Just realized I have *NOT* officially shared the fun news that my husband got a post-MBA job, so I’m in the process of packing our lovely little St. Louis apartment and we’ll be moving into one in the Navy Yard area of D.C. at the end of this week.
I’ve already made a list of breweries/bars/restaurants to check out, as well as touristy things that we’ve never done, so it will be as fun and new an adventure as when we moved here. With the bonus of having a bunch of beloved friends already there.
The hubs is in D.C. already, working hard and loving life. I finished work here last week, which was super bittersweet and I’ve been tearing up off and on since. I’ve loved the two years we’ve spent in St. Louis more than words can say. The Gateway to the Midwest will always have a very special place in my heart–a heart that is 100% Midwestern, no matter where we go.
I’m probably annoying my neighbors. I’ve discovered after switching through what felt like every playlist Spotify offers, I keep landing on their Pop Punk Powerhouse playlist for cleaning/cooking/packing. All the songs are nostalgic and catchy and angsty, and I love adding my voice—loudly and off-key. I can’t help screaming along with “Until the Day I Die” or belting out “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” in a way that’s becoming increasingly less-ironic with each play.
Ok, fine, it was never ironic. I loved the All-American Rejects and Simple Plan and Green Day way back in middle school, and I loved them in college, and I love them now. And since I’m anxious about moving, and sad about leaving St. Louis, and missing my husband, I think I’m allowed to be a little emo and find comfort in the whiny pop-punk classics of my youth. At least my neighbors have been alerted to the fact that “The Kids Aren’t Alright” in this apartment.
In the words of Blink-182: Well, I guess this is growing up…
Well, it’s been almost two weeks since we left Virginia for Missouri, and I’d say we’re finally settling in. It was a rough first week, with a few issues in our apartment not getting taken care of and our subconscious homesickness manifesting in my husband’s constant complaining and my own extremely short temper. Once we finally reasoned out that we were just adjusting in our own — cranky — ways, it made it easier to understand each other.
Now, we’ve crammed a lot of exploring into the past week. My husband starts school on Tuesday, so our adventures together will be limited after that. We’ve found the essential box stores like Target and Bed, Bath, & Beyond, and tried a handful of coffee shops in different neighborhoods.
We traveled up to Saint Charles, where Lewis and Clark are especially famous, and we’ve been to our first Cardinals baseball game. We’ve walked through part of Forest Park and wandered down private streets lined with gorgeous homes from the 1940s. We passed by the Soulard Farmers Market and took a free tour of the Anheuser-Busch Brewery. Today, it’s raining, so instead of locating one of the local “beaches” around us, we’ll visit one of the many museums.
I’ve also done laundry in a laundromat-style laundry room, for the first time ever. Other than some initial guesswork as to the settings for each load, it went pretty well (read: no clothes destroyed)!
I already really like this area. The food is amazing — we’ve yet to have a less-than-great meal — and the people are so friendly (if sometimes a little too chatty). I’m convinced my husband is afraid that if he admits to liking Saint Louis, I’ll never let him move back to DC when school is done. He has gone so far as to say if STL was on the east coast, he’d love it, which I guess is the highest praise I can hope for.
Today my husband and I leave for Missouri (thank goodness for the option to schedule future posts!). As of writing this, I have two full days left in Virginia. Other than the first five or six years of my life, Virginia has always been home. I went to school here. I made lasting friendships with some beautiful, garbage people. I fell in love and found my forever person here. Despite being born in Maryland, Virginia will always be the best part of the D.C. metro area, and Maryland will always suck simply because it isn’t Virginia.
My excitement for the adventure my husband and I are about to embark on has far outweighed any nerves or sadness up until now. Maybe I was tucking all the fear and grief and anxiety into a box as easily as I packed our apartment. Cocooned in bubblewrap and triple-taped so it can’t burst free until I’m ready to unpack it all. Maybe it didn’t feel real, until I found myself surrounded by boxes and drinking water from a solo cup. Regardless, I’ve been able to avoid the harder feelings, but now that the move is here, so are they.
