Moving On

Tomorrow I move into my apartment, like a real life grown-up. A totally foreign experience to me. When I graduated from high school, I chose to attend the local community college's culinary arts program. A bunch of things factored into my decision. Mainly money, private culinary school will run you about $40,000 a year, as well as I just wasn't ready to leave home. I have an amazing relationship with my parents, and I loved living with them. We've always communicated well, they support me in every decision I make in life, they always make sure I know how proud of me they are. Admittedly however, once my friend's left for college, I felt like I was missing out. So when I had the opportunity to move to Orlando and work in the happiest place on earth for a semester, I jumped at the chance. I was pumped to live on my own (in the Disney version of dorms, at least.) and work at one of my favorites spots in the world! What could be better? I flew down with packed to the brim suitcases, a few of my community college pals along for the ride, moved in and started work. It's an experience, that shaped my future career path, and developed me as a person. However to say I experienced crippling homesickness would be an extreme understatement. My brother got engaged, and my 2 best friends found out they were having a baby together, and I felt disconnected from it all. It didn't help that my room-mates who were both keeping up long distance relationships were possibly longing for home even more then I was. When I got back, I was certain I'd never leave again. So when I started thinking about life after graduation, proximity to home weighed heavily on me. But my mentors, the people in the wine world whose opinion matters most to me, thought the program at PCI was the right choice, and as my friend's who attended four year schools begin to plan their path into adulthood, I didn't want to limit myself based on past experiences. My brother, Christopher, has roots in California, I have none. His 3 closest friend's have settled on the west coast, and he's dreamed of doing the same for years. So when I started to seriously consider it, he said he wanted to come along for the ride.

Now we're here a month after leaving home, and everyday I feel more excited, more confident in my decision. I'm sure a lot of it has to do with the fact that I'm 3 years older, and more mature. But I think a lot of it has do with how much the people around me love California, my brother, his friends, they all love living on the west coast. I miss home everyday, that baby my best friends had, is now my 2 year old godson. A child I spent everyday with until I left. Leaving him was a thousand times harder then I could have anticipated, but he is surrounded by people who shower him with love constantly, and ensure he knows how important he is to me.


My parents, have an empty nest for the first time in 29 years, and I think they deserve some time to themselves.
My friend's are struggling with the same sort of decisions about life I was 6 months ago, and I feel well equipped to be there for them.


My oldest brother and his wife, real life adults, are always there for me to let me know things will work out, and not to stress, to take life as it comes to me.

(Awaiting permission from my brother for use of his image.)

I am blessed to have this cross country web of people to catch me if I fall, so that I felt confident enough to jump.

P.S. This post got pretty off track from where it began, but I'll write a post that actually talks about my new home and how I found it soon.

P.P.S Your comments would be appreciated, so that I can know people are actually reading this thing. What do you guys want me to write about? Do you like the set-up of the blog? The length of the posts?