Thursday, May 15, 2014

I Have the Moving Blues. Or, I'm Not Sure I'm Ready to Say Goodbye Because I Still Love You.

In lieu of a genuinely sad picture, here is an Ibride tray depicting a pensive and decadent cat who reminds me of Oscar Wilde.
Having a new house makes me feel the way I imagine new parents might feel.: I'm proud, happy, exhausted, and I'm touching lots of disgusting things. Unlike a new parent, I'm engaged in a silent, antagonistic relationship... with the former homeowner. Here is a glimpse into her mind:

Redecorating is expensive. I ought to just smoke until the walls change color. And if I spill enough Coca-Cola on the floors and baseboards, then they'll change color, too! Never mind that the moisture will cause mold to grow under the carpet. At least it will steamline my cleaning routine.

I feel like a forensic scientist: Based on the furniture outlines left on the walls by nicotine, the traffic patterns in the carpet, the liquid spatters, and the placement of cigarette burns, I can determine exactly where the former homeowner spent most of her time and which rooms she rarely (if ever) used. I know she was left handed, and which nightstand she preferred to use, and which chair she sat on most often.

It makes me wonder what clues to my habits I'll leave behind when we move out of the condo. I sold the condo to my parents in March, and they plan to use it as a rental property. I can imagine the new tenants saying, "Those people definitely had a cat, and they were really bad at painting trim. At least they picked some sweet paint colors."

I hope they appreciate my beloved subway tile and marble threshold, and the black granite floor I spent so much f&%#ing time cleaning. I hope they love this place enough to tolerate the squeaky kitchen cabinets. In a perfect world, they'll regard the talkative cabinets with the same bemused fondness with which I regard them. And they'll never know about the many, many hours Keith spent repairing the icemaker, but I hope they enjoy the fruits of his labor.

As much as I already love the new house, it's hard to say goodbye to the condo where I spent seven years, found my passion for interior design, landed my first real job, finished my Master's degree, and fell in love with my husband. Heck, it's even where we shared our first kiss. I'm crying as I type this, because I put so much love into this place. I know we'll fill the new house with even more love, but it's hard to say goodbye.


  1. we have talked about eventually selling our house and moving and i love this place so much i can't even imagine it! what if the next owner doesn't understand and rips down all the wallpaper?

    1. YES. I keep thinking, "What if they take down the nice white subway tile?!" :(


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