just a moment. I had a few more of those moments as I drove to Boise and I’m sure many will follow in the future. It’s more than fine, I am allowed to be sad. I am happy I feel sad. I don’t feel sick and that is a good thing. When I left Seattle the last time I felt like I was going to throw up as I drove over Snoqualmie Pass. No such feeling this time. I took in the beauty of the mountains for one last time and barely noticed when I reached the summit. It’s over.

My first destination was Boise because it gave me the opportunity to visit with some friends, T and C, say goodbye, and as a bonus, it was on the way! C made us all a delicious dinner – the man was smoking chicken on one charcoal grill and grilled vegetables on the BBQ, all while making me margaritas. Then he did the dishes! Seriously, what a catch. Unfortunately, with the small amount of sleep, the stress of the day, being taxed from the drive, and well, a margarita or two, I was only awake at their house for a few hours. I don’t remember falling asleep. Bed, pillow, head, out.

Thursday

Thursday did not go as planned in every aspect but it worked out well. First, I went to work – on time, might I add. Worked a full day, cleaned out my office, said goodbye to co-workers, figured out details for my week in Dallas and for my home office. My HR team took me to lunch, during which I had the most delicious chicken sandwich at The Met. Why did I never go there before for lunch? Why did I wait until my last day in Seattle? Oh well, at least I went. I was the last person in the office Thursday night, which felt right. I took my time, left notes for my team, and took in my last moments there. I was caught off guard by my feeling of sadness when I locked my office for the last time but it was there.

My last meal in Seattle was determined a few weeks ago. It all goes back to my first night alone in Seattle, sitting in my single dorm room, hungry. I didn’t know anyone or anything but I did know where the University Village was, so off I went. I stumbled across a little pizza place called Delfino’s where I ordered a deep dish, personal pepperoni pizza. It took 20 minutes to make but they assured me it was worth the wait. I strolled through Barnes and Noble, walked around the U. Village, and eventually picked up my pizza. A few minutes later, there I was in my single dorm room, eating my first meal of my new life. I’m sure you can see where this is going. Amidst the chaos of my Thursday night, Martine did a wonderful thing – she went to Delfino’s and picked us up two personal pizzas for dinner. Mine was pepperoni, of course. We sat on the floor of my balcony and took in the view of the city and the deliciousness of our pizzas. It was a quick dinner, a sad goodbye, but a great Seattle moment. I forgot to get a picture of said moment or of me and Martine, but I did get a picture of my pizza! The rest of the night was busy. First, I sold my TV - to my boss! I should have known, why didn’t I ask her first? It didn’t fit in the Relo Cube and trying to conceal it in my car just didn’t seem right but selling it to my boss was perfect. I also got rid of my dresser, which was a load off my mind. A co-worker sent her sister to pick it up – even better. After my Seattle/Pizza/Martine moment was over, I hauled arse over to Bellevue to make the TV delivery. I promptly got lost as I got off the freeway and didn't show up until 9:30. The late hour was no deterent to my boss as she invited me in, served me a glass and a half of wine, and talked with me until almost 11:00. My boss is great, I enjoyed having that time with her, but I can't help and laugh when I realize my last hours of my last day in Seattle were spent with my boss, at her house, drinking wine. It's just not at all what I expected.

The rest of the night was spent frantically cleaning, creatively diposing of my cheap TV stand, and trying not to freak out that I was in fact leaving Seattle. I accomplished it all, even the latter.

Wednesday

Here it is. The box that holds all of my stuff. My furniture, my clothes, my cookware, my books. Please box, don’t get lost! Special thanks to D, B, and E for helping me pack this sucker. I’ll take a picture when we open it in Virginia to show just how great a job we did. The packing process took about 2 – 3 hours, with each hour alternating between, “Eme Ashe, there is NO WAY everything is going to fit,” and “Oh yeah Eme Ashe, we got this. You can take EVERYTHING!” Basically, everything I wanted to take did fit. My TV didn’t make it but I am going to try one last effort to sell it and then maybe find a creative way to haul it in my car. Though, I am afraid it will end up being obvious and make my car a target. Definitely don’t want that. The night ended with Fish 'N Chips at the Traveler with E for a "thanks for helping me pack!" dinner. E might move to North Carolina too! C'mon E! Do it!

The countdown is almost over. One more day. ONE MORE DAY. I am freaking out.

Tuesday

Got a little sad today and a little stressed. And a little Charlie! I have been so focused on saying goodbye and getting my apartment ready that I didn’t realize how much of my actual work, (as in getting paid work, the whole reason I can move work,) is piling up. I’m not neglecting it, but it seems to be multiplying. In many ways it would be easier to leave without a job to balance. Of course in many other ways it would make life all the more difficult.

I said goodbye to L tonight and as we hugged she said, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” It was very sweet and has made me think – what exactly am I looking for? And now, I CANNOT get that U2 song out of my head. “And I stillllllll, haven’t found, what I’m lookin’ for.” You know the one. And now it's in your head isn't it?

Charlie has graciously accepted my offer to adopt Fike, the Ficus. They can grow up together, strong and leafy. Thanks Charlie! Stay cute buddy! I took in my last view of the city from West Seattle tonight. I visited this viewpoint many time over the years. I have comforted friends here, I have cried here, I have watched fireworks here, I have said goodbye here. The last time I left Seattle I stood at the viewpoint, taking in the city, trying to decide what to do. Tonight, there was no decision, no real emotion. Pretty. Picture. Go. It was worth the stop. My crunchy bed is on the floor – I feel like I’m camping! (Not that I’ve ever taken my bed camping but you know what I mean right?) The Relo-Cube comes tomorrow and I am ready. Kitchen table is apart, bed frame is dismantled, bookshelf is on its way to the dump, mattress is covered, dishes are bubbled wrapped. Here we go Wednesday, I’m ready for you!

Monday

Monday set the tone for the week: busy. Balancing the logistics of a cross-country move is enough to keep me busy. Trying to stay on top of my job, wrap up things in my local office, get set up for a home office, and prepare for training next week, well, let's just say I'm busy!

