Hello State Street

I’ve known I’d be moving since late March, and yet I was so unprepared to transition from my rather barren and ultra-tidy studio to the sure to end up cluttered one-bedroom I’m now in with Joel, that the past weekend was excruciating. On Monday morning, after two full U-Haul loads and a gazillion elevator trips up and down, five hours of cleaning my old apartment and five hours cleaning my new one, two arms and two legs spotted with red bruises, plus five more hours of volunteer work for Sustainable Connections thrown in on Sunday, I could barely believe it had really all happened.

I called in late to work Monday in order to turn in the keys to my studio, and stopped back by the old place en route to Windermere. When I looked around, it was pristine and fresh; I already missed the vast Southeast view of the Bellingham skyline and the tree branches that overhang the D Street entrance. In contrast, my new apartment – in addition to being horrifically disorganized – smelled like cigarette smoke and toxic chemicals.

I’ve now moved 21 times in my life, which seems like an awful lot for being only 25. At one year and two months, my last studio was the place I’ve lived the longest since moving away from home. It’s also the only place I’ve really been hesitant to leave. I generally look forward to moving: the first few nights in a new place echo with possibility and things you've forgotten you had turn up in unexpected places. Although my studio never grew old to me, the idea of a cozy apartment with Joel was too good to turn down. I’ve been overwhelmed by the dumpy-cheap motel smell of the new apartment, the lack of sleep and the torrent of fast food I’ve been living on for nearly two weeks, but the worst is over and I’m optimistic. I’ve armed myself with a gallon of vinegar, baking soda, and a spray bottle full of diluted cedarwood oil. And tonight, I made my very first home cooked meal in what seems like a month: Heidi Swanson’s Lively Up Yourself Lentil Soup. I adore Heidi Swanson – I love her writing for being thoughtful but non-chatty; I love her recipes for being wholesome but inventive.

Tonight, a towering pile of chopped kale was an oasis in the Pizza Time pizza desert I've been traversing; dicing an onion at the counter and stirring the soup on the stove made me forget that splayed behind me was a living room that looks like this:

I have yet to buy saffron, so I used plain yogurt with no pizazz for the topping. I’ve been lusting for saffron since the first time I attempted to cook a meal – a (not very good at all) paella, made in the apartment I subleased from Don McMaster during the summer of 2003. Crystal and I had to add half a block of cheddar cheese to make it palatable. I intend to make some sort of milestone out of the day I buy saffron for the first time – I’ve been saving that day up, actually, for a time when I really need something spectacular to happen.

Aside from the move, I was one of the many judges at Pizzafest 2009 in Fairhaven the weekend before last and gave my very enthusiastic vote for best pie to Pizzazza. The pizza they brought for sampling was, I believe, the Rustic Chicken - so delicious and definitely worth tasting yourself. My volunteer gig on Sunday was inspiring: for Sustainable Connections’ Imagine This! Home and Landscape Tour, I was stationed at the home of Wildroot Botanicals' Leslie and Orion, who have chosen to use their front yard as an enormous vegetable and medicinal plant garden. They also keep chickens, and have a greenhouse already boasting red tomatoes – all on a residential lot about a mile and a half from downtown. I was, and am, awestruck, and could have sat out in their yard under the Mock Orange tree all day.

Joel returns from a three-day camping trip tomorrow, so we’ll finally be able to tackle this new apartment together. I have lived with one boyfriend before, and Joel has lived with two girlfriends. I can't help but wonder if we'll bring any of these past people into our new home - if their habits and interests are embedded in our own. I guarantee it will turn out marvelously; the place will air out, we'll buy a nice couch, maybe start making homemade ketchup.