The Hajj

I’m writing from the back of the 9 AM United flight, from Newark to Denver. I’m glad I bought this ticket a month ago and got what felt like a deal, because this morning I paid an extra $200 for my overweight luggage. I want to acknowledge that a month is a quick turnaround to move across the country. It happened like that because of serendipity, and maybe because I pray for things to work out often. I can’t explain why God wanted me to pay $200 but maybe it’s just confirmation that I’m really meant to look cute and stylish in my new home, no bad fits.

For my move to vail, I have one massive ugly utility suitcase I bought at TJ Maxx in college. It was the biggest I could find at the time, and the biggest Ive ever seen since. It makes me really mad, how ugly it is. But looking at it next to my cute high-end luggage, I feel kind of dumb. Like, my carry on is not that big. I always thought that was in my head because I overpack so much. Still, we vacuum-shrank my clothes into 2 checked bags and a snowboardless-snowboard bag (I am buying a new one out there with my mountain-employee discount, ehheh grom). There’s a big pile of things on my bedroom floor that got edited out. My mom plans to ship that box, and I’m scared to hear how much it costs.

My dad was chaperoning my check-in process because I required that kind of hand-holding these past few days. I think I’m coming off as confused and my parents don’t seem to be suspicious, because apparently that’s just stress. To me, I feel like something is seriously wrong with me. It feels like my brain splattered on the ground and got put back in my head. I don’t really trust my motor skills, I’ve been shaky and my balance is off. Stress. Or the antibiotic I took that I’m lowkey allergic to and Idk why I knowingly said yes to it, my ear infection was just really bad. Whatever. I love that I have 2 unrelated things I can blame this feeling on. And despite that, and despite the emotionally and stressed last week I had, I’m feeling really good and peaceful about this move, and excited about the ski season all of which is a good sign that I made a good choice. This is the hard part. And usually after bad things, equal or greater good things will happen, like when the water pulls back before a wave. So I had a bad ear infection, and now I’m gonna have the best life ever.

Thanks to my mom, we got the luggage packed and shut, and thanks to my dad, we got it downstairs. This all happened last night. Like, after dinner. I am not a procrastinator usually, but I really did a great job proving that statement wrong with this move. I needed my mom to give me specific instructions, like directing me to put things I want into piles, then telling me to try on my pants (I fluctuate weight a lot). Even still, I was going downstairs to do the dishes and clean the kitchen (I enjoy doing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen). She was treating me like a gentle baby, and we took a break to eat a delicious and extra-special dinner. I was kinda choking back tears the whole meal, but whatever. My grandma and my brothers girlfriend were in attendance the night before, for my second-to-last supper, which made things less sad somehow. I was supposed to pack that day, but I hadn’t, so it didn’t feel like anything more than a really great meal, catered to me. And obviously I’d like every meal to be that way, you know? So my mom and I finished the packing, I realized half the stuff wouldn’t fit in the last suitcase and she said she would ship it to me (we are both chronic overpackers). So we got to wrap up 12, which was earlier than I expected. She directed me to shower and blow-dry my hair and I tucked myself right in to their bed. I don’t even cry or feel super sad as I’m falling asleep, cos I slept in their bed last night, and cried myself to sleep then to get it out of the way. It was very cute the way we all woke up to my Dad’s 6 AM alarm and had coffee as a group before we all drove to Newark. It was a big team effort to get me to Colorado, so as much as I’d like to pat myself on the back for this whole move and how great and seamless it was, I really depended on my parents, like, entirely.

So my parents have been babying me over the past few days, and months, and last winter they babied me too. And I’m really grateful, because I’ve really needed it. t’s unclear if this princess treatment is because I’ve spent the past week sick to my stomach with stress and uncontrollably crying, Or that my parents are really going to miss me way more than ever before. Either way, alll this niceness has been making me cry more, because I was like: I am going to miss my family SO much, and I love home SO much, everything is perfect here. But don’t get it twisted: I am so excited to move. I need something new. I need something to happen in my life.

