Settled

Things have been crazy lately. But also, somehow, not at all.

Here's the thing: I finished working full time at the restaurant two weekends ago. I picked up shifts here and there to clean as they were getting ready to close last week, but I was pretty much done. That's about 50 hours a week, gone.

Anyway, basically I'm in a transition phase right now. Trying to find other work somewhere else, going to several interviews a week, applying for a couple new jobs a day. It seems like my job prospects shift each new day with one phone call, one set of email exchanges, one rejection, one application. I've applied to upwards of... 50 jobs in the past month? And heard back from maybe about 10? And denied one offer, didn't get one offer, and still waiting on the others. Some, more promising than others. All with the purpose of making enough to move out.

I wrote at the beginning of the summer about purging my life and packing it up, ready to go. And this entire summer, I've been waiting for an opportunity to go. To move out of my parent's house, to have my life figured out, and to unpack and settle somewhere more permanent.

As it turns out, my parent's house has been my living place for the past five months. I never thought I'd still be here, and this whole waiting to leave thing is getting really exhausting. Having my life packed up and ready to go, like I was a guest in their house waiting to go to my real home, dragged on too long.

No matter how much longer I'l be here, I just need to settle. I need to unpack and to accept that this is my home now, even if that may change in a matter of weeks. I need to really be where I am (don't mind my cliches).

This attitude of packing all my belongings into the closet inadvertently gave me the mindset that I didn't belong, that this room wasn't really mine, that I was restless for a space that was really mine, later on. Maybe it's this instinctual fall nesting thing? Is that real? Apparently.

Anyway. I've unpacked. I've settled.

Still waiting for an opportunity to leave though. But now it will feel like moving from one home to another, instead of leaving vacation that dragged on to long. For this week at least. One day at at time.

Upheval

Almost four weeks ago I graduated from college, moved out of my dorm and back into my parents house in a flurry of emotion and trash bags full of crap. That weekend was so overwhelming. I think dumped all my stuff on the floor in my room, had some ice cream and wine and fell asleep at 8pm.

The week that followed was when it all sunk in. I'm back in my old room full of old stuff from my childhood, most of which I didn't bring to college with me for four years. Every year I seemed to bring less and less stuff, and every year I would bring a bunch of bags home early of stuff I hadn't used.

I had so much crap I didn't need.

That week I went into full purge mode. I ended up throwing away four trash bags full of stuff from my closet and donating 10 bags to Goodwill. I put all my stuff I didn't need now, but thought I might need one day (pots and pans, bowls, microwave, you know) and put a small box in my closet. I emptied all my drawers, shelves, boxes and bags and edited my closet down to two boxes, my guitar and ukelele and a small pile of shoes.

That was phase one. I was throwing away boxes from high school, middle school and elementary school, full of stuff I didn't even remember or had no idea why I was saving. I was giving away clothes I hadn't worn in years or had forgotten about. It was the "I don't even know what this is I'm getting rid of it" phase.

Then there was phase two. That happened earlier this week.

This was the real thinker. It involved true pondering about the future: what do I really need, what are the essentials to living if I'm moving out soon? Do I really want to take this with me when I leave?

This was the clothes and shoes I was only keeping cause I felt like I should wear them, but never really did. This was the posters and books that I was mostly keeping for show. This was the fifth unnecessary mason jar or the box of tea bags I've had for four years that I felt like I should drink. Getting rid of these things was surprisingly liberating.

Once I got rid of clothes that I never truly liked, I realized I had so much to wear. Everything in my closet is something I have worn a million times, and liked. All my shoes are awesome. All my books and posters are pretty to look at or stimulating to read. And none of this is to keep for show, it's for me. It's mine.

Everything I own and will take with me when I (eventually) move out of my parents house is in my closet right now. It all fits into a small space. This is incredibly liberating: I can just leave, whenever I want. And I bet you all my clothes fit into one or two trash bags now, instead of seven.