The weekend was productive and tiring but somewhat leisurely and fun. This week and next will be quite busy, with a fun roadtrip in between. By the time I get to Blacksburg, I'm going to be a LITTLE tired. Just a little.

Monday I worked all day but was still able to accomplish a few things. My car was inspected at the dealer, got fresh oil and the stamp of approval for my cross-country drive to California. Even though I was a first-time customer, I didn't want them to think I was a last-time customer. Oh yeah, that's right - I'm going to California and coming back, no really, I am!

Monday night I spent with D & B making/eating dinner and watching that Monday night show I hate to say I love, but I do. I somehow talked them into helping me load up my relo-cube on Wednesday. Awesome. I get help, they get free dinner, and we can prolong our goodbyes a few more days. Plus, I forgot to take pictures so we'll have to do that on Wednesday!

No time to feel anything but sheer panic and exhaustion at this point. Good night!

Sunday

Today was filled with more cleaning and packing. My mattress is prepared for the long haul with a waterproof cover and a plastic cover over that. It is going to sound a bit crunchy for the next few nights but at least I can pee if I want to. (I wooooooooooooon't.)

I did manage to squeeze in some noteworthy activities. First, I paid my last month of rent. It felt so good I took a picture! I am still hopeful my apartment manager will be able to rent my place and return my check un-cashed. Either way it is a long awaited victory. Some friends gathered for a little going away BBQ. While Sunday night was a peaceful night at the “beach,” we were all a little tired. We did manage to play a few games of Kubb. I won once and lost once. Seems fair. Leaving Seattle is like Kubb, sometimes it feels so good and sometimes you just want it to be over. Martine made fancy rice krispie treats. Apparently if you double the butter and add salt, they actually turn into some sort of addictive substance. Mmm. Twins T and J made for a cute shot. They played with the big kids at the beach, cried if their hands got dirty, but overall had a good time. I couldn’t resist the shot from the back. Of course the view is something I will miss. Not many cities have a place I can live down the street from with a view like this one. Sometimes in a situation like this, full of mixed emotions, you have a moment. I had a moment tonight. After everyone left, I was walking back to my car and turned around to take in one last view. It was just so pretty and peaceful, making me feel sad and calm at the same time. A train went by, carrying passengers away from the city. The sun set behind the mountains, the end of the day. It felt very symbolic to me. If that moment was part of the Eme Ashe movie I would accuse the director of being obvious. It wasn't a movie, just me, taking in a moment.

Saturday

My last Saturday in Seattle was spent packing, cleaning, and packing and cleaning. Check out my extremely clean freezer. I'm quite proud. I've all but filled the dumpster at my building. There is just enough room for a load or two tomorrow. I'm happy to say, I am almost done. It may look like a jumbled mess right now, but it's not. Planning ahead worked out extremely well. Having started the packing and planning process months ago, I was able to pull everything together for this move in just over a week. So far, everything is going smoothly. Like clockwork. Precise. It's too easy. I'm nervous.
Here is my timeline for those of you who don't read the blog all the time or are tired of trying to decipher what I think I've said but in actuality have only thought. Huh? Right. I'm not sure I've been clear so here is the clarity:

Friday (July 30th): Drive to Boise. Spend the night with my friends T & C and their kiddos. Say goodbye. :(
Saturday: Drive to Grand Junction, Colorado. Shack up at a local hotel.
Sunday: Drive as far into Kansas as I can get, preferably close to Witchita. Spend the night. Preferably in a witch-free hotel.
Monday: Drive to Dallas for training for my new job, meet my new team, and see the infamous national headquarters of my LNPO.
Tuesday - Friday: In Dallas for training. Hotel and meals all week are on the LNPO. Woo-hoo!
Friday night (August 6th): Head out. Drive to around Little Rock or before. Find a hotel. Sleep.
Saturday: Either 1) drive until I make it to Blacksburg, then pass out. Or 2) Drive to about Nashville or so, spend the night, and finish my journey on Sunday.

Whew. I'm tired just thinking about this. It should be quite the adventure! So far, I am going it alone. If you want to be spontaneous, let me know! Though, the thought of flying somewhere, driving for 2 or 3 days, then flying again doesn't exactly sound fun.

I don't feel sad yet, I think I've been too busy packing and cleaning to focus on how I feel. Though, I think it feels good. I feel relieved, even though it doesn't feel completely real yet. I feel safe, too. Knowing that I am moving in with the 'rents for a little bit, to a place I'm familiar with, in a low-pressure situation...well, it's what I need to heal, breathe, and refocus myself for the next 9 years.

Now, the question is...what to do with Fike?

Green means go

I don’t care about the color of your skin, if you’re plump or boney, if your hair is red, black, blue, or purple. I don’t care what kind of car you drive, how much rust is on it, or how shiny and clean it is. If you’re a bad driver, you’re a bad driver.

Seattle drivers would not survive on the east coast. You would be run off the road, sworn at, and shown the middle finger so many times you would swear people on the east coast only have one. Your commitment to left lane slow cruising would be challenged by tailgating, light flashing, horn honking, and, if you’re brave enough to look in your rear view mirror, swearing and arm flailing from the driver behind you.

You would start signaling your turns, you would stop slowing down to look for parking spots with blatant disregard for everyone else, you would pass bicyclists in a reasonable amount of time, you would start accelerating when the light turns green, or maybe even before. You would stop getting two inches from the bumper in front of you when it is making a left turn, you would actually go around said left turning vehicle when there is in fact ample room, and you would stop making that left turning driver feel bad simply for turning, while subsequently feeling bad for you for being such an idiot.

Oh, and that’s just the start. Let’s talk about the speed limit. Apparently in Seattle it is just a suggestion. In reality, you don’t need to even get close to the speed limit. I mean, why accelerate if you’re turning in half a mile? Right, it makes no sense to approach the speed limit when you’re just going to use your brakes again soon. Just coast along, going 15 or 20, there is indeed no one else on the road but you.

