Our Last Two

It just wouldn't be fitting if things ran smoothly for us, even for our last two days in NY.

Packing the truck was quick and painless though, especially for me, I just hung out inside taping up odds and ends. We we were lucky enough to have a bunch of our closest friends help us load the gross amount of boxes and junk we have accumulated over the past 5 1/2 years, it always sickens me how much stuff we collect and don't use. I can't imagine packing anything bigger than a 500 square foot apartment. We celebrated our hard work with pizza and soda, and stayed up past midnight telling stories and remenising. We hauled our luggage over to the Riches, we couldn't imagine spending our last couple days with anyone else, and crashed on their air matress. Around three in the morning we awoke to Luke vomitting in the crib. This was the first Luke has ever thrown up continuously. We stayed up with him almost the entire night feeling helpless as he rolled around moaning and whimpering. By morning, he seemed to be feeling much better, relieving us all. The idea of spending our last day with Luke sick was very depressing.

After getting dressed we headed over to Tom's restaurant, a favorite of ours, ate waffles and said our goodbyes to the staff. That afternoon Katie and I set out to return our cable box. Sparing the details, we spent an hour and a half getting lost only to get there and have to wait over an hour just to drop it off. Not exactly how I would have liked to spend my last day. Meanwhile Tom worked diligently trying to sell our car. We had to rid of it before we flew out Sunday evening. He dropped the price a few times and waited around for people to come see it, but the luck wasn't on our side. After giving up for the day, we cruised into the city for one last stop to H&M, Pinkberry, and Fabulous Franny's. By the end of our errands, Tom seemed to have caught Luke's bug and was to nauseous to carry on a conversation. We flew over the brooklyn bridge in silence and I dropped Tom off so he could run inside and most likely vomit. I spent the next twenty five minutes driving around the neighborhood looking for a parking spot. This as always is frusterating, but tonight, I had a girls night going away party for me that I had been looking forward to for weeks. I finally parked, got Luke out and as I walked the two blocks back to Katie's I too felt so nauseous I could barely walk. Katie was ready waiting for me, Tom was green and laying on the bathroom floor, and the only energy I could muster up was enough to fall onto the airmatress, only getting up to run to the bathroom after smelling the chicken noodle soup Chip had just warmed up. I threw up several times, then Tom. Even in those moments of misery I just couldn't believe we were really spending our last night in Brooklyn huddled over the toilet and laying on the bathroom floor while the party sadly carried on without me.

But we recovered. By morning we were able to go to church and say our last goodbyes. We got back to Riches at 2pm, only three hours before we needed to take off to the airport. Instead of spending that time with our friends, we spent it cleaning the apartment, packing our bags, and yes, desperately trying to sell the car. Tom finally confirmed a few appointments to see the car at 4:30, just a half an hour before we needed to leave. We really didn't have a plan B, we had to sell it. but with ten minutes to spare, Tom walked in with the plates and we all cheered. Just enough money to cover the cost of our refrigerator repair.

The Pulfer's and Clifton's, our longest NY friends picked us up for the airport and we said goodbye to our neighborhood for the last time.

My emotions are still to fragile to recount anything except for the facts of our last two days. When I am feeling a bit more stable I will attempt to document our feelings of leaving behind our favorite city, first home, best friends, and so many memories.

For the Style Hungry

One of my favorite things about New York is the fashion. It's not hard to find, in fact I am most inspired by people I see on the street. I love how even a simple top, lets say from the GAP can look completely different from one person to the next just by what it is paired with. This to me is what fashion & style is, personal expression.

Lucky for me, there are now many other ways for me to be inspired besides walking through the East Village. My friend Nick introduced me to facehunter. It's a lot like the Sartoralist, but a bit more eccentric, Europeans tend to take fashion a bit further than we have the courage to. But it is very inspiring and very addicting. And there are many many other links that will take you through the styles of almost anywhere in the world. I could easily waste a lot of time browsing and browsing, but I am up to my ears in boxes, and still have lots to do. So for now, until I have something interesting to report or say, enjoy some of my favorite looks from facehunter.

Marking the last

And this, I'm happy about. I love sewing, I love making new clothes, but what I don't love is my working space. I won't miss sitting on a bar stool, sewing on a 12' inch wide counter, packing up each time I want to make lunch or dinner, cutting fabric on the floor, accidentally turning on my cook-top when I set down my scissors, ironing in the middle of the kitchen, and finding thread in my food. 