The next phase I'm anticipating is the object-by-object analysis. While going about my life, I will notice more and more things that are unnecessary. I will ponder this bag for a week and maybe get rid of it, I will test out these shorts for a few days and actually decide how I feel about them. If I'm not completely taken, things will go. Steadily, one by one. Not in huge chunks like they have been so far.

Geez will this post ever end???

In conclusion, getting rid of crap feels good. I am now completely aware of everything I own, which has never happened before. I emptied and analyzed and I really own everything in my space. And one day when I have my own space, there won't be that random box of crap I don't recognize. It will all be mine.

It's also a metaphor, I decided. Getting rid of physical things from past lives feels like letting the past lives go, and the inevitable leaving of a physical space where I've lived for so long feels like releasing everything built up about that space and that life and that time. Not that I want to forget. I just want to leave the space in peace, bringing all my roots with me.

Empty rooms, empty heads, amiright? Former packrat turned minimalist, out.

That one time I lived in a freshman dorm (as a senior)

This post was inspired by this post, in the style of Natalie Holbrook, one of my favorites. 

I loved living in a freshman dorm. Let me repeat.

I LOVED LIVING IN A FRESHMAN DORM. 

Now that it's over, it's time to reflect. There are countless reasons a senior would never choose to live in a freshman dorm: it's smaller, it's much louder, the rooms are smaller, the hallways are crowded, the entire building shares one kitchen, there are only a couple common spaces, everyone is younger and rowdier, freshman hill is crazy at night... etc. You get the picture.

These are all the reasons I LOVED it:

I loved the crowded hallways. I loved walking about 6 inches to my left or right and being in someone else's room. Or a few steps down the hall. I loved popping in on people in living spaces right next door to me. 

I loved sharing a bathroom. I loved watching people put on makeup or brush their teeth all together. I loved showering and talking to people next to me who were showering. I loved that the water turned super hot whenever someone flushed the toilet. I loved talking to people while they were pooping. 

I loved having a teeny tiny room. I loved hitting my head on the ceiling almost every morning, I loved getting into my lofted bed and having to go pee and get all the way down, I loved crowding people on one couch to watch a movie on a laptop, I loved sitting on the floor to eat cereal because there's no room for a table. 

I loved sharing a kitchen!!!! I loved making mac and cheese while someone else was warming up hot chocolate while someone else was making brownies for a friend's birthday while a million other people were out in the lobby going "wow that smells good, can I have some?" 

I loved the freakin lobbies. I loved playing ping pong, getting bored and inventing another game (face pong, hand pong, basically anything else other than paddles used as paddles. Gold, I tell ya.) I loved the broken pool table and the ripped pockets where pool balls would fall to the floor every few minutes. I loved sitting in shack, being on duty and creeping on couples on the couch. I loved hearing the laundry machines shaking the ceiling and the screaming from upstairs. Someone's doing laundry! Someone else is fighting upstairs with their roommate! Someone else just fell out of bed!

I loved hearing everyone's footsteps and the sounds from upstairs. I loved getting a text from my neighbor above me saying "lets go" and then hearing her feet hit the floor above my head and walk down the hallway. I loved when the girls above us had a trampoline in their room and we heard every single bounce. I loved when the girls above us would run down the hallway and we would wonder what they were doing. What on earth were they doing?! 

I even loved when people would drive around in the middle of the night yelling GO TO BED FRESHMAN!! Because how ironic is that?! You're just waking us all up! We were sleeping peacefully. This was hilarious. 

I loved the community. I loved that you recognized everyone that lived in the building, waved at them in the hallway even if you didn't know their name, and got close to people simply because of proximity. I loved late night hallway conversations and falling on the floor laughing in someone's room and screaming a cheer outside and yelling at people through windows. 

This morning I woke up and I was in a house, in a room with no neighbors. My next door neighbors currently are a hall closet and a bathroom. How boring is that. The kitchen is only shared with 4 people, and the community spaces are too big for all of us. You know, this can be nice. But it's not what I'm used to. 