Ah, I miss the fear inducing lane changes on the Beltway of DC. The sun shining, the cars zooming past me, crossing over eight lanes of traffic to get to my exit. Or driving in Boston during the Big Dig when I actually held my breath, closed my eyes, and hit the gas after waiting to get into traffic for 20 minutes. That is fun driving; that is how you get places and have a good time doing it. Not here. Here I go about two feet before I have to hit the brakes to stop at a red light, for a bicycle, for a pedestrian, for a slow driver, for someone trying to find parking, for someone going well below the speed limit, or for some other, unidentifiable reason. It’s enough to make me not want to get behind the wheel. And that, my friends, is a problem.

Goodbye slow, rocky, cement, rain catering freeways. Hello smooth, asphalt, fast moving, interstates!

Regret? I choose no.

When I look back, there are many things I wish I had done differently. And there are a few things I regret. I won’t name them; that would be depressing. Is wishing I had done something differently and regretting a decision the same thing? I don’t think so. Wishing I had done something differently seems to come from future learning. It’s more of a, “If I knew then what I know now…” kind of thing. A decision I regret is an educated choice I make fully aware of the consequences and then later realize those consequences are in fact what I thought they would be.

There are a few decisions I have made that I consciously, intentionally, decided I would not regret. Again, I won’t name them. I said to myself at the time, “I’ve done my research. I understand the potential consequences. I realize I could feel regret for this choice. I am choosing to never let myself regret this decision. I know I can’t change it. I know I can’t go back. This is my choice.” It sounds dramatic but it’s not. It’s really about taking ownership and responsibility for a decision and not letting myself hate myself for it.

You’re dying for examples, I know. Too bad! You’re wondering, “Where is Eme Ashe going with this?” That I can answer.

Moving away from Seattle this time is something I could regret. I know what I am giving up. I love it here. It has been my home for nine years. I love the beauty of this part of the country; I love the variety of the city; I love the weather. At the same time, there are a lot of things here I wish I had done differently. I can choose to look back on Seattle as nine years of learning or one decision to leave as regret. I choose the former.

I am choosing to look out my window right now at this beautiful city, with a beautiful sunset, with no regret. I can do that. I am empowering myself to do that. It’s not easy, but I can do it. I am so glad I came, and left, and came back, and left, and came back. Now it’s time to leave. I don’t regret this decision. I won’t regret this decision. I have taken nine years to make sure this is right.

I’m sad. I’m scared. I’m alone. I’m at peace. Goodbye Seattle! I love you!

Bryan with a why

I'd like to take a moment, or a post, to honor my friend Bryan. Today would have been his 34th birthday.

Bryan is one of the first people I met in Seattle. We met in a Cognitive Psychology class, the whole reason I was at the University of Washington (UW) in the first place. I needed the class to graduate and my tiny college wasn't offering the course for another year. I found the class at the UW, signed up for it, and others, during Summer Quarter 2001, and well, you know the rest. I'm sure he approached me, in the hallway during one of our breaks. He liked to talk to people, to meet new people, to learn and grow. He was nice, went to a Lutheran church, and we had enough in common to become friends. So we did.
He walked me back to my single dorm room, invited me to church, introduced me to people, showed me his favorite places on University Avenue, and made the summer seem to stretch on forever. We watched the fireworks at Gas Works park on the 4th of July, walked along the Burke-Gilman trail, went to a worship service every Tuesday night at "The Inn," and of course, studied Cognitive Psychology. He humored my family when they were in town, riding the "Spirit of Washington" dinner train with us. I hung out with his parents when they visited, taking in my first Mariner's game.

He taught me about compassion, sharing his granola bars and fruit with the homeless. He didn't flinch when they turned down one thing or tried to be picky. (I, of course, was appalled. "Really? That guy didn't want your granola bar? He had the nerve to toss it back to you?") Bryan was a few years older than me and had been through a lot. His father was in two serious accidents resulting in paralysis. His mother was morbidly obese. He was the baby of the family, grew up in Idaho, and found trouble with the law. He spent some time in juvey before finally pulling himself together, moving to Seattle, and going to college. He was a marathon runner, a triathele. He was kind. He had a twinkle in his eye that held humor and mystery. He had a smile you couldn't help but return. He volunteered to build houses and lead church groups. He gave and gave and gave.

In all fairness, sometimes he was a pain in my ass. We often clashed and disagreed. He was nice and polite; I was young and rude. I think we taught each other a lot over the years. I like to think I inspired him as he applied for graduate school and moved across the country to Pennsylvania to pursue his doctorate in Physical Therapy.

He moved east, I moved west, and our paths stopped crossing. I thought about him sometimes and found myself looking at pictures of him one day in March of 2009. That night I had a dream about him. It was dark, he was working with a group of youth, I saw him, avoided him, and started to run away. He chased me down, hugged me, and told me he loved me. Closure to that friendship in the form of a dream. Weird. Must have been the pictures combined with whatever I ate that night.

The next day, I Googled him. How else do you find people these days? What I found was not him, rather his obituary, complete with photo. There was no mistaking it, he was dead. My heart skipped a beat, then another when I realized the date. He had died exactly one year ago to the day yesterday - the day I had the dream. Whoa. Was he saying goodbye? Did he know I was about to find his obituary? Did he want me to have closure before I knew? Is that kind of thing possible or am I crazy? Was that just a coincidence by definition and nothing more? I'll never know.

Dead. March 2008. "As a result of injuries sustained in a tragic fire." I'll never forget that line. He was 31. As if that wasn't tragic enough, he also had a son who will grow up without a father.

My best memories of Bryan are from our trip across the country. After the end of Summer Quarter we drove from Seattle to his parent's house in Lewiston in separate cars, with the intent that he would return to Seattle and I would venture on to my parent's then house in Georgia. Before we even got out of the city his car broke down, needed a new clutch, and left him with a rental. That rental car quite possibly never made it back to Seattle. He left it in Lewiston after making the spontaneous decision to accompany me across the country. We got stuck in traffic near Boise, drank Starbucks in Salt Lake City, slept in a field just east of Denver (though that sleep was short because I was afraid of being eaten by a coyote.) He drove through Kansas with the emergency brake on at 70mph for a good 15 minutes. We surprised his brother, who was stationed at Ft. Leavenworth. I left him there and drove the rest of the way without him. Good thing too because it turned out during the whole trip his driver's license was sitting on the counter of his parent's house.

