The Pod is an amazing invention

I've spent the last two weeks obsessing over the freaking pods that got delivered this morning. Where will I put them? How will I work this out? Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah! Mind chatter. I believe I used the word transference in a previous blog. Well, my amazing neighbors came to my rescue. Four of them gave up their parking spots, two blocked additional street parking, one traded me for my spot and another gave me the option of blocking her garage all together. All this, just so the pod people had options. I love my neighbors (roommates, as I often call them)! Now, thanks to them, the pods are here safe, sound and ready to be filled to the brim with all the crap I own. No muss, no fuss. Tomorrow a man will come and professionally pack it for me. I paid extra for this. I really hate moving.

I repeat: the pod is an amazing invention. Why someone didn't think of it eon's ago is a mystery. This big flatbed truck pulls into the hood. On the back, sit a row of pods and a forklift. The forklift lowers on a train-like rail onto the street. Its got wheels that go in every direction. It beeps really loud in reverse and probably wakes up the neighborhood. It picks up a pod and places it in the chosen spot (usually a driveway or parking spot). Repeat. The pods stay there until they are filled up. A call is made for pick up. They take them away, store them and deliver them when you call. Wallah! AMAZING. I am officially a fan of the Pod, people.

Renee

Tuesday

I can't believe it's Tuesday already and that I'm leaving next Monday. I'm sitting on my couch with my legs propped up on one of my two ottoman's for the final time. I am waiting, as I scarf down a Starbucks lowfat turkey bacon breakfast sandwich and wash it down with an iced venti americano (no bubble lids, no long straws please). Some girl is on her way here from Hollywood to pick up the ottomans and pay me a measly 10 bucks for both of them. What a rip off. A rip off I agreed to. My living room, aside from the mountain of home depot boxes to my right, is almost empty. My mom took the end table I was trying to sell on Craigslist, a girl and her mom came by and got my coffee table last night. Today I'm saying good bye to my ottomans/foot rests/desk chairs/guest chairs (all the same thing if you didn't catch that). It's the end of an era saying goodbye to them. They came with the first couch and chair I bought on my own (and am still trying to sell or give away). I will miss the ottomans in a "thank god they are gone" kind of way.

Recapping the weekend... Friday night I had dinner with a very close friend. The meal and conversation was great. The service sucked. You can't have everything. Saturday was my first going away party. It was lovely and beautiful and fabulous and touching and everything I could have asked for. I had so much fun and I am so thankful for all the wonderful people I have in my life. Yes, I cried, a little, when I had to say goodnight to a few people. But only because they all mean so much to me and its hard sometimes to reconcile that leaving doesn't mean leaving friends behind. It just means that things will change and, as usual, change is exciting and scary. So you ask, how do we get past the weepies? We wake up Sunday and go to a crazy fun Memorial Day BBQ. Burgers, beers, corn-hole (the game), shots, more shots, potato salad, jello shots, more corn-hole, strawberries, steaks, wine, spritzers. Yes, I'm that list only contains the things I took part in. I know what you are thinking... grow up? Well, it was a lot of fun and everyone behaved, which is kind of a miracle. Yesterday was spent watching movies recuperating in the lazy lair at Nat's (she lives upstairs).

So now, being that it is Tuesday, the sprint begins. I'm too serious about my "list" today to worry about my feelings. I'm actually happy for the distractions of the next couple of days as I think it will help keep my feet on the ground. Today I say good bye to upstairs Nat. Tonight I dine with some family. Tomorrow, THE POD ARRIVES!

Tuesday, the day before the pod arrives. Tuesday, the day I let go of the place I rest my feet. Tuesday, the day I arrive in Portland next week. Tuesday, today.

Countdown

It's hitting me hard this morning. I'm 99% packed, the good bye parties start tonight and I am a bit of a mess. I'm a bitch and a cry baby. Yep... messy. I've managed to be mean to my mom, cry on every phone call I've received this morning and all of it comes as a surprise to me somehow.

Tonight, I will be dining with 13 of my very good friends. It will be the kind of dinner party we all enjoy. Outdoors, in the warmth of the valley, wine and cheese followed by a three course meal and more wine. Everyone will laugh and I will most likely end up being roasted. I am going to miss these times.

This morning, my friend Chris reminded me that I should be feeling this way. "It may not seem like a big deal because you are going to Portland where you know people but you are in fact uprooting your whole life. That IS a big deal." My friend Terry told me I was "right on schedule..." with my morning meltdown.

I sucked it up and asked for moral support on Thursday when the movers come. I don't ask for help very easily or obviously. Terry offered morning wine or extra strong coffee. Chris offered to call in sick. At this point, I don't need any help with the boxes but I may need a friend or two to lift me up that day.

Don't get me wrong. I'm excited about this move. I am especially stoked about the road trip up to Portland (me, my car, the speed and my music on lots of open road). Today, however, I am sad to leave and say farewell to so many great people.

Renee

PS - Vickie has a visitor in from out of town for the week. You probably won't hear from her until after that friend leaves. Thanks for reading!

Why Portland?

As my final days in Los Angeles creep closer, the question of the hour seems to be, "Why Portland? What's there? A job? A man?" Each time I am asked that question it catches me off guard just a little bit. After all, I have said for years that I would "NEVER" return to Portland. Never say never, cliche as it is...

It started out as a seed. Someone close to me planted it. After several months of unemployment and job search frustration I of course listened and then promptly said "no way."

