The Rest is Still Unwritten...

When I turned a ripe 18 I made several exclamations about my distaste for living in the small farm town, now covered with subdivisions and growing commerce, and how I would NEVER return home. I wasn't bitter, and I didn't have a poor outlook for any particular reason. It was just a solemn vow I made to myself. I just needed to do it for me. To say I've accomplished something and made something of myself.

Recently, that outlook changed drastically.

Friday marks the end of another chapter in my life. Friday, after four and a half years in Grand Rapids, I will pack up my belongings in the cubicle of my first career job post-college. I will turn in my keys to a company I have worked for for two and a half years and gave me my first shot. As the thoughts haze through a bittersweet stage I can only be excited for what opportunities I was given, what I got to learn, experience and be a part of and yet, what is to come for me. 

I have accepted a position with the University of Michigan Development & Events department in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Literally, with the aid of a friend, my resume got into the hands of the right people and within a week and a half an offer was made. I feel extremely blessed, fortunate and lucky to have been put in this position and cannot WAIT to see what the next chapter of my professional life has to offer.

Career aside, I can think of one big, blonde guy who is as absolutely as ecstatic as myself. Obviously a severe majority of the reason for my move, it will be the first time in almost two years I will live within 15 minutes of my boyfriend. An odd concept for myself to digest, I have grown to love, laugh and play with a guy, and made it work 150 miles apart. (Shocker- in all forms) Being so close is going to take some adjusting- inherently to my social life as a bachelorette in a city, to a small town girl back home after so long. I'm not ready to "run" into everyone from my past in the grocery store and the library just yet, but the distant thought of comfort makes me smile. Plus, Applebee's is going to get some new regulars after 9pm as Shannon needs to work on her HS Trivia odds... #rainman

My friendships won't dwindle, as that's always been a major staple in my life, and everyone knows that I can't sit still on the weekends. I'm thrilled to have met the people Grand Rapids living has brought into my life. I know I sound like a broken record but the blessings I've received in the people that I've come to know as friends in this city, I will be forever indebted to. I moved here knowing approximately 1.5 people and leave with a plethora of laughs, memories, tears and photos. From my GVSU days to my Outback days, from my pre-drinking age to my bar star years, to my good friends whom are scattered around this area to my co-workers, my life is so complete with every one of you and all of the memories we've shared. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you... for everything you've ever shared, helped or given me.

This city has brought a whole new aspect to my life, my outlook and my attitude. Once a huge "East side" advocate, I now find myself quite content with having experienced both sides. The weather, the commerce, the night life, the amazing opportunities for youth and young adults, the arts, the religion, the politics, the venues... absolutely everything has been simply wonderful. Brian and I shared many of our "firsts" in this city- museums, carriage rides, outdoor NYE celebrations, Art Prize, Griffins games, piano bar... the list goes on and on. Therefore I am assured it will remain important to us in our continued romance and adventures yet to come.

...And the DREADED "breakup"

99% of the people I've spoken, texted, emailed or confered with over my decision to accept this offer and move home has had an intial response, "What will Amanda do?" 

(Preface: I do not speak in third person. If you're new to my blog you'll quickly gather through the archives that Amanda is my roommate of over three years, my best friend and to most- my heterosexual life partner. Our relationship is quite odd and sincere in a multitude of ways. We hardly fight- rather at most, agree to diasagree on certain topics. People often think we're sisters and some have gone to the extreme of asking if we're twins. We co-exist freakishly natural. We spend time at home every evening, working out, going out, involving each other in our work outing as are usual "go-to" dates, we talk pretty much on and off all day on gchat, and spend at least one day a weekend in each other's presence, usually trekking on another adventure. I SWEAR we're not gay, although that is a favorite word in our lives, we just work out in never talked about perfect way.)

We haven't talked about it really- which is a common theme for a lot of large emotional situations between us. We're human and we're female, which pretty much sums up crying at least once a week to some Lifetime movie, or cute internet discovery- meaning, we both know how it is. She's told me she's happy for me, and I know she means it, it's just hard to realize that it'll never be the same- as much as we try. I could go on for pages, day and what seems like a lifetime of all that we've been through. I'd probably laugh and cry just a little more than I am now writing this, but everyone's who has seen us interact knows how we are. It's hard to think of not coming home to gush about our days, work drama, boys or Facebook discoveries, but we'll manage- I think. But in lieu of my departure, a few words for you Ging:

To my twin, friend and heterosexual life partner,

Thank you for everything. Without each other, I know we could have made it in this town, although advocating our East side love and king bed together truly made the ride worth it. My life, my love, my friendships and my faith wouldn't be where they are now without you. Thank you for being a staple in my everyday life. I will miss dinners, drinks, dancing and laughing our way through this life on an everyday basis, but it will only make our weekends that much more fun. I want you to know I think the world of you, who you've become and what you have to offer this life. If it wasn't for your job, and your awesome co-workers, I would put the pressure on hardcore to come "home" with me, but we both know it would be a losing battle. Our debauchery will continue on a limited basis, and for that I'm very excited. I still hope to party with KK and the clan at tailgates and shoeless bars, and use some personal days on events you may need a "date" to for work. I can't wait to continue planning all of our group activities with you via gchat and discover more towns like Lima. Keep the Dream and the 312 spirit alive for me. 

