My Last Post From Brooklyn

Empty apartment This is my very last post from Brooklyn, NY. The next time I write it will be from Indiana.

I had all of these post ideas on my content calendar for this week. I was determined to not let the move interfere with stuff. But then I woke up this morning and realized I'm a crazy person. While all of my neighbors and friends are enjoying cookouts and pool/beach time, I'm packing up what's left of our life in NYC while Mr. T is packing up his office.

I probably shouldn't even be writing at this moment, but I needed to take a break. To reflect. To not freak out. To something.

Everything is sinking in you guys. We are leaving NYC. And leaving is hard. Really hard. I know it's what I want and what I'm ready for. But that doesn't make it easy. It's like ending a relationship with someone that you truly love, but know in your heart they're just not right for you.

Last Friday, the movers came. It took them a little over two hours to package up our furniture and load our stuff into a truck.

first date

Then on Saturday we said our final goodbyes to most of our friends. We went to the East Village and visited the place where we had our first date. On the way I bought a pair of heart sunglasses and just took everything in. We stopped and ate a burger and I remembered all of the things that I loved about NYC. It reminded me so much of when I first moved here and when we were first dating. Then as we made our way to the subway I kind of couldn't believe I was leaving all of it. And then it took us over two hours to get home (a mere 5 miles) and I was reminded why we're leaving.

dino bbq

And then on Sunday we had what is (likely) out last dinner out in Brooklyn. And now I sit on the bed -- our last piece of furniture that's left since we aren't taking it with us. There are piles of things that need to be packed and piles of things that need to be packed. Almost all of the walls and windows are bare. It's sinking in. And sitting here in this almost empty apartment reminds me of when I first moved here.

I remember sitting on the floor with my new roommate when I first moved to Brooklyn. Our apartment was pretty empty since we had to buy furniture. I had never met her, but knew her through mutual friends that I had never actually met in person. That's the funny thing about blogging, it opens up so many weird doors.

My mom and I drove over night, from Chicago. Now that I think back on it, I have no idea why we drove all night. But we made it.

I couldn't afford a moving truck so we loaded whatever would fit into her car. Whatever didn't fit was tossed.

Once we were close to NYC, it started to pour down rain. When we got to the Holland Tunnel we realized we didn't have any cash and had to wander around to three different ATMs.

Our directions were totally off so we got lost. We took the Williamsburg Bridge over to Brooklyn only to get lost again and take it back to Manhattan where we managed to find the original way the directions told us.

We slept on a twin sized air mattress my first night here. We went to buy a bed and came home to find her car was towed. So all of my extra money was spent getting the car out.

They say that you have to live in NYC for 10 years to call yourself a New Yorker. I don't know if that's true. Maybe I can't technically claim that status, but I sure as hell felt like a New Yorker. Though I don't think I will ever call pop soda or love American cheese that much. But whatever I am, I know that New York City was my home for four years and I loved (almost) every minute of it.

east village

But now it's time for me to part. Farewell my dear Brooklyn. Thank you so much for everything. Thank you for all of the amazing memories. And for all of the amazing people. Thank you for helping me discover things that I never knew about myself. Thank you for introducing me to Mr. T.

I'm excited for our next adventure (yep, I totally think it's an adventure now). I'm also excited to get back to normal blogging and crafting and working on my shop (I'll actually have an entire room dedicated to my craft. I am beyond excited). And I promise not to start all of my posts with "I am 34 and live in my mom's basement with my husband".