A few weeks, and many many hours of job searching later I sat at my desk, head in my hands, and realized I was not only depressed, I was losing confidence in myself and my ability to do any kind of job. Looking for a job is very demoralizing if you ask me. If you aren't being rejected, you are being ignored. I let my finances keep me from going out and volunteering or spending time doing creative things I might have enjoyed. Instead, I made my job looking for a job. I would do things a lot differently if I had it to do over but I don't believe in spending time in regret.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. Money was running out, the depression was paralyzing me and the realization that I had to do something, anything, was all I could think about. "But what?" Hadn't I just spent the last 6 months obsessing over this exact thing? What to do? How to turn this time off into an opportunity? And then that same friend called. Hearing the the despair in my voice he threw me a rope. "Why don't you just come up here for a while. A friend of mine has a room you can rent for dirt cheap and you can store your stuff in my basement. It will be a change of scenery and shake things up, which is always good." The seed took sprout.

The decision to go was not an easy one. I stressed, vacillated, got second and third opinions and changed my mind several times. As I started to lean in a NW direction, interesting things started happening. I was offered an opportunity to work on a film. Something I have very recently become interested in. I was getting positive responses from employers I reached out to with inquiries. I was offered several places to stay from high school friends, friends of friends and family (my brother and second cousin live there) while I got settled. I had rooms for rent being offered through friends. All indicators pointed North.

If you ask me today, "why Portland," I would probably ramble off a list such as this:
It's a place I once called home. It's a very cool city with a lot happening in it. It's beautiful. It's super cheap, hopefully affording me the luxury of pursuing some new dreams and a completely new career. I have a few friends and a bit of family, providing me a small support system. It's green in color and thought. There is great food, beer and wine. The art scene is pretty great and being that it is smaller, may be a little easier to break into. Oh.... and there are hot guys there now! And, of course, last but not least.... COFFEE!

Today, as I only have a few final boxes to be packed... the plant has taken root. Maybe I don't seem so sure of my reasons when asked "Why Portland?" but I am going, and so I offer back... "Why not?" Change is good. No, actually, change is great!

Renee

“Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.” - Henry David Thoreau

Ten Day Countdown

I created this blog over a month ago, and like Vickie, am just now writing my first entry. Moving takes a lot of time and energy and writing takes me making time. The two things sometimes don't go so well together. I too am going to refrain from going backward in time and would like to take this opportunity to direct you to the "about us" section for a brief history.

Today I sit in my living room, half of which is filled with boxes, procrastinating the last tasks which involve packing dishes and shredding paperwork. While packing sucks, I do not question the move. I'm doing it. Last week was a little rocky but I got through it. Now I sit here and wonder how I accumulated all of this shit in five years. At some point I told myself that it was time to grow up and stop living like a vagabond. Time to own some stuff, like furniture, and more than one set of sheets, time to nest. Now, as I look at the stack of cardboard squares I wonder if living like a vagabond up until my 30's wasn't a better idea. It certainly made for an easier move.

It's crunch time. I have 2 pods coming next week and some mover guy coming the following day to pack them up for me. The good bye's start this weekend. Actually, they started last weekend in Joshua Tree. Or maybe they started a few weeks ago in Palm Springs. I have not gotten sad yet. Maybe it doesn't seem real. Maybe I'm too busy obsessing over where I am going to put the moving Pods when they get here. Transference? Frankly, I'm dreading good bye. I can only think about today or I start to hyperventilate. Not really. I'm just being dramatic. I should be, in theory, completely freaked out by my mostly calm demeanor.

My mind is wandering from this page, to the kitchen that needs to be packed, to the phone call I owe Vickie, to the people I am saying goodbye to on Saturday, to the lists I need to review so I can remember all the other things that are not passing through my brain at the moment. With that said, I think I just have to let it be that sometimes I am not going to have anything meaningful to say. But, to write is good, to blog is fun and to share experiences is fulfilling somehow.

And so it begins....

Renee

Retrospective Prespective

I've been in Santa Fe for just a little over a month now and have failed to write until now. So instead of trying to go back and write a play by play I am just going to start with where I am right now and what it is that I am trying to make sense of.

Living what you need. . . .

Why is it that we have such a need to fill every moment of everyday with non-sense? We have a million emails to answer or calls to return; Facebook walls to write on, planes to catch and meetings to make. Every task becomes more urgent then the last until one day we get a rude awakening or a sign that life should be more rewarding and meaningful. This can come in any form, health, job loss, death or illness of a loved one. These are bigger things than us alone. But why does it take so many signs to wake us up? Why are we always willing to go out on a limb for something or someone other than ourselves?

This was me on so many levels for so many years. I was always in search of the next best thing. Searching for something to make it better; trying to reward myself because I made it through another day. So I shopped too much, drank too much, spend exuberant amounts of money on booze and dinners, traveled as often as I could as far as I could get or as far as the corporate ball & chain allowed me to go. I had to play as hard as I worked to fill this black hole; happily denying its existence.

Most people think a yearly 2 week holiday is enough to make us feel happy and content but then you’re back, and spend the next 6 months planning your next great escape and counting the days. And counting the days to what exactly? Another over priced, mediocre vacation, held up in a hotel - whatever its rating. It’s just a way of filling the void, once again.

When we were younger we were taught to believe in our hopes and dreams. Why and when did we stop dreaming? Because it’s childish? Yeah it’s silly, you try and convince yourself. Besides, you’re a responsible adult with a good job. You make a good living and that should be enough. And then, someone pulls the rug out from under you and what do you do? . . . . . .You live. You live better then you’ve ever lived before. You discover things in life that you never knew you were missing until they stared you hard in the face.

So, are your dreams as foolish as you once thought? Are you willing to put it out there and hope for the best? Fool or not, you have nothing to lose. And if you fail you pick yourself up, dust yourself off and get on to something better.

Trust me, the things you thought were so important a year ago mean almost nothing today.

So what’s stopping you now?

Vickie