Even though my move is relatively unconventional, and my family is very conventional, my parents keep saying they’re really happy and excited for me. And they’ve been saying it like they mean it. I figure they’re probably a little scared, but they haven’t said that part in front of me (which I’m thankful for). I think they believe it will be good for me, because I’ve had a hard time. Just blanket statement. I care a lot about what my parents think of my life choices, and even though I’m honestly really proud of myself for wanting to do this and for going through with it, my parents approval sealed the deal on the whole thing. Even though I think I’d die if I kept living life the way I was living it. I’m not sure how my perspective on everything got so bleak, but it did. And I need a total change like this to reset it. I think that’s a shared unspoken truth of this whole thing. Health and happiness maxxing.

I have not been well the past 2 weeks, first because I was sick, then because I was sick with stress. But my mind wasn’t like, racing with things that can go wrong (I fixed that, because of DBT). I was morso like, numb. Crying sporadically. Laughing at jokes I wouldn’t normally find funny. Confused and Dizzy and Shaking and jerking around. fuzzy vision. Not hearing what people are saying, zoning out all the time, bad sleep. Bla bla.I was supposed to see a bunch of people, various levels of importance, and saw literally no one. I said goodbye to my parents friends who came by to hang out and it made me well up with tears, so I wound up being okay without finalizing my exit from the city. I know my friends will visit me in Colorado because it’s a free stay in a pretty, expensive destination spot. So I know I will see them. But I got sad saying bye to the characters in my life, because it really felt like I was saying goodbye to my life as I know it. My life that had gotten so mundane and boring until unsatisfying. And now I am going on such a fun adventure. And I’m so excited, and it makes me smile a real toothy smile every time I think about the surprise and possibility that comes with something like this. I hate admitting that I smile at my thoughts, because I want to seem so chill and laid back, but I’m really not. I react to things and I am emotional and expressive. Like, for example, everyone in the Denver airport has seen me crying and cursing and muttering and laughing to myself all day. And my brain has not been working, I’ve never been dumber. From the stress.

Packing has really been a mental block for me lately. Especially for extended trips. Or like, moving across the country. But my panic was like when you start a new job out of college, and don’t have a good understanding of what business casual looks like, and how to make it cute. Like, I don’t really have an extensive mountain wardrobe. I don’t necessarily know outdoor gorpcore type style, my family isn’t really like that. I’ve been doing extensive research, because I want to look cute still. For the bears and stuff. And that has been stressing me out more than not knowing anyone out there. For all four seasons, I need to figure out how to look and feel cute while being relatively outdoorsy, instead of feeling cute in an office building (blessed be). So there was a lot to consider in terms of how to style what I already have, and what I should buy with my employee discount. But then I remember I like to dress up too, and I want to bring cute apres ski stuff, even though I’ll be working class, serving the people who are there for apres. This nuance did not change my thinking or my packing, and I brought the miaou dress I got on sale 5 years ago, because it’s arguably one of the cuter and more expensive club outfits I own. (I have a fellow TikTok friend who told me we are going to the club, BTW. She has a family house on a nearby mountain). So I pack my basically everything in my closet. Except my gross stuff. I’ll leave that gross stuff whenever I come home to NJ. And my mom’s like, yeah. That makes total sense (we’re having fun at this point, because you get to imagine where you’re going to be wearing everything and what you’ll be doing and everything in life is better when you’re wearing a super cute wool sweater that weights 5 pounds).

And then I’m crying, because I’m worried I’’m never going to see my home or family ever again.

But, as my therapist said, it’s time. She said this in response to my hysterical complaints about things that actually wouldn’t be a problem if I wasn’t a grown up living with my parents. And I never planned to live with my parents for too long in the first place. It was getting to be too long. Only because I stopped doing anything that people my age do. I know I’m not meant to live in my childhood hometown at 27, even though I appreciate the cute Gilmore girls thing it has going on, I am only meant to return. I want to go on adventures. (Keep in mind, in the past, partying was my adventure, so the NYC circuit was perfect for me).

