Well, I did it again.

Remember this little guy?
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Well… he had a sister.
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Her name is Luna- my sister, Phoebe, is keeping her, so no, I will not be moving to Colorado with three cats in tow. I’m crazy, but not insane. Come on, people.

I KNOW. I KNOW.
but they’re so CUTE and TINY and they have SPOTS and have I mentioned how TINY THEY ARE?!
However, they’ve proven to be extremely helpful while I’m packing my moving boxes…

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I’m the only one I know who’ll impulse adopt a cat.

If you know me, and I know this post will get a menagerie of readers- some who’ve been around my whole life, some who are passerby in certain chapters of my existence, others who know me better than themselves, you’ll know that I’m a planner.
I like lists.
I love bullet points.
I thrive on knowing what I’ll be doing in two hours.
I’m the one who packs those needless “just in case” items on a weekend trip.

“Winging it” gives my brain hives. The only thing I ever impulse buy is tshirts from Target.

And yet, over the past year, I’ve become more accustomed to impulse. Impromptu activities aren’t as stressful. I’ve found a balance between planning and letting go (if any of you starts with Frozen, you’re fired). In fact, last week, I threw caution to the wind, and RSVP’d to a rap music video casting call (which just so happens to be tonight).

I can easily trace these changes back to one instance, or, more accurately, one person.
13900163_10154260010706291_7859489370529882699_nThat one. Right there. It’s his fault.

Timehop- usually a tool of embarrassment used to remind you of haphazard decisions and stances you held 10 years ago- notified me yesterday that was exactly 6 years since the first Western Civ class that threw us into one another’s lives. While our friendship built over the following 5, both of us would have laughed til beer came out our noses if someone would have told us that we’d end up being together. And yet, here we are.

Here I am, impulse adopting a tiny, fluffy, flea-bitten kitten, allowing my friend-turned-boyfriend of 1.5 years to name him, and not batting an eyelash. Here I am signing up for a casting call completely out of my comfort zone. Here I am, writing a letter of resignation to my job, notifying them that my last day will be in December, in 3 months time, when I will be moving to Colorado to finally end this long-distance torture.

Yep.
There it is. I said it.
It’s out in the open. Loud & proud.
I’M MOVING.
Wrapped nice and snug, unassuming, in a warm, fuzzy paragraph about a warm, fuzzy kitten.

I’m moving.

I adore Kansas City- it’s shitty roads, a civil engineer’s nightmare (looking at you, downtown cherry trap), on-again-off-again sports teams (Heyyyyy Chiefs…), newly great sports teams (#rallymantis), and slew of coffee connoisseurs, roasters, and hipster-like shops & bars.
I adore the family I have in the city- by blood, or by choice.
My roller derby warriors, my coaches, my kickass skate fam.
The friends I’ve grown up with, gone to school with, survived puberty and questionable fashion choices with.

But, to throw myself face first into hokey stereotypes and phrases:
Kansas City will always be my hometown, but home is where my heart is, and frankly, it’s not here. 947331_10153748923461291_2816788918412655724_n

So there it is. Most of you have seen it coming, some haven’t. However, now it’s official.

December 9th, I’m saying goodbye to a job that’s taught me so much, and saying hello to a house filled with the one I love, four cats, beer, and more books than either of us will know what to do with.

Here’s to the next chapter, and impulse adopting cats.

New York Mornings

Everyone’s always said that you have a love/hate relationship with New York: you either love it, or love to hate it.
I beg to differ. My two years in NYC were filled with music & laughter, heartbreaks, losses, gains, and the most amazing people I could ask for. While I wasn’t in my element in the City, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Some days I miss New York more than most, and when that happens, I turn to the bittersweet melodies of Elbow’s New York Mornings, to remind me of the experiences & love I had for that city.

Dear New York, 
You haven’t seen the last of me. 
I’ll be back.
Love, 
E

New Year, New Chapter

2014 had more ups & downs than a soap opera, but then again, so does life. After all, what would we do if everything was just as predictable as an old rerun of Happy Days?
There was always a light at the end of the tunnel (thanks Third Day), even though I had no idea what was in store for me afterwards. December saw me finally complete the academic rat race that I’ve been running for the past six years, when I completed the final courses and graduate portfolio that fulfilled the requirements for my Masters of Library & Information Science from Pratt Institute. Soon after that, I flew home for an extended holiday as I recharged and threw myself into the job hunt full time.

During the holidays, I was able to pull myself away and focus on the uncertain path ahead. I’d never quite planned past getting my graduate degree, so for the first time in my life, I was directionless. The idea terrified me, and the feeling of being completely untethered to any sort of goal or endgame unnerved me to the Nth degree. However, God blessed my life with amazing, wise, & understanding parents, and a sweet sister who were willing to help me through the murky process of creating a solution, however temporary.

This brings me to the whole reason for this novelesque post: I’m moving away from New York City, and back to the Midwest for an unforseen amount of time. This decision was deliberated carefully, and honestly, debated hotly. However, over the past few weeks, thanks to the clear head of my parents, & a nice stock of whiskey,  I’ve come to terms with the fact that my time in New York is at an end.

My flight back to New York is January 24, and I’ll take a few days to pack & ship my clothes & books, and say my goodbyes. As LCD Soundsystem says, New York, I love you, but you’re bringing me down. I always knew that my endgame was never to live in New York, but over the past two years, the Big Apple has carved out a niche in my heart all its own.

To all of the amazing people I’ve had the blessing to meet, you guys have changed my life, and have become a permanent part of it.
I’ll always be DCH4Life & a Waterbaby, and dragonboat is forever in my blood (and on my arm). I won’t stop working in hopes I’ll find myself in a boat again (along with those really weird tan lines).
DCH 2014

To my wonderful roommates, MJ and Wendy, you guys have become like sisters to me more quickly than I thought possible. I can’t believe how lucky I was to find such amazing women quite literally overnight. We took an empty apartment & made it ours, and if there was any way feasible for me to still live with  you guys anywhere in the US, I would.
I can’t possibly name every amazing person that I have the privilege of having in my life because of New York, but the memories (hazy or no) will always be with me.
The happy hours, the road trips, the weeks with only $5 to last you til Friday, the late night tattoos on St. Marks, street meat at all hours of the day (or night), and somehow being able to navigate traffic with a full cup of coffee, bagel, phone, & laptop case in hand…with the occasional umbrella (I’m still not sure how I did that)- they’ll all be missed, and there is no way they can be replaced.
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sleep nyc tuesday

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Who knows, perhaps I’ll end up back on the East Coast someday, but til then, keep it classy, New York. You’ll always have a portion of my heart.