this is where we used to live
It’s empty. And I don’t really know what to say. I’m here in my empty apartment. We had lunch at one of our favorite restaurants. We took pictures. We’ve had several parties. We had a nice packing party last night where everyone came over and helped finish packing while playing cards and drinking beer.
This morning the movers were here and took everything away before I even knew what was going on.
Tonight is bar tour 2000, going to the bars where our friends work to say goodbye.
Maybe then it will feel like I’m leaving. Because even right now, as I’m typing on the floor of my empty apartment, it still feels like we’re going to go on a vacation, or just moving down the street.
We’ve taken to calling it an adventure. It sounds less like a life-altering event then. It’s just a little adventure we’re going on, like when people take time off to travel overseas. We’re going to travel to California, and see what’s over there. If we don’t like it, we’ll try somewhere else.
It’s strange, how people say goodbye. Some get clingy, and want to spend lots of time with you. Some see you just the same amount, but act like you’re going to just keep hanging out every weekend. Others ignore you, or don’t return your calls, or say that they’ve got plans and can’t come say goodbye. That way they don’t have to. Some create their own drama, so they don’t have to deal with yours. It’s interesting. I know I’ll miss everyone regardless of whether or not we got to give that last hug, but there are some faces I wish I got to see one last time.
This is a hard entry to write.
I’m saying goodbye to Austin. I really do love this city. I’m sure I’ll be visiting. I already have plans to come down in the spring, and I still do some voice-over work stuff that’s based here. It’s just knowing that I have to plan to come here, or make vacation days to come here that’s hard.
We have to take the cats to Weldon and Martinique tonight. We will be sad, leaving them for a few days. I hope they have a safe trip.
The nice thing about that is Weldon and Martinique will be in LA on the other side of our trip, so we still get to see them again.
Seven years. I’ve lived here for seven years. I certainly never thought I’d be here this long. I’ve never been in one place for this long before. I got used to it. I’m used to the skyline and the roads and the side roads and shortcuts and all of the things that you know when you’ve lived in a town for a while. Austin is also a pretty small town, so generally I’ll run into people I know when I go out at night. That’s nice. I know I won’t have that in LA.
LA! It used to be so far away, such a distant concept, and here it is. Tomorrow. I leave tomorrow morning and I don’t stop driving until I reach my new home. My furniture is already on its way there. My bed is closer than I am. We still have a few things to do around here… cancel the phone, return the cable, vote and clean… but all of the big stuff is already done. I’m used to this giant swarm of activity until you sit back and you’re already unpacked and in the new place. Now I’ve got this hang time. Here, tonight, in the empty apartment, and over the next two days when I drive across the country to a new time zone.
I hope I like it there. I hope it likes us.
Oh, so sad all of this. Saying goodbye. I’ve been putting this entry off all day.
In any event, this is it. This is the last entry from Austin. This is where I turn off the computer, unplug the iBook from its home in the living room, under the futon, and I move it to the new place. This is where we turn in the keys and head towards the next part of our lives. This is where we see what happens next.
We love you, Austin. We already miss you. Thank you for everything. Every single one of you that’s been in our lives over the past years, you have an incredible place in our hearts. You always will. Please don’t let the ease of reading the webpage keep you from keeping in touch. Just because you know how we’re doing doesn’t mean we don’t know what’s going on with you. We love you.
Wish us luck.