Before I began this whole upheaval of my life, I had this loose plan. Funny enough, the timing actually worked out. I wanted to move home, use a good chunk of PTO traveling in Europe, come back and quit my job, live at the beach for the summer writing and paintings, and for the fall, I’d have to decide between a food-service job in Brooklyn or in the Mountains somewhere. My thought was, by then I’d feel good about working on my creative projects and then I could reintroduce a job and do both. Now, my loose plan is to work that job and simultaneously build my brand and do my art and writing projects.

What I did here worked for me because I was able to move home and not touch my savings while I figured it out. I am more productive when I am working a more formal job, where I have to show up and do things for other people. It’s a kind of momentum that is hard to replicate without real responsibilities. I think that people achieve this in creative spaces with lots of time and effort. My effort is just better while I’m working. Also, my parents would never let me not work for a prolonged period of time. They have this saying: we are a safety net, not a hammock. I am very blessed for safety net, and I am glad that my internal guilt and drive lends me to not want to chill in a hammock for too long.

I didn’t and don’t have details built out beyond this. I was hoping the universe would make things apparent for me, and so far it has.

Real Quick Travel Update: I was writing from the plane, and then I decided to lock in on the flight map and take advantage of my daytime window seat view. I want to be better at geography, I’ve been yearning for geography knowledge for awhile now, starting with the US. It’s very embarrassing when I am stumped and have no idea where anything is on a map. I’m DONE lacking that very important knowledge. So I was zooming all over that map, learning, getting a view of the landscape, which kind of looked like…. very alien. I was filled with alot of gratitude on the plane, as I often am (and sometimes plane rides make me weep for no reason). I was happy, even when the lady next to me tried to make a joke about me intently looking out the window. Because I am done caring what other people think, I am doing me, I am niche AF and someone doesn’t understand me we are not vibrating at the same frequency and I must not consider them, you know? Like I am gonna swim out on the map and I don’t care what you think about that, lady. And PSA: If anyone ever sees me en route, please know…. I do know how I’m being. I have my ways that keep me happy and stress free when I travel. I spend a lot of time studying the snack selection at the stupid kiosks, and I like comparing the prices to real-world prices, getting pissed off at the mark up, and buying NOTHING. That is a game to me. It brings me joy to exert my power over the airport kiosks, and when I do make a purchase, I know it’s meant to be, because I probably spent 30 minutes weighing all the pros and cons of my options, the combos I could buy, all the shit like that. Unless an airport is full of natural light and is structurally thoughtful, I don’t like them. But luckily, Newark United terminal is the HUB so it’s cute, and so is Denver airport. I’d know, because I’ve been chilling in here for 3 hours now.

Things went sour though. Temporarily, like a sour patch kid. My flight was delayed taking off, and I missed my shuttle from Denver to Vail. So here I am, camped out in the Denver Airport, kind of delirious. Appreciating the beautifully pitched and kind of dirty-in-a-rustic-way tented ceiling with the good uplighting. I have such an insane pile of luggage and it’s behaving like the last pull of a jenga tower. I made myself laugh (so I wouldn’t cry) imagining writing a book. How authors get so winding and detailed about scenery I’m like: wait, you’re doing a terrible fucking job describing the scenery, buddy, you don’t need to get so wordy here, IDGAF. 10 lines of descriptors about the shape of a building. Coming from me, a person who LOVES shapes of buildings, and textures, way more than the next guy prolly. it’s too dense to describe a visual like that, in my opinion. So I laughed because I pictured myself writing a serious sci-fi novel referencing the Denver airport with 0 descriptions. “It looked like the Denver airport”. That’s how I feel about life sometimes. Like there are references that everyone gets, and I don’t understand, and I need to understand everything. My therapist said you will never understand everything, it’s impossible, just let some things go. And I’ve been trying to do that lately, because some things aren’t worth understanding, anyways.

