Three pieces of furniture and a cat.

That's all I have at the moment. Well, and some food in the fridge.

No, no one broke in. I am almost totally moved out of Corvallis!

When I first realized that I would have to spend a month here, it seemed like an eternity away, but now that I seriously only have 4 days left, I've realized that the hardest part of leaving Corvallis is Corvallis itself, if that makes sense.

When you want to leave a place but can't, you only see the negatives about it. But, when you want to leave a place and then you're leaving before you thought you would be, all you see are the things you'll miss.

And there's a lot I'll miss. Everywhere I go in Corvallis holds some sort of special moment. I guess it's not hard to fill a town with memories when said town is so tiny it only takes 15 minutes to cross it. I suppose if I'm ever feeling super nostalgic, I can come back and get my fill of memories in less than half an hour. Efficient Nostalgia.

Plus, I'll be back every couple of weeks to get my hair cut. This may seem ridiculous to just about everyone, but my hairdresser really understands my hair and I would seriously follow her to Timbuktu, if I had to. If I didn't have my hairdresser, my tresses would look something like this:



I am super excited to move though, and start our life in Beaverton. We are actually living in a house, which will be a welcome change from our years of living in apartments. The littlest things about having a house are just so exciting to me. Like, I can't believe we'll have a driveway, instead of parking for a spot and worrying about some guy denting your door. Or, the idea of having a solid foundation under our feet, so I can do my Wii to my little heart's content, and Newton can tear around the place without our downstairs neighbor pounding on our floor with the end of a broom. Simple comforts.

So yeah. One more week in cozy Corvallis and then, new adventures!

Alone Time

Sometimes I am so worried about a situation that I fail to see the silver lining until it basically hits me in the head.

The situation at hand is that I am currently spending a month alone here in Corvallis. Evan got a teaching job at Beaverton High School and of course, had to move up to that area to start teaching the savages aka high school freshmen.

As much as I wanted to go with him, I had to realize that I have a full-time job here with my own breed of savages, also known as middle schoolers. The way the economy is now, I would be a tad more than moronic to leave a decently paying job and a place that I worked so hard to have a voice in because I am a little nervous about being left all by my lonesome.

Of course, on paper it seems really simple: He goes and makes moolah, and I stay here and make moolah, and at some point, we come back together and share said moolah.

But, if you will, picture our plan as a cross-country runner. This guy is running smoothly, nothing in his path, and the sun is shining.

Images courtesy of Google

Now. Picture a mean guy in a trenchcoat walking up to our runner and throwing a gigantic wrench in his path. making the runner run straight into a very well-grown patch of poison oak. We'll call this wrench Anxiety.

The truth of the matter is, I have anxiety. Pretty badly, actually, and the idea of being left alone every evening was terrifying. Not to mention just about doing everything alone. I couldn't fathom grocery shopping alone, or running errands all by myself. It was too daunting.

So, back to our runner. He's picked himself out of the poison oak, and albeit itchy, he keeps going.

And, out of the bushes springs a crazy, rabid animal with a penchant for aluminum foil and all plants and he sinks his teeth into the runner's leg.



We'll call this crazy, rabid animal Newton. Frankly, this cat is really bizarre. I feel like a single parent (okay, maybe 1/100000th of what they feel) when I'm home alone with this feline. He gets into just about everything that isn't bolted down or welded shut, he eats everything (his latest meals: a magnet, bamboo leaves, gravel, and a large piece of aluminum foil), and then takes just about the smelliest poops I have ever experienced. And, trust me, I know animal poop.

So now our runner is itchy, and bleeding. As he's limping along, let's say that a very angry looking raincloud bursts open right on top of this poor guy, and a torrential rainfall begins to fall on him. Since this guy is an Oregonian right down to the core, the rain itself doesn't bother him so much as the absolute swamp of mud this rain is creating for him, bogging down his every step forward.

We'll call this muddy slop Loose Ends That Need Tying Up. On one hand, a month seems like forever, and when I think of all the little things I have to do, I feel like I am already out of time. And money.

What's crazy about this metaphor, is that our runner will eventually get to the finish line, and he'll be stronger after such a journey. And so will I.

I will take this time to live for myself down here; to go shopping for shoes I don't need but desperately want without Ev behind me looking like I dragged him into the store. I can browse for makeup or books for hours and not have to worry about anything or anyone but myself. I can learn a lot about myself that maybe I missed out on by living with someone for the last 3 years. It's so easy to put someone else that you care so deeply about before you and even lose yourself in that devotion. This is my chance to find myself again a little bit. To take a slightly scary journey that I know will have its fair share of obstacles, but in the end I will make it to Beaverton, and I'll be stronger when I get there.

And, at least, I don't actually have Poison Oak.