City Girl from Cali, actually in Cali.

Hello everyone! It's been awhile...

So, yes, I am actually in California as I write this. I have been home for about 11 days with 3 more to go for one last trip before school starts. (Holy crap, school starts in almost exactly one month. Which will mean Jason and I moved away 7 months ago. Where did the time go?!)

For those of you who read my last post about coming home (and never really being able to come home again), you know that I was skeptical about the whole thing and hoped that the going back and forth would get easier. Well, it really hasn't. In fact, when I had to leave Jason once more on the curb at the Departures terminal of the airport, I thought I was going to have a panic attack. This is the longest he and I have ever been apart since we started dating and I wasn't looking forward to it.

I did, however, know that it was important for me to go spend some time with my friends and family before the craziness of 17 units starts, most likely not seeing them again until Christmas.

The truth of the matter is that my mom is the one who really pushed (and I mean 3 nagging phone calls a day for a month pushed) for this trip. I didn't even want to spend two whole weeks here, I tried to get her to agree to just one like last time. I thought it would make it even harder to leave Jason and harder to leave here when I had to go back. But I guess it's just equally hard no matter what you do. It's all hard... being here without him, being there without my family.

However, this trip truly was a blessing in disguise for me because it has allowed me to really appreciate the decision I made to move across the country. I think when any human being makes a huge decision like that, they find themselves questioning it from time to time. It's only normal. I have of course wondered what it would be like to move back home and pretend none of it ever happened, because I have of course gotten that homesick at times. This trip has shown me though that that would not be the right decision.

Home is not the same for me, maybe, because it's not where I belong anymore. I belong out there, in this gigantic world; making memories, making mistakes, growing, living, and remembering to love every second of it. Home feels small to me, maybe, because my soul has gotten bigger. It has more room to explore now.

Which isn't to say that home will always be home. I will always love my home. It's just that I made a commitment, to Jason and myself, to go on this adventure and see it through no matter how hard it gets. And it's gotten pretty hard. If I just keep dwelling on the negatives, however, it gives those negatives more power. It's like that old Native American fable goes, "You have two wolves fighting inside of you. One is vengeful, resentful, and angry. And the other is understanding, kind, and optimistic. Which wolf lives? The one you feed."

This story resonated with me so much the first time I heard it and when Jason heard it for the first time, he felt the same way. Sometimes we get in a habit of feeding the wrong wolf and I think in the cloudy haze of all that was hard and going wrong in my new life on the East Coast, I started feeding that wolf. That wolf wasn't the one that made the brave decision to move over there, but he certainly took over once I did.

Feed the right wolf.

I can see now how amazing it is that I'm living out my New York daydreams every single month. I check one more thing off my New York Bucketlist each time we go there. (Last time, I got to check off "See a play on Broadway.") Only, I always pictured myself in New York alone. Not because I wanted to be single and "not needing no man" when I got there, but because I never thought in a million years that an amazing man like the one I'm going to get to marry even existed. But he does. And every time I have to pinch myself as I wander around that city, I'm holding his hand as I do it.

It's time I slap myself somewhat silly and say, "Hey! You wanted this, you moron!" And then, you know, forgive myself for the moron comment. It's time I get excited about starting school, taking the train there, living out a new adventure and old dream. It's time I start feeding the right wolf.

But for now, I'm going to enjoy these last few days with my family and my puppies (and secretly daydream about the moment I get to run into Jason's arms at the Arrivals terminal in 3 days.)

As always, thanks for reading! Until next time.

Xx,
City Girl from Cali

Augustus.

When Jason and I decided to move here, we brought up the idea of getting a pet and then, overwhelmed by so much as it was, quickly dismissed this idea. We decided then and there that it was not going to happen. Too much expense, too much work, blah, blah, etc. "We're going to get in and get out," he told me, as if we were going off to war or planning a one night stand. No attachments.

Well... about five and a half months later, we now have an Augustus. A half pound, striped, grey ball of love. I've never been a cat person; I've always had dogs so I've always considered myself a dog person. (Augustus is staring at me now as if he knows what I'm typing and is quite offended by it.) But, I can safely say that I am now, also, a cat person because I have fallen head over heels in love with this cat.

Talk of changing our mind about the "in and out with no attachments" plan began around the time when Jason came home every night to a fiancé who had spent most of her day balled up on the couch in tears with a case of the most pathetic and lonely homesickness you've ever seen in your life. "I need a dog," I told him, eyes swollen, as if I was pleading for my life. "I can't do this anymore without a dog."

To me, having a dog would not only give me work to distract me from how much I miss home, but it would dull the ache of how much I'm alone here. I would have a companion. Someone I could talk to, allowing me to feel slightly less insane than when I talk to myself. It was like a beam of light at the end of the tunnel, a beacon of hope, if you will.

Jason immediately understood, however, (being a cat person), also immediately began trying to convince me to get a cat instead. Telling me that they are less work, less expensive, and just as awesome. I was skeptical, but decided to let the fates decide. (i.e.: our landlord.) Our lease was unclear on our even being able to get an animal, so we e-mailed her to ask about it. After saying she needed a week to think it over, she responded by saying she would be okay with us getting a cat. Jason showed me her email, smug and triumphant. It was settled. No puppy for me.

In the couple of weeks to follow, I found myself looking at pictures of kittens and trying to get myself excited. I just hadn't had much experience with cats and the ones that I'd met over my years always seemed so indifferent about, well, just about everything. 

I was also incredibly nervous on the way to the animal shelter. I felt almost as if I was on my way to a first date, or something. 

When we entered the room labeled "Kittens", I had no idea how in the hell we were supposed to pick one. You know that old saying, "When you know, you know." I looked at the black and whites, the orange tabbies, and even the gorgeous all white ones... but then I saw Augustus. His big, green eyes staring right at me from the front of his cage. Without anyone even saying a word, the lady opened the cage and handed him to me. And I knew.

There was about an hour's worth of paperwork and adoption applications to go through, during which time I spent panicking that something might go wrong and I would have to leave without this 9 week old kitten melting into my chest and falling asleep there. I was literally sweating.

When everything was finalized and they said they would get us a carrier to bring him home in, relief and joy flooded my being. I finally had a little buddy of my own. Even when he gets kitty litter all over the bathroom floor or whines at me, meowing/yelling, until I pick him up and give him a snuggle; I'm still grateful. Even as I've been trying to writing this, he has bit the shit out of my hand for using it to type instead of pet him; I'm still grateful. Because I can tell that he already loves me just as much as I love him and I didn't even know how much I needed that.