I had Tom take these photos so I can always keep things in perspective. I can't wait for my own work space. A must have in our hunt for a new house.

And I had to get one more easy project in before I boxed her up. My friend Amy gave me some of her gauzy plaid fabric that I had been drooling over for weeks, and I couldn't wait to make something out of it, even amidst the boxes and mess. Luckily BBW's pattern #3835 is a snap. It's simple base provides so many options for different and unique tops, tunics, and dresses. It's my favorite of her patterns, and it only took me a couple of hours.

The lightweight loose style and fabric

of the shirt will be great for summer and layered with a light cardigan, perfect for spring.

Chewy & Delicious

Up until I got married and had Luke, February was sort of always a dreary month for me. I don't mind January so much. I can usually hold onto the coat tails of the holidays, still enjoying my presents, wishing people happy new year, and holding fast to my resolutions, but then February comes. The weather turns for the worse, it's cold, dark, snowy, and for me, miserable. I think that's why Valentines is stuck in the middle of February, no one likes it, and some cheering up, at least for some is needed.

And what is the best part of Valentines day? The candy of course. Going to the drug store takes on a whole new meaning for me. I head straight for the red aisle just to get a fix, and really all I need to do is look at it and I get happy. There is something about red candy that turns a smile to my lips, a similar reaction my husband gets to chocolate. I like that we don't agree on candy, I could pass an entire box of Jacques Torres chocolate for a bag of 99 cent red gummi hearts. I try to keep a bowl of them around through the time I see them first appear on the shelves until they are in the 1/2 off bin.

I think Sarah introduced Vanilla Creme Peeps to me several years ago. I really don't like peeps but the Valentine Vanilla Creme is very satisfying. And the a bag full of red and pink jelly beans? heaven.

I will be consuming a lot of red candy on the plane ride from New York.

Woes

Not much has been going on around here. I don't have anything interesting to report or say, and lately I seemed to be consumed only by the fact we are leaving in two weeks. The boxes are piling up, my apartment is slowly losing our stamp, and every night I seem to sob uncontrollably. I know things won't be so bad when once we get into the swing of things, but the leaving thing, I just don't think I can do it. I keep imagining myself on the plane as it flies above Brooklyn, straining my eyes through the tears just so I can get one last look at the city. It's torture, and I really need to stop.

There are many things that I am looking forward to though. Our refrigerator broke a month ago and for the last month we have only been able to buy enough food to keep in this cooler.  Unfortunately we have to replace the fridge before we leave, and believe me there are many other things I would prefer to spend that money on, especially since we won't be there to enjoy it.

But in reality, what we did have wasn't much bigger. An under the counter fridge seemed like a great idea for the space, but the icebox that only holds a couple of pint size Ben & Jerry's will not be missed.

And of course a nursery, or at this point a bedroom for Luke. I do admit I love waking up to his smile every morning, but being able to read a book in bed, or not having to tiptoe to bed in the dark will be oh so nice.   And just a place, not in the living room, for all of his toys.  We kept his toys to a minimum, until this Christmas. They all fit too nicely inside the cabinet, so nicely that I never wanted to take them out. It takes at least 15 minutes to carefully arrange them just to shut the door. But now, his Christmas is still all over the living room floor. And my only solution is a moving box.

And a parking spot. It has been so nice to have a car here, to not feel trapped in the city, but a driveway, or even a garage, life would be so much easier. I have become quite a pro at parallel parking, but that's not the worst part about it. The street sweeping 4x's a week. I have to move my car four different times just so the city can attempt to keep the streets tidy. And then trying to find a spot, or double parking for the hour and a half, only to move it back. And driving home at night, circling around and around for a half an hour just to find a spot four blocks away. Oh the things everyone takes for granted.

And honorable mentions. The tiny tiny bathroom with the tiny cabinet that everything falls out of every time I open it. The three cupboards I have for all of my food,dishes, bowls, etc. I can't wait to shop at Costco and be able to buy something that I can have room for longer than a week.  A table. Something  we can sit at for dinner that doesn't face the wall. A place for my sewing machine that isn't on the same 12 inch wide counter I eat at. My machine needs a weekly clean from the my nightly food splatters. A closet that actually fits my clothes. I like to purge, but I have to practically get rid of something to buy something.

But these are all really my sorry attempts to help me feel good about moving. In reality, we all sacrifice these things to live here.  Some days it's worth it and other days its not. I guess I will have to re-read this post every time I get sad. And when I just can't take it, I'll go on holiday.