Love you. Night.

So homeward bound I will go. Friday marks the last day of work. Saturday marks the day where I pack up all of my clothing and bathroom belongings to take for the initial move. Easter Sunday I will spend with my mother's family in East Grand Rapids at my aunt's house then move back in with my old roommates, Theresa and Dave, until Brian and I figure out our next move. 

Monday, I turn a new page.

Y'all got drama, "The Saga Continues..."

And by Saga I mean running.

Yes, I said it, running. Running isn't so much running in my case, but more of a combination of walking, jogging, trying to breathe and also not black out at the same time sounds about standard. It's not glamorous, that much is true. The only person that actually looks magnificent doing it thus far is Amanda, my roommate, whom seems to glide on the surface, instead of galloping like a herd of horses, or me. But nevertheless, we'll use running in the context, but you get the picture.

How it all began at this point is more of a gray matter, than black and white. My (newly) 50 year old mother was smack talking about completing half marathons at her age and doggin' me on my "has-been" status in the land of athletics and so that, in addition to my new lifestyle, my awesome friends and our bucket list item of running in the Disney Princess Half Marathon, we hit the pavement.

Interesting "sport." Looks way cooler than it actually is. I still suck at breathing through my nose, as we discussed, and can't turn my mind off long enough to enjoy any other scenery than approx a foot in front of me. I mean sometimes I stare at my feet in fear of perhaps tripping- which I've manage to do down an entire flight of stairs and OVER a hurdle in my lifetime, so my horrors are warranted. But I cannot even begin to explain the feeling of crossing a (legit) finish line.

Me and the "crew" began training and exercising in the beginning of March, in lieu of a St. Patrick's Day themed 5K in East Grand Rapids on the 19th. Everything went well. The timing with the freak sunshine and slight warmth was perfect for beginning the treks outdoors and giving the pavement a shot. We geared up, decked out in green and pinned on our first-ever "bibs." The race went well for the first time. We all finished, even despite the "gentle" hills that the course map described. (gimme a break, gentle.)

On a quite important side note- the feeling you get when you cross a finish line is irreplaceable. I swear to God I hope that wasn't beginners luck or just because I actually "finished," but it was cool. The picture than Brian was able to snap though, not yet (and hopefully ever) released to the social media world was beyond amusing to everyone but me. It looks like I was being chased by a Colombian drug cartel with several members chanting my name while holding knives and large automatic weapons. I also may look like I ran 31 miles versus the actual 3.1, semantics.

The Beat Goes On.

So it's April, still fairly crappy outside until the last few days it seems. The running has dwindle as well. The treadmill is AWFUL- especially the one "provided" by our apartment complex, which has randomly shut off on Amanda before in mid run. Hilarious. But we did do something last week that has once again sparked my curiosity, ignited my motivation and pushed on.

We went to a spinning class.

Spinning was instantly painful in ALL of the wrong areas. Not two minutes into peddling Amanda and I exchanged a "we're screwed" glance. Once you start you're not allowed to stop until the class is over. You walk in, get your heart monitor wet, and strap that puppy up under your breasts, and sports bars, as the flamboyant male instructor pointed out. The shades go down and the lights get shut off. The disco lights, strobes and house music start playing. It's pretty much like clubbing on a stationary bike. Think about it. The paper attached to your bike instructs where your heart rate should be for the remainder of the class, and the RPMs glare at you, egging you on as well. For 25yr old age group our instructor said to be in the 80-85% heart rate zone to burn fat, which granted my rookie status, my sexy physique, my screaming butt/crotch pain and my nerves, I was pretty sure I was more borderline heart attack range, than having to worry about not exerting enough.

After the pop-singing instructor and some of his favorite "jumps," which consists of intervals of standing up with intense resistance, then sitting down quickly and repeating, the hour actually went by fairly quickly. It was a weird sense of accomplishment when the bike read I had burned 982 calories in a mere 60 minutes. It didn't feel like I earned that one at all- especially after photo finish shot in the archives that probably didn't burn half of that. But alas, we did it, another notch in the excercise belt for 2011.

Onward and upward...

May 14th marks D-Day for the first 10K for us. Should be a riot, I think? I'm not sure if I got in over my head yet, but the goal of finishing still remains, competitive or not. My mom and aunt should be coming to town to walk/jog it as well, so as long as I finish before them I'll be content. (Kidding- kinda.) The 5/3 run is rumored to be a fun one, complete with a celebratory tent at the end of the route for everyone to enjoy each other, refreshments, snacks and a sense of accomplishment. 


Here's to hopefully another GREAT finish line snapshot...