I can say with complete certainty that my life in Seattle would have been markedly different if he and I had never met. When I moved back that fall (yes, just a mere 6 weeks after I left, a few weeks after September 11th,) he was the only person I knew in Seattle. I chose a place to live based on his location because it was familiar. Most of the friends I have here now stem from the roommates I had in that townhouse near him.

Bryan, I'm sad you died so young. You were on your way. Thanks for the memories, welcoming me to Seattle, being my co-pilot, and showing me a little compassion goes a long way. Most importantly, thanks for the goodbye.

Hit me with your straight shot

My clothes lined the walls of my bedroom, dust bunnies gathered in groups in the corners of my living room, boxes lay strewn about my apartment, I sat on the couch, sipping my coffee, taking it all in and then, my phone rang.

“Eme Ashe? This is your apartment manager. I’d like to show your apartment today at 3.”

I laughed. 4 hours and the clock was already ticking. I tossed my coffee aside and began furiously scrubbing and straightening in an attempt to make my apartment presentable to a potential tenant. I was successful. I can only hope this potential tenant fell in love with my straightened and scrubbed place as it could mean my August rent will be paid by someone other than me.

My place is so cozy and clean now, save the boxes piled behind the couch. The sun is out, the sky is blue, the laundry is quiet. Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all. I am now tasked with packing the remaining boxes and making a trip or two to Goodwill. I am picking out what clothes I want to wear for the next 3 weeks, trying to find the balance between chilly or temperate Seattle, dry and hot Dallas, and humid and warm Virginia.

"Errrrrrrt.” (That was the sound of tires squealing on the cement. What, you didn’t get that?)

“Virginia? This is Eme Ashe – EME ASHE. ASHE = Asheville. What gives?”

I just couldn’t get past the practicality of moving in with my parents for a little while. So that is what I am going to do. Yes, I’m a little nervous. I’m 31, moving in with my parents, working at home, in a town where I have no friends. I could go crazy. I could drive my parents crazy. We could all end up hating each other. I guess we’ll see what happens! At least I will be able to save some money, spend time with my family, not be stuck in a lease if indeed my “trial” position doesn’t work out, but most importantly, I won’t be stuck in a place I hate in a town I’ve never been. This way I will be able to drive to Asheville on the weekends, scope out the area, and decide 100% for sure that I want to live there and take my time finding a place.

Hey, I never said the road from the Emerald City to Ashvegas would be a straight shot.

What was I saying?

What was this blog supposed to be about again? Oh right, my huge life transition. Truth is I’ve been trying to avoid the topic until I had something concrete to say. The first few weeks of blogging was so up and down I wanted to stabilize things. Well, I am anything but stable so here is the update.

I’m moving. It’s hitting me. I scheduled my Relo-Cube. It’s official. I’m moving. In 2 weeks. Maybe. Picture a computer system for the space shuttle (well, the one in my mind) where you have a whole line of buttons, small, round, green. They represent each thing you have to do to get things ready for takeoff. Space Shuttle packed? Check. Freeze-dried food? Check. Duct tape? Check. In this case, it's a little different. Relo-Cube ordered? Check. Boss informed? Check. Parents preparing suite in basement? Check. Packing underway? Check. Now it’s just the matter of completing the list, hitting each little green button until they are all lit up. Then, the big, red, square button. Takeoff.

This is happening fast but in many ways, I have been ready and waiting for a year. The lost year. Suddenly I am hitting warp speed, waiting for everything to come to a crashing halt. If you’re feeling lost in space, you’re probably not alone. This week momentum picked up. My new boss asked me to come to Dallas the week of July 26th. My current boss said that was too soon, and I agreed. So, I’m going the week of August 2nd. In my mind, Dallas is on the way to the east coast. And it is, sort of. To me, it just makes sense to stop in Dallas for a week to train for my new position, then keep on heading east. Sure, it’s a few extra hundred miles in the long run. But it’s better than flying there for a week, flying back to Seattle, then taking a full week off, two weeks into a new job, to move.

That’s my plan. I’m hitting the green buttons until I find an error or hear the alarm. I’m moving in 2 weeks. Maybe. That's all I know about that right now. When the red button is lit, you'll be the first to know.

Weather baby

I haven’t mentioned the weather on here in days! I am so proud! I’ve talked about balloons and spiders and going crazy but nothing about the weather! I didn’t blog on Friday when it took me about an hour to figure out why the heat felt a little funny, (there was a touch of humidity!) There was certainly a lot I could have said about that. I didn’t blog on Saturday or Sunday to say how amazingly perfect the weather was. And Monday, wow, I didn’t say anything about how gray and downright cold it was or how I could have worn a turtleneck sweater and still been cold. That’s pretty good. I am very impressed with myself for not mentioning the weather on here anymore. Weather is such a good thing to talk about because we can all relate to it plus it dictates what we wear and often how we feel. But since I’m not talking about it on here anymore I guess I won’t mention how nice it is out today and how the whole week was perfect. Or how if the weather was like this all year round no one would ever leave. Or how perfect the weekend is going to be with sun, low humidity and highs in the 70s, blue sky and the water twinkling in the sunlight.

I have good news! I found out recently that one of my oldest friends is having a baby! (You know who you are.:)) I think it’s a girl and I think she will look like me. I can’t wait to meet her. (Or him, because if it is a him and in 20 years he is reading this blog on the 2030 version of microfiche I don’t want him to think I don’t love him because I said I couldn’t wait to meet “her.” Jeez!) Baby you-know-who-you-are is due in January. Hmm…I wonder what the weather will be like that day.

Please don't leave me

Dear iPhone,

I understand how you feel, believe me, I do. There are others out there younger than you, prettier than you, and well, let’s face it – they probably perform better than you do too. When we first got together it wasn’t easy. We were both going through a lot of change. You dropped my calls, but I didn’t take it personally. I had to adjust to your way of thinking and did so willingly. We made it then and we can get through this too.

