April 10, 2011
Saying goodbye
I'm standing in my living room—standing, because every piece of furniture I own now sits crammed in an overpriced five-by-ten storage unit about 15 miles north of here. Tomorrow I finish cleaning up and then head out for one last dinner with Desiree, my dad, and his girlfriend Renae. We're really going to miss our place. Our neighborhood was all set to gentrify about two years ago, but then the recession kicked in and took down most of those plans. Instead of new restaurants, apartments, and expensive condos, it's still a diverse and mostly working-class neighborhood with many locally-owned shops, uneven streets and sidewalks, scattered bits of graffiti, and enough functional alcoholics to keep places like the Baranof and the Crosswalk in business. As it turns out, though, we're only speeding up a process that would have happened soon anyway. Last weekend Desiree learned that she has been accepted to Western Washington University for the upcoming fall quarter. That means we'll be moving to Bellingham some time in September, probably a month or so after I get back. Almost everyone we've talked to loves the place and we're both looking forward to it.
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