I’m going on a blog hiatus. Except on Fridays, because I should at least be able to come up with Get Meaningful Fridays. Hopefully I will have something exciting to report soon.
Also, if you haven’t watched Parenthood on NBC, you should. It’s hilarious. okthanksbye.
I can’t believe I forgot to do this the last two weeks! Fail. Although I think I can still get away with blaming it on the move. I’m still exhausted from that. That and the St. Patrick’s Day celebration in SF. 
Upon my return to the west coast, I realized I would be home in time for the San Francisco St. Patrick’s Day Parades. I have only been a few times in the past, but every time I went, I had a good time so I called up (and by “called” I mean I Facebook messaged. Hello 2010.) my cousin who lives in the City.
Technically he is my third cousin I think. Maybe second cousin once-removed, I’m not sure how that works. His dad and my dad are first cousins so if anyone know how the branches of family trees work, feel free to enlighten me.
At any rate, I’m always impressed that we hang out at all because when I tell most people that I’m going to hang out with my third cousins, their typical response is “hm. I don’t even think I know my third cousins!”
Seriously people, you need to start believing me when I say I have a big family.
I drove down the San Francisco and only had ONE moment of “Crimany, I didn’t miss this traffic and now recall why I didn’t like to drive to SF” which is way below normal for me. I met up with my cousins and my newly-turned-21-year old brother, where I bought him an adult beverage and from there, we went bar/pub-hopping.
Now, I had myself a grand ol time in San Francisco, but those that I know in New Orleans ahem My Old Boss’ Family, ahem contend that St. Paddy’s Day in the Big Easy is way better. Well I can’t compare the two since I didn’t make it to any parades last year (hi baseball season, have we met?) and I had left (obvi) before any took place this year. But two things in favor of the SF celebration: one, I wouldn’t have gotten to drink celebrate with my brother or my family had I been in New Orleans and two (and most importantly), I saved myself the image that would have surely been burned in my brain forever– and that image was my old boss (and his legs) in a kilt, parading. So score one for SF.
For the record, I’m expecting a solid retort out of my old boss to the above comment because I have never known him to be a loss for a comeback. I mean, how many other people do you know who wish to be roasted (Friars Club-style) for their birthday by choice? Yep. That guy. So fire away Mike, the comments section is open.
In a shocking turn of events, I brought my camera (mostly because I got this supercute St. Patrick’s Day scrapbook paper that I’m dying to use) and (some of the) evidence of my weekend was captured below.
Me and my younger bro
Nick, me, my brother Joe and my brother Ted
Every time I see this pic, it cracks me up. I really think it should be our next Christmas card.
My cousins and me: Sean, Siobhan, me, and Brendan
The corned beef and cabbage will be served Wednesday. I’ll be getting my crock pot on then. Erin Go Bragh!
…are on a moving truck en route to California. I’m typing this as I lay on my stomach on the floor of my empty apartment. Which is not, contrary to what I have seen on television, comfortable.
I stayed up all night to finish the packing and when the movers came this morning at 8:30, I was ready to roll. I glanced around the apartment and had a flickering thoughts of all the good times I had here in the Boot, which then turned into “am I doing the right thing?” which was subsequently followed by “I’m doing (and did) this all by myself” which was then all subdued by my venti Starbucks coffee, which fueled me til the late morning when I was almost falling asleep.
But yes, I am doing the right thing for me and it’s not like I’m never coming back to visit, but to my surprise, there was a pang of bittersweet. I didn’t expect that.
I also didn’t expect to tear up a little at this sight:
That is everything I own. Everything. Except a few outfits and my toothbrush. I just watched as my entire life was packed on a truck. Then I went inside and was surrounded by emptiness. Emptiness that needed to be cleaned, which is worse.
So I strapped on my headphones and iPod and got busy with the vacuum.
Then I took a break to write down my feelings of today for two reasons: one, so I wouldn’t forget them (obvi) but also because I was not expecting such bittersweet feelings. I really am shocked.
That’s not to say I’m not excited about going home. I really am. I don’t even mind living at the parentals for a while. I know I’m making the right call by heading west, but I had been so excited about going home that the finality of leaving kinda caught me off guard.
I’m not sure what to make of it, but for now, I will just throw it out there while it’s all fresh in my mind, and continue cleaning my apartment before I go wheels up at 3:25pm Central time tomorrow.