I am committed to this relationship. I am not going to run out and find a younger iPhone to replace you. You just have to trust me. You're coming with me back east. You'll fit right in, they have iPhones there too. So please, PLEASE, stop flinging yourself off the counter, off my desk, off the bed, and off all the other structures you seem to be using to inflict scratches on and damage to yourself. And hey, what did you do to the hairdryer? It only works on the low setting now. Wait, did you break my computer??

It’s ok, iPhone; I forgive you. You’ve changed my life; please stop trying to end yours.

Love,
Eme Ashe

PS: This letter expires as soon as Verizon gets the iPhone and then you’re going on Ebay!

Busted

I could have busted my co-worker today. You know the one. The one that parks right outside the building everyday with her handicapped parking permit even though her foot healed from surgery a year and a half ago. Yeah, that one. We got in the elevator today. I pressed 2. She pretended not to be able to remember where she parked. I said, “2.” She said, “No I think 3 is better for me.” I should have said, “2. You parked on 2nd Avenue. Right out front. With your handicapped sticker. I saw your car.” I didn’t. I walked v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y to give her time to walk around the building to her car. I stood in front of her car. She took too long; I started to feel mean so I walked away. Gah! I should have busted her. Well, there is always tomorrow. I know where to find her.

That's a bunch of balloony

My life is a bunch of balloons, all filled with helium, ready to float away, high into the sky. The only thing keeping them from doing so is my firm grasp on their strings. I’m using one of those plastic things to keep them all intertwined. If I lose one balloon, I lose them all.

One balloon has work, which is already hard this week and it’s only Monday. I feel abandoned! My co-worker is on vacation and my boss decided it would be ok for her to take vacation this week too. So now I’m trying to do my job, trouble shoot my co-worker’s job, and hold down the fort for my boss. All while my new boss doesn’t get back to me on our timeline for transition, leaving me paralyzed from making actual, concrete moving plans. Argh. What's that sound? Is this balloon deflating? Maybe I should stop poking at it so much.

Another balloon has my mind and I think that string is slipping. What does it feel like to lose your mind? To watch it float away and take the rest of your life along for the ride? I bet it feels good. You probably start to lose touch with reality. You probably become unaware of how your actions affect others or the consequences they have. You probably don’t worry about your job, your future, your family, or anything. You probably eat whatever you want, don’t exercise, don’t stress about money, maybe not even pay your bills. And it’s ok because you’ve lost your mind! You get a leave of absence from work, go on disability for being crazy, then spend your days watching movies, sleeping, taking walks, and popping pills. It is actually starting to sound pretty good. Fine, I’m probably not going crazy, though I do feel like I better double knot that particular string.

I think one balloon has the past four years because I can’t seem to find them anywhere! Maybe that balloon floated away and is actually missing from the bunch. I don’t know where the last 4 years went. I feel like I blinked and suddenly it was four years later. There is so much I should have done, so many decisions I would change, so many relationships I should have nurtured, so much I should not have let slip away so easily. I guess this should be a lesson to me to hold on tight.

The smallest balloon has the next 4 years. I am just starting to blow that sucker up. It goes without saying that we can't change the past, but I'm saying it anyway. I can't change the past. I can't go back and do things differently or hit the pause button to catch my breath. I'm trying to take all I have learned and make the next 4 years something I can look back on with a smile. For starters, this balloon is blue and shiney, made with the newest balloon technology, and it has two strings for reinforcement. I'm not letting this balloon go. In fact, it is going to be big enough to swallow my work worries, my craziness, and my past. When I look up, I will see I am holding one balloon with two strings. Maybe I'll find someone else to hold the other string. Maybe I'll just hang on with two hands.

The Sandwich Tree

I would be remiss if I did not speak about my EAF/NELA/SLFA/Sallie Mae days in Seattle. By now you've probably gathered that getting into the workforce for me was no small feat. Graduating in August 2001 with a Psychology degree and the subsequent tanking of the economy didn't bode well for my immediate success on the job market. It took awhile.

In January 2003, after a vehement Eme Ashe defied her family's demands and returned to Seattle, a miracle occurred. I found a temporary opportunity only weeks into my third attempt at making Seattle stick. It was a 90 day assignment processing student loans. I think it paid $10.00 an hour or something close to that. I was elated. 90 days turned into 3 1/2 years. My supervisor realized she couldn't live without me and hired me on full-time after 10 weeks. She recognized my abilities and told me her goal was to get me, "up and out." And she did.

In August 2004 I was promoted into an Account Manager role. It was my first promotion, my first Exempt level position, my first feeling of, "ok, alright, I'm doing this adult thing, I'm going places." I met my new team. What a diverse group of personalities! We had N, who was pretty much coasting, despised by management, and simply biding her time. Then there was K, who was an overachiever, attributing meaning to every minute detail that in the end proved meaningless. It was her strength and her weakness. I would hire her in a second but I wouldn't want to be the one monitoring her blood pressure. L, well, at first L was sitting outside of the room that held the Account Managers. It was a physical distinction. Her job was different than ours and for some reason, that meant she had to sit alone. Sad. L, I would also hire in a second. Ridiculous attention to detail, reliable, hard working employee. Real, honest, funny, person. Last, but not least, is D. D was pretty much the opposite personality of everyone on the team. A morning person, almost always positive, usually very talkative...we needed her, my God we needed her. When the rest of us were too busy with our spreadsheets (K & L) or too busy being sleepy and cranky (me,) D was giving friendly customer service and providing the light we all need to lure us out of our spreadsheet/cranky caves.

Occasionally we would venture to the nearby neighborhood cafe, The Sandwich Tree, and feast on breakfast sandwiches, coffee, BLTs, or bagels with cream cheese and tomatoes, all while talking about the somewhat surly employees. This weekend I had lunch with D & L. It was a happy reunion; maybe a goodbye? We had our own Sandwich Tree complete with bagels, cream cheese, and tomatoes. Mmm.

