It has started

What has started, you ask? The insanity. The questions. The doubts. The panic. The moving.

My car is filled to the brim with collapsed boxes garnered from my sister on Sunday, who just finished moving to Florida herself. It has been raining (storming, really) almost nonstop since then, so I've been unable to get them OUT of my car, which is smelling more and more like cardboard and dust every time I climb into it. Dan and I are continually discussing the merits of renting versus buying. Feelings of sorrow are already starting to wash over me as I realize things that I take for granted in Miami (knowing how to get places, knowing what places there are to get to, etc.) will be thrown out the window in two months.

I have lived in Miami my entire life, as has Dan for the most part. We don't know how to live in the big, bad Winter. I don't know how to drive in snow or sleet or anything other than rain or sunshine. Ice on roads? What? Winter clothing? HOW? Explain to me the mysteries of layering! I can do anything in photoshop with layers, but show me long underwear, shirts, and coats and you'll see me with a blank face. I sometimes grab a blanket when I get chilled watching TV with Dan when our AC is set at 70. I can't help but think "Can I REALLY survive up north? What am I thinking!" I've already had one Cleveland-related breakdown, resulting in crying on Dan's shoulder, brokenly asking "What... *sniff* if we *bigger sniff* HATE IT?? *snuffleBAWL*"

There are times when I think of the Impending Move and realize what a great opportunity it is. A new environment, a new city, more to do and learn, and, most importantly, NOT in Miami: the city I've learned to hate.

Then there are the times I think of it and wonder what insane whim prompted me to tell my company I'd move? Ack! A new environment! A new city! So much I have to do, and I don't even know how! And, worst of all, its not in Miami! How could they EVER think I'd move to Cleveland?? Its taken this move to make me realize, after years of hating Miami, that it does have a few good points.

In my honest moments, not enough good points to make me want to stay here, but more than I've given it credit for since staying here for college. There's just so many things we'd said we were going to do in Florida and haven't... waking up early one morning to go to Miami Beach to watch the sunrise over the ocean and then driving across to the west coast to watch the sunset in the Gulf. Visiting Saint Augustine, or the Dali Museum, or countless other places. We have precious few weekends left here in Florida, and many will be taken up by packing, family, and friends.

I can be the world's #1 worrier... and now I can't tell if I'm kicking into overdrive, or if my concerns are as valid as I think they are. I know Emily and her Hubby the Great will be a tremendous help -- in fact, they already have been! And I'm certainly looking forward to being in the same city as Emily; we haven't been since we met in that summer we interned together in Chicago. But I'm also certainly going to miss my friends here, the easy access to my family in other parts of Florida, and more. My sister and her family just moved to Florida earlier this month after being in North Dakota for six years, and now we're moving. If something were to happen to my parents, I'm a terrible entire plane ride away, instead of a short road trip.

I just feel so conflicted. I know this can be great, and I'm doing my damndest to make sure it will be, and it is exciting and new... but part of me is terrified at the thought of exchanging the comfort of where I've grown up for excitement and newness, and especially change. I have my good days and bad days thinking about all this. And I know I'm going to unashamedly waffle back and forth until we're up there, and perhaps even for a time after that. Today I'm sort of in between.

The Judgment of Six-Year-Olds

I saw my sister's family this weekend. It had been a year since last seeing the little ones, and they were enormous! Christopher is 6, Stephanie is 3, and Anthony is 1. Though if you ask Stephanie how old she is, she says 2, because my sister has her trained to get into Disney for free. But that is a whole other story. Ahem.

As you all know, I wear glasses because I'm practically blind in one eye. Christopher has a fascination with them because, in his words, "WOW! When I wear your glasses, my hand looks as big as yours does without them!" Thanks, Chris. Rub in your good eyesight to your poor Tia. This time, however, he reached a new high (or low?)...

Christopher grabbed my glasses and put them on. He actually looked really good in them; I'll have to post a picture once I get it off my phone. Immediately, he started shouting "I'M A NERD!" and making farting noises with his armpit. I'm not sure why this is funny, but to six-year-old boys, this is like Robin Williams, Dave Chappelle, Chris Rock, and Eddie Izzard all bundled up into one hilarious joke. He proceeded to do this over and over for about 5 minutes, in between insane gales of laughter.

At that point, my sister walked in, wondering what it was all about. Christopher got a bright idea: "Hi Mommy! Try these on!" and handed her my glasses. "Wow, you look like a grandma!" he giggled. Kelly gave them back to me, and I put them on because you get to miss depth perception after awhile.

Here is where I made my fatal mistake. "So if your Mommy looks like a grandma in these glasses, what do I look like?" I asked Chris.

How did that litte imp respond? "Like a nobody... just like yourself, Tia."

...Ouch! I tickled that little bastard until dinner time to make up for it.

It's official

I know, I am a horrible person and don't update as much as I should. But I have VERY good excuses. Between internet problems at home, continual traveling, and sickness, I haven't had very much time at ALL.

Oh yeah, and we're moving to Cleveland. AAHHHHH!!!