I loved getting to know a floor of girls. I loved getting to live life next to a team of other RAs. These people have a special place in my heart. 

But now, getting used to living in a home is something else entirely. Another phase of life. I do hope that in another phase of my life I get to live in a dinky building that holds 150 people that are just as excited about all of this as I am. 

Here's to knowing what you want in life!

10 things I learned from living in a tiny space

This year I live in a closet, almost quite literally. My parents' walk-in closet is bigger than my room. I measured. 

In all honesty though, I was really excited to live in a small space. Each year of college I think I've brought less and less stuff, and this year involved a drastic edit in lifestyle to live in a space that was less than half the size of my smallest room to date. Pairing down is good sometimes, you know?

Anyway. These are the 10 things I learned from this year of patience and love in less than 90 square feet of space.

1 - Pairing down is ultimately liberating not limiting

Going through this summer and thinking seriously about what I really need to survive was really good. Pots and pans? Nah. Forks and spoons? Maybe like 2. One cup. One jacket. One pair of boots. One blanket. You know, just the essentials. I mean, do you really need a straightener and a curling iron? Just go natural. Do I really need a dehumidifier? Open the window. Do I really need all those paint brushes? See what you can make with just one. Challenging, but ultimately, really freeing.

2 - Having less makes you value more

I don't have a guitar in my room. There just isn't the space for it. But I do have a ukulele! And this has been wonderful. I like to sit underneath my lofted bed in my hammock and play my ukulele and pretend I am so very hippie-like, you know? I value my uke, dang it. I love every little thing in my room, because there isn't room (physically or emotionally) for things I don't value or care for.

3 - Keep the floor clean

When the couch and the ottoman and the bed and the hammock and the desk are all taken up by people sitting, the very last resort is the floor. And you want more people to be crammed in your room obviously. And who wants a clump of hair or a leaf or spare crumbs stuck to their behind when they leave your room? Not I, said everybody ever. Make your space inviting and clean, vacuum the floor. On the plus side, it takes about 1.64 minutes, because your room is tiny.

4 - Privacy is overrated

When your room is this small, people are all up in your business. I'm an extrovert, and I love this usually. But when I don't, I can shut my door and still hear everything that's going on around me. It turns out that this season of life means living in community with people and having everyone in close quarters, and what a great season of life it is. 

5 - "Let it be useful, but above all, let it be beautiful" - Natalie Holbrook

This could not be more true. Things in my room have to have a purpose, and even better if they serve a dual purpose. But if their dual purpose is to be useful and ugly, then it must go. Things in my room need to be beautiful, because I see them everyday and I can't avoid them. End of story.

6 - You use what you have, you don't use what you don't have

This is simply the truth. I don't use a crock pot or a desk chair or a hair diffuser or a TV because I don't have one. Makes my life easier. Plus, if you are reeeeeally die-hard in need of these things, odds are you have friends who have them. And when you borrow things from people, you talk to them. And when you talk to them, you become better friends. Life is cool that way. 

7 - Clutter begets clutter: likewise cleanliness begets cleanliness

When I leave my desk surface to it's own defenses, it gathers crap. The more crap there is, the more crap seems to pile up. Doing a simple clean sweep of my desk makes my room feel so much more inviting. The less space there is, the less it takes to make it feel clean. However, beware the alternative: the less space there is, the less it takes to make it feel dirty. 

8 - Opening doors and windows makes extra space

Open doors make happy floors. Open windows make for interesting conversations with passersby. And neither requires someone to actually be in your room, making your space feel that much bigger. I'm telling you, the power of screaming conversations down the hall is gold. 

9 - Ditch the chair, buy a couch. 

Why would I sit at my desk on a chair when I could sit on a couch? Hello. Couch all the way. When I found myself sitting on my couch to eat, do homework, read, watch movies, and literally everything else that requires my bottom to be planted, I realized that I don't need a chair. Bonus: I could store my small fridge in the gaping hole left under my desk! And more people can sit on a comfy couch than a small wooden chair. Friendship. 