I love you ladies! Thanks for lunch! Thanks for the memories! Thanks in advance for the future memories! I would hire you both - you are forever in my pipeline of candidates and friends. :)

Spy-ders

They are not spIders, they are spYders. I feel like they are spying on me. All of a sudden they appear as if out of nowhere, and sometimes they travel in packs. As I approach, they freeze. Don't they have like 20 eyes or something? They're always watching, calculating, planning, and then, BAM, trying to escape. Don’t worry, I am not going to post a picture of a spider on here. Ew. I just thought since they have come up in recent tweets and posts that they deserved a special mention.

Seattle has spiders like this east coaster has never seen. I remember flies, crickets, grasshoppers, cicadas (ew, those damn 17 year cicadas and their shell litter,) and centipedes. Gross. Centipedes are gross and fast. I always had to have my Dad kill them. Unfortunately, he was rarely (ok, never) up at 1:00 in the morning when they would run across the floor of the basement. Spiders? Oh sure, we had spiders. But we did not have spyders. These west coast, wood spiders are huge. HUGE. Like, huge. The last place I lived was a house with a basement. Error upon error. These spyders came in every oraface they could find. The ones in the basement and garage, well, *gulp*. There was one in the bathtub once that almost ate my roommate. Seriously, I am totally, in no way, at all using hyperbole.

I've learned a lesson over the years that came in handy last night as dualing spiders spyed on me: always have a can of poison. Always. I sprayed those suckers, they plummeted off the wall to their death, and I sprayed them again.

During grad school I had a somewhat nice, first floor apartment. One Friday night, I came home and in the hallway (thankfully, outside of my apartment,) was a hole in the ceiling, or so it seemed. It was large, mostly round, and dark. Well, I knew it wasn't a hole and I also knew it was something very, very bad. I wasn't sure what to do. I knew it was a spider, I just didn't know exactly how big. It was high up, too high for me to get close to, which really, was ok. I went inside, closed my apartment door, and stared at the "hole" through my peephole. My neighbor across the hall came out of her apartment, and as she was locking her door, noticed the spider. I kid you not, she ducked. DUCKED! I know this because I was watching the events of the hallway unfold through my peephole. So, what does she do? She leaves!

I paced around, my heart racing. I knew I could not leave this situation unaddressed. I drove to the store. I purchased poison. I drove home. I dragged my chair within a few feet of the beast. I climbed on said chair, pointed, aimed, and fired. And then darted away to watch. Ladies and gentleman, I wish for the sake of arachnophobics everywhere that I was exaggerating the course of this night or the size of the spider. It was the largest I have ever seen and I hope to never relive this experience. As it was realizing its fate, it stretched out to demonstrate its full girth. It traveled a few feet along the wall to show off. I watched live, through my peephole, then live again. My best, honest, hand on the Bible, estimate is that its leg span was six inches. SIX INCHES. Now, that includes probably an inch of body but toe-to-toe, I would say six inches. SIX INCHES. Thankfully, I lived to tell the story.

And the moral is, say it with me folks: always have a can of poison!

Laughter in the air

I just laughed at a candidate during our interview. I couldn’t help it, she was Anna Kendrick’s character from “Up in the Air.” I think she studied the movie for tips because she nailed it. I’ve laughed at candidates before but it’s usually more of laughing with them. This time, she was completely serious and I laughed, playing it off as a cough…I’ll never know if I was successful in my lame cover-up attempt but she didn’t seem to miss a beat. Wow. I started to ask her questions just to entertain myself. I’m a mean recruiter! In the end I may end up hiring her and she can change our organization from the inside out while learning a little about life in the process. Man, I think I need to watch that movie again tonight.

I’ve been thinking about my new full-time recruiting gig and it may re-direct my career long-term. I can see myself being successful specializing, rather than being a generalist and handling a bit of everything. Down the road I can take all the tips and tricks I know and share them with other people. I’ve often thought about working/volunteering at a college career center or working for an outplacement company. I don’t want to be the one “firing” people like George Clooney’s character in “Up in the Air” but I would love to help them transition, prepare their resume, and decide their next step. Someone with an I/O degree and a strong recruiting background would be good at that. Hmm.

I could do HR, work myself up the ranks, master employee relations, and hold a company’s entire liability on my shoulders. I could do that…then again, I’m not sure I want to. I’ve had the opportunity in my current role to grow and I could have exerted the initiative I saw in the candidate today to take on a lot more than I did. I’ve asked myself a few times, “Why didn’t I seize that opportunity to terminate that employee? Why am I suggesting that my boss handle this situation rather than tackling it myself?” Maybe, it turns out, the direction I’ve been heading was undetectably wrong. Now that I’m moving into a full-time recruiting role and taking on some college recruitment, things will change. My career path is a lot more up in the air, and I think I like it that way.

Here I go again

On a day-to-day basis my life is not very exciting. Anyone who has read this blog knows that. My current list of things-to-do includes goodies like, “make doctor’s appointment” and “drop stuff off at Goodwill.” Yesterday I cancelled my gym membership (that is one thing I can check off my list!) I realized it was my first real step toward ending my relationship with Seattle. No more gym. Soon I will need to find a new gym, and a new doctor, and a new dentist, and a new hairdresser, and a new bank, grocery store, post office, everything. It’s exciting and overwhelming at the same time.

I really am alone huh? When I look around my apartment at everything waiting to be done, it hits me. Who is going to take that table apart? Me. Who is going to get rid of that old bookshelf? Me. Who is going to scrub this place clean? Me. Who is going to dodge the spiders in the storage closet to clean it out? Me. I never thought I would be going though this life alone but I am. For the most part I really am comfortable in my singleness, my aloneness. Sometimes though, just sometimes, it makes me sad and it makes me angry. Where would I be if I was making life decisions with someone else? What would I have, what would I be doing? Who would I be? Why don’t I have my person? They could make me better; I could make them better. They could help me take apart the table; I could help them take apart the table. We could be moving together. Nope, it’s just me and that will have to be ok, and it is, most of the time.

