It’s Raining

When it rains, it pours. I had my second chance yesterday and it went well for all those of you who were sitting by in suspense from my last post. So yay! Which now just means I’m moving again! Yup. I think this is the 6th real move I’ve had since I started this blog! :O. Might’ve had more. Hmm. I move a lot. And it never fails that when I do, the weather wants to welcome me with some insane amount of awful storminess. 

When I first moved to Florida: hurricane! Texas: hurricane/tornados! Rhode Island – granted that was only supposed to be for 3 months, but ended up being closer to 9: blizzard!  California: RAIN. OK, I know rain isn’t a huge deal. But it was San Diego. It doesn’t rain there! But it did when I showed up! Hawaii: typhoon warnings. South Carolina: hurricane! So in my journey to New York, why wouldn’t it have a massive downpour the entire drive with threats of hail and other craziness! 

Rain isn’t terrible though. Not always. Thirteen years ago (pretty sure to the day today, actually), my brother and dad were upstate hiking and a dog ran into the car they had just run into (it was their car, not some random stranger’s) because it started raining.   There was only one other car in the lot and as soon as the dog got in their car, those people drove away. And from this, we had a dog. Ice puppy! He was only 3 or 4 months old at the time.  And he was a non barking dog! So naturally when my dad and brother got home, they woke me up to tell me the epic news. 

I had begged to have a dog for forever. We lived across the street from a pet store and every day on the way home from school, we’d have to stop and look at the dogs that were in the window. There was a golden retriever (I decided his name was Rex) who I HAD to have. But now we had this brindle puppy. Oh yeah. And Mom wasn’t allowed to know! :O. We lived in an apartment. In hindsight, not a whole lot of room for a dog. But I wasn’t thinking about that. 
We hid Ice in my brothers room for almost 3 days. When my mom came home from work one day, she demanded to know if there was a dog in the house. Whoops. So she goes to the room and of course Ice sees a new person and is excited and jumps up on her to greet her. She’s horrified. “He’s not even a cute dog!” She exclaimed in rage. His paws may have been a little wet and she was in her clothes from work still. And most people aren’t crazy about a 30 pound dog jumping on them.  She was irate. She wanted nothing to do with him. We simply had to get rid of him. 

About a week went by and it was clear Ice wasn’t going anywhere. My mom decided she would finally take him out for a walk. And of course on the last block before returning home, he sat down on the corner and refused to move. My mom was pulling him and trying to get him to move and of course,he was just smiling away, content as could be on the street corner. Mom was outraged. Refused to ever take him out again. But of course, Ice grew on her.  A few years later, my brother wanted to take Ice to Florida for the summer. Mom’s response: “You can’t take my dog!”  

Ice was part of the family. Sadly, he had to go to sleep the other day.  As we’ve been telling people, they’ve been amazing reminding us of all the good times we’ve had with Ice.  He had a great life – over 13 years of awesomeness! As my first dog, he was the best. Happy, protective when needed, and always ready to head outside, I hope the ultimate dog park is everything and more to keep him the smiling, best dog ever. 

Exploring Home

I’m incredibly spoiled.  I grew up in the greatest city in the world.  Whether you agree with this fact or not is entirely up to you.  Everyone is entitled to my opinion on my blog! 😀  But seriously, New York City is an amazing, wonderful place.  It will always be home.  So why don’t I live there?  Well, for starters, there’s not a whole lot in the field of rocket science in the most populated city in the United States.  And I couldn’t do my current job there.  And there are too many people.  SO. MANY. PEOPLE.  And noise!  It’s what makes it home and I’m not complaining about it.  You don’t even notice the noise after a while and most people are so absorbed in their own lives that you don’t really notice them either.  The last time I was there, I asked a cashier how her day was going and she looked at me like I had 12 heads.  That’s my city that I love.

New Yorkers get this rap that we’re rude and fast and don’t care about anyone.  We’re not that rude.  We just don’t take part in a lot of the pleasantries that the rest of the country does.  It’s just different.  When I lived in Germany, one of my friends asked me if it was true that English speakers ask how you are doing without really wanting to know.  I was confused by the question.  She elaborated, saying her English teacher told them that English speakers always ask “How are you?” but don’t wait for a response.  It’s true.  We use it more of a greeting as you would hello.  In that regard, though, non-native English speakers think we’re the ones being rude.  It’s the same thing in New York for the most part.  Not always.  But could you imagine if we stopped to talk to EVERYONE we ran into.  You would never get anywhere.

Fast is debatable.  My father is one of the slowest people I know.  And he’s been there a hell of a lot longer than I have.  He CAN be quick with some things.  But he’s pretty slow by most standards.  No offense, Dad – love you!  Anyway, I’m digressing.  I started this post because a friend of mine is thinking of moving to another city.  I’m probably a terrible person to talk to about moving: I’ve had 12 different addresses in the past 8 years.  But she made a comment about being bored in a new city.  It made me think.  Most of my friends from NY are still living there.  Actually, I’m struggling to think of any of them that aren’t at the moment.  A lot of them stayed for school and then found a job there or are still studying or whatever.

So the prospect of moving is daunting because it’s all you know if you haven’t ventured out.  And to most of us city kids, EVERYWHERE else is boring. Because what is there to do in suburbia when you’ve lived in the non-stop, world famous New York for your entire life?  But having been to the middle of nowhere and back again, there’s SO much more than what’s enclosed in the 305 square miles that is NYC.  I’ve found something in every city I’ve been to, from the sheer beauty of nature or history of a region or the food or even the people!  I know that’s shocking to hear from me.

As I think about settling down in my newest home (it’s been like a month and a half now), I am frustrated and excited about it.  Moving all the time has kept me from getting bored in one place.  Quite the contrary, I find I’m there for long enough to find the things I want to do and check out and not long enough to do everything I want.  Like vacation.  There’s ALWAYS more to see.  If you’re doing it right, at least.  At the same time, finding new people and new places is fun and awesome, but you can miss your old routines and people and the environment you created for yourself.  For me, it keeps me engaged.  It’s not for everyone, that’s for sure.  Some days I’m not even sure it IS for me.  But then I find out I’m moving.  Again.  And the excitement rushed back in.  Explore.  Find the hole in the wall place and the random, crazy person that makes the day that much better, and the secluded spot that you can go and relax and think about life.  And then when you go back to visit, you have all the benefits of being a local and a tourist.  And that is wonderful.