Don’t get me wrong; I am excited. A move like this, to a place that feels random, seems so right. It’s healthy. Adulting. From here, we could go anywhere. And now is the best time, before we are entrenched in careers and surrounded by babies.
But I keep thinking about my college graduation. In a way, this is similar. A huge life change, full of unknowns and fears that friendships will look different when we no longer all live within 5 minutes of each other. At a party just before graduation, one friend — who I met early on freshman year — took my hand and said “we’ve been friends for FOUR YEARS! That’s so long! I’ve known you longer than most of the people here!” It seemed so epic, and at that time in my life, it was. When I said goodbye to that same friend earlier this week, I felt that same teary nostalgia. I’ve known you longer than most of our friends.
It’s hard saying goodbye to that — in some ways, harder even than leaving my family. I know my mom will drop everything to talk to me whenever I call her, because she’s my mom and that’s what moms do. The dynamics of my family relationships won’t change so drastically. Friends have lives that take precedence. They’ll have babies and buy houses and get married, and my part in their immediate lives will diminish. It won’t be as simple as sending out a group text asking who’s around to hang out this weekend. We’ll have to plan time and take off work and buy plane tickets. Still, I know they’ll be there when I need them, just like I’ll be there for them.
I’ll also miss Virginia. I know on the trips I’ve taken to Missouri, I’ve thought it looks fairly similar, but I’ll miss walking along the Potomac River in Old Town Alexandria, or watching the planes take off and land from Gravelly Point, or easy “hikes” along Skyline Drive or Great Falls Park. It’s been nice to go back to JMU for Rocktown Beer and Music Festivals or for Homecoming or just to reminisce. Even though we rarely took advantage, having D.C. so close has always been a tantalizing option for food or sports or fun.
So even though I’m truly looking forward to the adventure of discovering a new place — even though I have dozens of things to do already listed — it’s hard leaving this beautiful state that’s been my home in every sense of the word for nearly my entire life.
My husband and I are moving to Saint Louis, MO next month. (I’ve mentioned it in past posts, but here’s the post specifically about it.) He’ll be pursuing his MBA through Olin Business School at Washington University, and I’ll be there for moral support. Also for financial support, and to make sure he eats well, and because I’d miss him for two years.
When he interviewed, he fell in love with the campus.
Okay, maybe that was me. He did say he really wanted to go here and it was his number one choice. I’m the one who wanted to say my husband goes to what is basically American Hogwarts.
We were in Saint Louis for the day and didn’t experience much beyond the Delmar Loop, Campus, and a fraction of Forest Park.
The second time we visited, we were already apartment hunting. We wandered around the Central West End and into Clayton, but again, we only had one full day to explore. Sight-seeing and touristy-stuff would have to wait.
We chose a lovely apartment overlooking Forest Park in Central West End. Then we flew back home to D.C. to start preparations to move.
And by that I mean I made an insane amount of lists while my husband pretended nothing was happening. Now that we’re officially less than a month away from the move, he’s had to acknowledge that our lives are headed for a big change.
We’re looking forward to the adventure. Our families are on the coasts, so it will be nice to be a half-country closer to his sister, but also be sad to have to fly 2 hours to our parents, rather than the fairly easy drives we have now. We’ve met or spoken with plenty of people who have lived in Saint Louis or know someone who lived or is living there currently, but we’re going in virtually friendless ourselves. Through the business school, among other groups and activities and my work, we’ll both have lots of opportunities to get to know people, so we aren’t too worried about loneliness. Still, we’ll miss the friends who have made our lives great for so many years.
Saint Louis isn’t a place either of us would have chosen. My husband would have happily moved to Charleston, SC. I’d love to live in Long Beach, CA. There are probably a dozen other cities we’d choose before even thinking of Saint Louis. And yet, here we go.
That’s part of what makes it magical. We’ve barely spent a full weekend there. Neither of us is already in love with the city. We don’t have any preconceived notions of what makes it great, so we can’t be let down by the difference between living and vacationing, which is a very real possibility in any of the places we’d have picked given the choice.
We have at least two years to experience Saint Louis. We’ll learn its secrets and enjoy making it ours.