I think the next few weeks are just going to fly by until suddenly, it will be time to go. I feel myself starting to get sad and a little scared. I’m used to moving (used to it and downright sick of it,) but I’ve lived in Seattle for 9 years. That is a lot of years. The last time I lived somewhere that long was Pittsburgh and it was just as hard to leave. I remember staring at the city from Mt. Washington, taking in the beauty of the lights, rivers, and bridges, trying to convince myself it was ok to leave. The city would always be there. Seattle will always be here (well, until the “Big One” hits of course.) I can’t remember the last time I was in Pittsburgh and I don’t know the next time I will be in Seattle. Here I go again on my own. Sing it.

"An' here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
An’ I’ve made up my mind
I ain’t wasting’ no more time"

Not talking about the weather

In light of my possible decision to post all weather-related messages elsewhere, I am going to try to not mention the weather at all in this post. Except that I already did twice. Dang it! What does it mean that I only have comments related to weather? Is it that interesting? That forever worthy of my constant attention? That dominant in my life? Apparently.

Insert sound of crickets chirping here.

I’ve been thinking about my first trip across these great United States. The speeding ticket/pseudo drug bust in South Dakota was really the best story and I’ve already told it. I do recall passing through Timothy McVeigh’s hometown the day of his execution. We (J and I) bought a paper. It was big news. From there we headed west and the highlights were really the Corn Maize and Wall Drug. At that time we were both still naïve enough to think these may in fact be interesting sights to see along our drive. They weren’t. Though, I do give kudos to Wall Drug for their commitment to advertising and anticipation.

The traditional tourist spot we stopped at was Mt. Rushmore. I found the faces carved in the mountain much smaller in person than I expected, or I suppose they appeared much smaller than I expected. Fine, maybe I thought we would get a lot closer than we did. I wanted to be nose-to-nose. We drove through Wyoming where the interstate is red, like millions of bricks have been crushed, smoothed, and laid to rest. Wyoming is pretty and everything you would expect: hills, grass, hay, fences, farms, cowboys, and a lot of wide open spaces. Ok, I’m not sure I actually saw a cowboy but it wouldn’t have surprised me to see one just riding on by. Classic country western music played in my brain the whole time I was in the state.

From there we drove across the oversized, under populated state of Montana for what felt like 100 years. It’s big. The sight of the mountains kept us going as did the knowledge of being on the verge of saying, and meaning, “We are almost there!” Our last night was spent in the Idaho panhandle, near the “French place” I now know how to pronounce, Coeur d’Alene (core-da-lane.) Finally, we made a brief stop on I-90 to take in the beauty of central Washington and the Columbia River. And while I’m sure J wanted to throw me off the viewpoint into the river below after traveling together for such a long time, we simply took in the view, took a deep breath, and finished the final two hours of our journey.

The End.

PS: Ack, it’s going to be 90 degrees today! Whew, sorry, I held out as long as I could.

Green bubble wrap!

Not taking the bus for awhile made me remember how much fuel for the blog can come from a mere bus ride. For example, this morning, while adjusting my seated position, my hand accidentally grazed the gentleman next to me. Grazed the side of his butt! I swear it was an accident. I almost commented to him, “Whoops! Sorry about grazing your butt there!” then thought better of it. I could try to turn this into a thoughtful metaphor for life but it’s not. Sometimes you are going to inappropriately, accidentally grope a stranger. It happens.

I’m back at work and I don’t feel stressed. The weather is perfect, my boss is at home, my co-worker is on vacation, and I can just take the day to catch-up. First things first, sign my offer letter and fax that sucker back to my new boss. Secondly, finish this blog post (What? I’m working on my follow through ok?) Third, read 300 emails. Fourth, take a walk in the perfect weather. Fifth, have a few meetings. Sixth, go to a special work event! Seventh, go home.

I’m in the home stretch here. During my days off I packed and packed and packed. I bought 100 feet of green bubble wrap from u-haul and it’s almost all gone! I would say I am 80% packed with just the essentials remaining. I have also taped off an area in my living room to represent the size of my Relo-Cube from ABF to make sure I can fit what I want to bring. If my 7 year old, crappy Ikea dresser doesn’t fit…hmm…oh well!

I’m ready to set moving dates, reserve my Relo-Cube, bribe my friends to help me load it, and get my next adventure started. Over the next 6ish weeks, my last in Seattle, I will walk around Greenlake, visit with friends, eat sandwiches from Paseo, revisit my favorite spots, and say “thank you” and “goodbye” to what has been my home for the past 9 years, all while occasionally groping strangers on the bus. Bliss.

Eme Ashe Weather

So...........I'm thinking about creating a special "Eme Ashe Weather" blog. But then what would I talk about here?

Out with the new, in with the old

85 degrees or higher is coming to Seattle this week. Summer is finally going to make an appearance. I’ll call it an appearance until I know how long it intends to stay. It may soon be classified as a visit, we’ll have to wait and see. Legitimately hot weather in Seattle means one thing: get a fan and get one now. So I did.

Over the years I have monitored the weather diligently through various mediums, beginning with the television, then the internet, and now via iPhone. If a heatwave is coming I know about it, and yet so many times I have waited until it was too late to buy a fan. I would wait until sweat was trickling down my back when exerting zero energy or until I had spent more than one sleepless night staring at the ceiling cursing the heat. I’m not sure what we do with our fans in Seattle but it seems the heat surprises us and we can’t recall where we have stored our fans or who we loaned them to. We have to go by new fans just to get through those few days of heat.

See, in Seattle very few people have air conditioning. If you go back and read through my weather posts you’ll see why. It rarely is hot enough to use a fan, let alone an air conditioner. (For example, it’s July 4th and still overcast, 59 degrees, and probably on the verge of raining.) There are, of course, those few days or weeks that, while we welcome summer with open arms, tend to make us remember why we don’t live south or east of here. In Seattle, the sun shines high and bright for long days. Houses and apartments bake all day long until the air temperature inside is higher than the air temperature outside. Without a fan, this leads to a sauna-esque setting throughout the entire living space. The nights are short and don’t cool much so until the weather’s “fever breaks,” well, life isn’t much fun.

