A different trail of tears

“Hey, I might be moving back to Seattle. We’ll talk more tomorrow night.”

Those were the words that sent my newly calmed life back into a tailspin. As my roommate and I chatted in between her return flights from Seattle, that bomb was dropped. Upon her return to Ghetto-more, I got the full scoop: Dad’s health is not well and it’s time to get her brother away from his less than desirable crowd that he currently runs with. Combine this with a strong family presence in the land of flannel, Starbucks and rain, and you have the newest upheaval in the pathetic after-school special that makes up my life.

Six months earlier than we had ever planned, we are discussing who gets the couch, what silverwear set goes with who, who gets custody of Tivo…discussion of the chandelier in the kitchen has been postponed. We just got the damn thing working.

The thought of breaking our lease and leaving Baltimore does not sadden me one bit. I’m thinking the fact that my car has been broken into twice may have something to do with that. And with the fact that while I like living alone, living along in Ghetto-more makes me ever so slightly scared shit-less.

Boxing up all my crap, less than 6 months after I moved in does not sadden me, despite the fact that I have more furniture, books and assorted crap now than I did before. (moving sale TBA)

Deciding not to return to grad school, previously the one thing in my life that drove me and was my reason for being, does not sadden me.

Leaving my neighborhood of friends (and assorted felons) doesn’t sadden quite as much as the following…

Living with a roommate was not a particularly enjoyable experience while in college. With the exception of a partial-semester roommate, all of them were nutjobs. Granted I went to a nutty Baptist college, with nutty Baptist students with nutty Baptist ideology, so this may have played a large part in my dislike of my roommate selection. I had, until recently, been content with the idea of living alone. The more I contemplated my singleness, the more I realized that I was getting set in my ways and should I ever meet that dark-haired hottie of my dreams, perhaps I should smooth a rough edge or two with a roommate.

While that was my mentality going into my current living situation, I quickly found that I had a good friend in my roomie, one that accepted my many idiosyncrasies and perhaps even liked me better for them. A friend that got me addicted to Tila Tequila, sushi, Coach purses, mango martinis and Family Guy. I liked having someone around to chat with and learned to dislike the silence when she wasn’t around.

So while the thought of returning to DC fills me with happiness, the thought that I will be doing so without my current partner in crime saddens me. I’m back to being alone and I’m not sure I like it.

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~ by pithycomments on January 14, 2008.

3 Responses to “A different trail of tears”

  1. Oooh since its an afterschool special, can I just say… “You’re not alone, you have us”

  2. I for one am stoked that we can plan more cat play dates.

  3. […] the “announcement ,” I have been in an apartment hunting frenzy, the likes of which haven’t been seen […]

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