Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Moving Day!

Goodbye, Howl Manor.

Good morning, Internet!

I'm trying to be more prolific with my blog writing, and failing, unfortunately. Now that I have a nice, new, beautiful office space/Circle Room, there's really no excuse for me to not be blogging more. I would really like to see if something can come of this, as I don't have any plans on changing career paths any time soon, and I truly enjoy writing...why not see if I can't do something more with it?

I've been thinking a lot about my neighborhood of Rosedale and what to do with it. I'm moving from one end of the neighborhood to the other, and today is the last day I have to move the last of my things out. I'm leaving Howl Manor to a friend of mine to take over, who will in turn inherit my sofa, coffee table, dining room table and bench, as well as a giant pumpkin patch and some nice tomato plants. I'll be cleaning out/vacuuming the place, too, as much as I can, with the amount of dog hair that there is there...

The damage to the house isn't bad. My ex was dog-sitting once and the dog tore up the carpet in the bedroom, so I don't expect to get my pet deposit back. I also tore a giant hole in the blinds on the front window the other day when moving some stuff around, so I'm sure that'll come out, too. Other than that, the unit has been somewhat improved since I've lived there. The bathroom walls have been painted, as has the back office. My mom did an awesome facelift on the house, and I'm honestly sad to leave it behind. I loved that little house so much

I'll even miss this tiny little kitchen...
 I lived at Howl Manor for two years; one year(ish) with my ex, one year alone. We had broken up about seven months into that lease, but he still lived there for a month or so while he figured some stuff out to leave. I won't say that I didn't mind, but I also understood, so I didn't make too big of a stink about it. I'm very happy, though, that I can say that I lived on my own for a year. Sure, my boyfriend stayed with me a few nights here and there, but I paid my bills all by myself, and that meant a lot to me to be able to do that.

Howl Manor was a place of growth and change for me. I got a promotion there. I cultivated a garden there. I discovered so much about myself there. It was almost as if the house itself was a fortress of strength for me. The house was old, so it creaked here and there, had a few insulation issues in the winter and in the summer; that being said, I wouldn't have traded it.

I loved that little house, and I hate to leave it behind. That being said, I can proudly say I have completed my goal of living on my own for one year, and now move onto my new chapter: Howl's Stationary Castle.

Now with a backyard that he can actually run around in!
This is a new chapter in my life, and I would be lying if I sad I wasn't scared.

Moving in with a new person after gong from man to man to man is, indeed, scary. I know all of the things that can go wrong, and for me to be optimistic at this point is for me to be, essentially, stupid. That being said, I can't do my boyfriend wrong by dragging my old baggage into a new house.

I feel that it's wrong of me, or any person, to bring old baggage into a new house because that new house had literally nothing to do with what happened to you before. It's not my new house's fault that I'm bruised and damaged and scared. It's not my new house's fault that I've had bad experiences with old houses. It's not fair to my new house to be sour about the past when I'm trying to build a future.

And that even includes tearing out old carpet in a new house to put down new flooring!
(Which looks glorious, by the way...)
Plunging in has always been my superpower, of sorts. It is a thing that friends have told me that they admire about me. I failed so many times, but at least I had the courage to try. My father, who is so very important to me, told me that the thing he admired about me the most was the fact that I have "sheer guts," that I have a "why not?" kind of attitude and that I go for it. I don't want to let go of one of the things that makes me special, so I will plunge.

Plunging is not taking a leap forward because you aren't scared; plunging into something new means that you are scared, but you're brave enough to take a chance that the fire within you will burn brighter than the fire around you. You take a chance, knowing that it could turn out poorly, but it might turn out great.

If there's a chance that it'll turn out as great as I hope it will, I'll take it. I can't speak for all, but I can say that the greatest regret I would or could ever have is the not knowing what could have been. I will always fear not knowing what could have been far more than the alternative.  After all, it is from our failures that we grow, that we learn. It is from our failures and how we rise from the fall which defines us.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I hope that the one person that does read this blog will read something that strikes a nerve with them enough to pass it along, or to make that change. If I can make a change for one person, then it's worth it.

Wish me luck. Let's plunge.