Last year we had record heat. 104 degrees. In the 90s or higher for a week straight. My house was literally, (and I’m using the word literally correctly here,) 100 degrees. I slept on the floor of my kitchen in front a fan with the door open. I worked late every night to remain in the air conditioning; I tried making an air conditioner out of ice, a Styrofoam cooler, and a fan. I tried to buy a fan, or ten, but every store was sold out. It was awful.

Yesterday I made a preemptive strike, finally. I walked the fan aisle of Fred Meyer considering my choices. There were tower fans, small tower fans, dual window fans, rotating fans, turbo fans, and even fans with rain sensors. They were tempting but I had tried them before. I needed a fan that would move as much air as possible with a reasonable about of noise, for a reasonable price. My choice was clear. I didn’t need a fancy, new, circular, rotating, turbo charged fan. I just needed an old, square fan that pumps air through the room like water from a fire hose. I bought a classic box fan for 20 bucks and I may just go buy another.

Come on heat wave, I am ready for you this time! And fan, you and your soon-to-be-adopted brother are coming with me to Asheville!

Nine Years, Plus and Minus

I spent some time during my morning coffee thinking about my North West adventures. What have I done in this part of the country over the past nine years?

Hiked in the Olympics and Cascades, saw the Pacific ocean for the first time, swam in Lake Tahoe, gambled in Reno, drove across the Golden Gate bridge, sailed to Alaska, wined and dined in Vancouver, B.C., drank and danced at Oktoberfest in Leavenworth, WA, saw live music in Portland, bought some Twain at Powell’s, learned to love wine, coffee, microbrews, Thai food, and myriad other foods I would never have tried 10 years ago, learned to appreciate all different types of people, worked my first full-time job, got my Master’s degree, found my career path, got hit by a drunk driver, then got hit by another drunk driver, went whale watching, saw Mt. Rushmore, hiked at Mt. Rainier, camped at Mt. St. Helen’s, took in countless MLB and NFL games, ate good food, met good people, and overall had a good time. I’m sure there is much more but it is hard to sum up 9 years in a paragraph.

What do the next nine years hold? I suppose only time will tell. I would like to become a homeowner, paint my walls, know my niece and nephew, reconnect with old friends, kiss all the babies I haven’t met yet, fall in love with the east coast again, fall in love with someone, not fall out of love with someone, not have someone fall out of love with me, learn a little about photography, learn a little about Spanish, finish one of the novels I have started writing in my head, get better at my job, get better at giving, and maybe adopt a puppy or something else someday. That plus lots of football watching and a few road trips and I’m good.

East coast and the next nine years, here I come. Though, I will miss these sunsets.

What is blog worthy?

It’s been three days since I’ve blogged anything and that is the most amount of blog-free time I have allowed to pass since I started. It’s probably a good thing because I never wanted to set the expectation I would have something blog-worthy to say every day. Case in point, I have nothing blog worthy to say today but I am blogging anyway

Let’s see, today I am home, back in the city, back in my earplugs to block out the door slamming, the bus, the constant weed wacking, the dinging of the elevator, and everything else that involuntarily makes my shoulders hunch and my blood pressure rise. Oh sure, I am never happy and all I do is complain. True, but there are a lot nicer, quieter places than this to live and I have been kicking myself for the past 10 months for my poor choice. It’s my fault and it would be easier if I could blame somebody else, but alas, I cannot. Today I paid my rent for month 11, which thankfully means I have only one more month on my lease. I inquired with my landlord about getting out of that last month and, while it’s possible, it is a bit of a hassle and will probably cause my head to explode. I have a lot of decisions to make and rushing through them to get out of this place in a few weeks is probably not an added stressor I need to put on myself. So, I’ll saw off the rest of my left arm and leg and pay the rent for month 12.

That phone call I mentioned earlier did not go well at all. It lasted 17 minutes, which is not a good sign. I could tell the answers I was giving were not the right ones. In many ways I am pleased with this failure on my part and frankly, I didn’t try very hard. In fact, I almost cancelled the phone call. I need to focus on and commit to the life I have decided on, the letter I still need to sign, and the new, quiet, place to live I still need to find.

I am starting to stress about the cost of all of this. The Dow continues to plummet and my iBook is still dead, dead, dead. I thought maybe a few days of rest would magically heal it. I would come back from vacation, hold down the power button and hear that “click” of acknowledgment. No such luck. Eme Ashe is considering offering sponsorship opportunities. Like, want some advertising? I’ll put your company information all over my car for the drive across the country! I’ll stop in each city and hand out fliers! No problem! Or…well, actually that is my only idea so far but I am taking suggestions!

I found a three bedroom townhouse near Asheville that I could rent for less than I’m paying for my current one bedroom apartment. It is a little ways out of town but that is ok with me. It’s an end unit, looks small but nice, and the owner wants to sell it in a year or two. Perfect. I think with the cost of utilities it would prevent me from being able to save to actually buy my own place someday so it’s probably out of the running. I’m hoping he can’t rent it this month and is forced to reduce the rent in which case he will remember that I asked him to, “keep me in mind.” It also appears there is a brand-new, end unit, townhouse in that same community for sale. If only. Stupid me and my stupid financial incompetence and failure to plan more than 30 seconds in advance. I bet my mortgage would be less than this guy wants in rent. I have, however, decided that the townhouse lifestyle would be an excellent choice even if the location isn’t “perfect.” Low maintenance, few neighbors (end unit, end unit!) a small backyard to BBQ, probably three bedrooms so my family can visit, and I could potentially live there forever. I don’t see myself really needing or wanting more than that. I never want to move again, after this time of course. And frankly, one of my biggest fears is waking up in Asheville, in an apartment, hearing my neighbor doing laundry or slamming doors, and realizing that not only do I live here, I have to work here too.

Like, I said, this is not truly a blog worthy post but these are my thoughts from the past few hours and days. If you made it to the end I am impressed!