Just so you know: this airport is mind fckng me today. And I do like the tented ceiling, a lot. But I do not like this airport, it is not intuitive. I do know there are conspiracies. I always wonder who is in the room when decisions are made, everywhere. Not just at the Denver Airport, cos someone said the Illuminati are involved in the decision making. In which case: put me in the room. I need to know who said “this is something that everyone would understand”, and as a result, I’m bleary eyed frazzled and managing 3 unruly pieces of luggage while trying to decipher alien hieroglyphics on random cubic posts. Like, I’m in the airport, saying “What the fuck” out loud. No one wants that. And I am working on my potty mouth for the record. It’s not cute and there are better words to that can emphasize, I’m just trying to figure out what they are. I take an active approach to working on my stuff, which is why I say mention this. I think it’s a good way to be, and I had started writing a 75 Hard for Kind of Insane Girls that I had gotten away from. Anyways.

This new chapter is health and happiness maxing. The move to Colorado is the best case scenario for me. I’m really excited to be tucked in the mountains, enjoying nature, building a new life and making new friends, being sporty chic, having a job, and hopefully enjoying it. It’s important that I give myself space to tap into my creativity out there. I’ll probably need to put an easel and a canvas in my room, and I’ll need to order a new sketchbook and pens. When I put things in front of myself (like kettle bells if I wanted to lift more, which I don’t want to do), I’ll become guilty, and I work that into my day, like picking up a paint brush when I have some free time, which is good. It sounds too simple to say, but I feel like getting started with a hobby is the hardest part. It’s not that serious, and it took me 4 months of painting almost daily to start figuring out my style and how I like to do things.

I also feel like kinda proud of myself right now, candidly. I haven’t let myself think about my whole moving situation, because I’d rather live it with just vibes and think about it after, when I’m bored at work or something, rather than getting all meta and existential about myself. I don’t want to provide room for self doubt, and there is so much room for interpretation with what I’m choosing to do. And that is a risk in itself. A lot of friends and family friends could think badly about my choice. But I know for a fact this is the best choice for me. I’m really excited I actually did it, and I’m really excited that my family helped me do it, and I’m mostly grateful. I’m really grateful I got through the hard part, which is the Before.

It is a good lesson to learn: getting to know yourself outside of your friendships and the other things you identify with, relearning your preferences from that perspective, and then committing to always choosing your preference, even when it means going against the grain and going alone. With a caveat that in relationships, I think if your preference is a happy partner, you sometimes have to go with their preference even if it’s not the same as yours. But I’m single, so I don’t have to worry about that, and that’s why I can move across the country on a whim for fun. All the important boxes were checked: good job, good social life in a major city close to my family. That’s a beautiful set up. For a lot of people. I just like…. don’t want that. Those aren’t my boxes. I just checked them because I thought everyone had those same boxes, you know? But I don’t like doing what everyone else is doing. And I don’t like rat races.

What I do want, always, is the best case scenario. I don’t know what that looks like ever, and sometimes it looks pretty shite before it gets good. Like, missing the shuttle didn't really feel like a best case. Upon reflection, it’s definitely better that I got to decompress from a very overwhelming and teary morning in the Denver airport, instead of showing up rattled and with tears poking out of my eyes while I meet my roommates for the first time.

Only problem is that I have an absurd amount of luggage for one person to carry. especially me, who is really small and cute. And my roommates will either see me struggling and cursing like an ungodly sailor woman, or crying. And I won’t want them to offer to help, because I only like when random men offer to help me with luggage, because then I never have to see them again. One thing I’m taking note of is that Vail is apparently like a small town. And I have like, 20 minutes til I get there, so I need to sit and ponder. Consider things like perception. Like, I’m pulling up to my apartment in a polo bear sweater. And I asked my mom if that was a bad idea and she said who cares what anyone thinks. And like I said before, with the lady watching me play on the map, and with my “unconventional” move, I don’t care, this is my preference.

Wearing an expensive clothing will always be my preference (if available).