10 - The things that make your space feel like home are not really things

I realized that all the comfort and love I felt came from people, and not from being surrounded by a large space full of things. I knew this, but I really know it now. It takes a small space and a minimalistic attitude to bring it out. I love the people I have surrounded myself with in this space, and I wouldn't trade them for the luxury of a larger room. Ever. 

Ode to a community bathroom

When I really sat down and thought about my fondest memories of late, at least in this past year/season of my life, the first thing that came to mind was the bathroom.

At first this seemed strange. I wasn't really sure why this was the first thing that came to mind, but then after I thought about it, I couldn't think of a better answer. This space has contributed significantly to my sense of beauty and place and belonging. 

Okay let me explain. 

The bathroom itself is nothing special; the cracking yellow tile from the 70s on one side, running onto the white tiled walls and rusty mirrors on the others, mirrors that reflect the four yellow bathroom stalls, and me when I come out of those stalls early in the morning with a squinty face and a grumpy disposition.

The other people reflected in those rusty mirrors in the morning are the freshman that I am in charge of loving for the year, girls who will spend anywhere from 5 minutes to two hours in front of those rusty mirrors every day.

Blow-dryers, hair straighteners, washcloths, mascara, eye shadow and toothpaste litter the countertops every morning, while other sleepy faces emerge from the stalls to begin their regimen for the day. Girls transform themselves from puffy-faced, tired and vulnerable freshmen to confident, made-up and fresh-faced women ready to take on the world. These same women come back later, tired from long hours of conquering and strutting their way through their day in confidence, to take all that make-up off and shake out their hair, their newly tired eyes now glowing from the adventure of a day just past.

I have a personal belief that the way a girl gets ready in the morning is like a micro-anthropological study, and is a fascinating way to get to know who someone really is. 

I get to watch these micro-studies every morning and evening. Girls whip out this or that product, brush their hair in this or that way, or not at all, brush their teeth spitting every few seconds or every minute, and go about their habits they are so used to without realizing how interesting it is to observe.

One girl may shower in the mornings, blow-dry and straighten her hair while brushing it, put on foundation first, then eyeliner, then shadow, then mascara, then go get changed and come back for a final check and a teeth-brushing. Another girl may have showered the night before, do nothing with her hair and only put on a small amount of mascara after getting dressed first, then brush her teeth when she comes back after lunch. These girls have been doing their routines for their whole lives, and never take much notice to each other’s quirks and special rituals.

At night, when the make-up comes off and the sweatpants come out, the girls open up and empty themselves of all the vulnerable thoughts they had been thinking all day, but couldn’t let out through the mask of make-up and nice clothes they’ve donned to seem perfect. I do love seeing them this way; is so much more special. The most honest conversations happen immediately after these facades come off, when they are tired from a long day and bearing their honest selves, outside and inside. Some of my favorite conversations have happened barefoot in front of the mirror with mouths full of toothpaste.

It is so unique to get to know someone in this way. Even though these girls may never be best friends with everyone on our floor, they will know one another in a way that no one else can know them. Living alongside someone and seeing them in all facets of their life, not just during the day when they are at their best, is a privilege and has been taken for granted for most of the year so far. This is one of the most unique experiences, getting to know someone like this, and is something that I will cherish for a long time.

When I first came to college, on of my biggest fears was using a community bathroom with 25 other girls. I was afraid that I would never be able to get a shower or a sink, that everyone would be too in-my-business, and that I wouldn’t get any privacy. 

Now as a senior, I consider this time living and using a community bathroom with 25 other girls to be one of the most formative experiences of my life. I will never get to share this space with this many people ever again, and it turns out privacy is overrated. 

As much as I desire to be known in this way and accepted by other girls, they want this just as much. It is a privilege to get to love them in this way and in this space, and I will be thankful for this forever.