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Strategery, Y’all.

Toby stares up at me, his blobby tail thudding on the linoleum. I plunge the French press and glance at the stove clock. I’m a few minutes late for the meeting.

Thankfully, I don’t have to brave the 405 this time – I just have to take a few steps into the living room. Andy sits cross-legged on the floor in front of the open laptop. I slide a cup of coffee over to him, and set the stove timer.

“The clothes will be done in twenty-five minutes. So let’s get started.”

Andy flexes his fingers and then launches into his spiel. Our first strategy deployment session as a couple has officially begun.

***

When we first realized that Seattle was actually happening, we began to strategize – figure out what this next step will mean, and what kinds of things we’d like to have accomplished by the time it inevitably ends.

Which is why we’re sitting on the floor, filling a Saturday morning rapping out pages’ worth of personal and professional benchmarks, then cutting it down to a page of essentials.

With the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles constantly making us sweat, we’re craving the ability to loosen the reigns, breathe deeper (and fresher air), and re-center. Now, it’s not going to happen overnight, and it’s going to take a lot of energy. And it’s not like Seattle is going to be some magical cure for our wanderlust, or a fairyland where all our dreams come true.

In reality, it’s going to be damper, hillier, and hipsterery. And I’m down with that. After all, I much prefer jeans over shorts, and if I ever have to pick between a wannabe Ken doll and a wannabe Emo rocker, I’ll always pick the latter.

Still, what’s becoming more and more important to me is rekindling my passion for art…

Forward Facing

Absolution

for community engagement…

The Center!

and for the outdoors and gardening.

Ah, green.

Sure, I spent more years than I can remember traipsing through the woods, but it’ll be nice to revisit them – and not have to wade through droves of tourists to do so. And it’ll be insanely cathartic to get back to photography and painting – two passions that’ve withered faster than a grocery store-bought basil plant in the California sun.

But more than our personal passions, we’re starting to plan, plan, plan – beyond our usual Excel spreadsheets. We’re entering that phase of life where life goals are more here-and-now than down-the-line. We have want to act, and start doing rather than dreaming.

We’re going to fine-tune our lives and keep ourselves honest. We’re going to enjoy the little things, but remember the bigger picture – and push to bring it to fruition. So I hope that during our time in Seattle we have fun and learn a lot.

But more than that, I hope that we become the people we want to be for a long time.

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Movin’ On Up. Literally.

We take the turn at 1.5 mph, and hear a bone-chilling clunk-crash-shatter that makes my heart skip a beat. But before we even turn around, Andy and I know what we’ll see.

The project piece we toted across the country, and which has stayed frozen in its “project” state, finally gave up the ghost – shattering to pieces in the back of the car.

I make a feeble attempt to piece it back together, but fail – the broken, newly glued shards slide off a half hour later onto piles of bagged clothes at the thrift store. Instead of slapping them back onto the drawer front, I just turn and run – as if I just lit a firecracker at a gasoline station.

“Go, go, go!”

From the driver’s seat, Andy raises an eyebrow. I jump in.

“DRIVE! The drawer fell apart.”

“Chill out. It’s not like they’re going to run after us screaming, ‘How dare you donate something!'”

True. I dust off my hands, but find them sticking together with residual glue.

“Oh well. The albatross is gone. At least we tried to do the right thing.”

We get back to the apartment and find Toby wiggling around, exceedingly thrilled that his car crate is hogging the space the desk had occupied an hour earlier. It’s something ridiculously minor – the absence of a piece of furniture.

But Andy and I know that this is something more – the start of yet another chapter.

I never thought I’d be the type of person who moved around every few years. Mostly because I loathed it, having been forced to do so as a shovel bum for most of my early twenties. But here we are, nearing our two year mark in California – and commemorating it with a move to Seattle.

And I couldn’t be more thrilled.

***

Right before we moved out here, one of our friends told us that her time in California was like a five-year dream. And it’s sort of been true.

I mean, California is beautiful, and LA isn’t as bad as everyone makes it out to be. Like any new place, we sometimes let the not-so-great things outweigh the good. It’s a big city – and living in a big, sprawling city can wear on you with its grit, noise, and general impartiality for your feelings. But being homebodies makes doing all the things a little difficult. I mean, I’m all about seeing the sights and visiting everything, but I’m not all about sitting in gridlock for hours to get 10 miles outside the city. And I can only tolerate so many TMZ bus oglers clogging the streets and sidewalks. I know, I know.

Wah, wah, wah! First World Problems!

So instead of pledging that Seattle is going to be our “place panacea,” I’m going to view this upcoming move as what it is: a new experience – an adventure. It could last a year or two and end with us returning to LA, or last five or ten or forever. Who knows? The unknown: it’s the part of the puzzle that drives me nuts in all the right ways, even as I’m literally driving toward it.

Like our move to California, our move to Seattle is a decision we made – not one that was made for us. And one of the greatest things that we learned from realizing our man-infested destiny out here was that we can make big changes and be alright. We don’t have to be comfortably settled to be happy. When that moving itch hits, sometimes you just have to scratch and relish the relief that comes with it.

Leaving a place is never easy.

We’ve done a lot in our short amount of time here: Andy switched jobs, I switched careers, we moved to WeHo, got married, cut up our credit cards, adopted Toby and Pearl, and decided that, one day, we’ll have a kid. Did we make a ton of friends and get ripped and have perfect tans 100% of the time? No. Is that okay? Sure.

What friends we’ve made and what we’ve made of our time here are what count.

Not doing those expected Cali things has taught us a lot about ourselves. We’re homebodies. We like movies, food, antiquing, and playing with our pup. We like being snarky and cynical while also trying to do our best to be good people and give back.

I’m done apologizing for not doing the things I’m expected to do, and I’m too tired to care what other people think about what I actually like to do. I’m ready for a change. And all of the life lessons I’ll learn in the process.

Way, way up there.