Mama, If That's Moving Up, Then I'm Moving Out

Well, as the vague and pretentious URL of this blog suggests, you've officially entered into Danielle territory! Welcome to my attempt to document my college days while also forcing myself to write something a little more coherent than weird poetry. For several years I wrote on a blog that was strictly for my extended family's eyes only (I was in middle school for most of it, so as you can imagine, you didn't miss much), but I wanted to take a crack at blogging publicly too. Good practice for a writer with lots of opinons and all. 

So I suppose my collegiate story begins here: in a car, stuffed with all the things I was allowed to bring with me (partly dictated by my university...the other part, my mom), bits and pieces from the past 18 years, as well as some new stuff bought for my dorm. I'll tell you though, there's nothing stranger than having to tear apart the bedroom you've spent half your life putting together and decorating. Pulling frames off the wall and ripping books off my shelf felt ridiculously invasive. I'm a very sentimental person, and watching my room slowly empty out felt a little like I was erasing myself from my own home. There I go again with the weird poetry. 

Anyway, now I'm driving a third of that bedroom to NYC. Which is crazy. Three years ago I spent part of the summer in the city for a writing program, and while those 2 weeks were pretty amazing, I distinctly remember thinking to myself, "How can people LIVE here?" Full of excitement and life, yes, but also so BIG and LOUD and SMELLY and CROWDED...and here I am, about to embark on the most independent journey of my life so far, to that very same big, smelly city. 

Truth be told, living in New York City terrifies me. I'm used to wild, crazy adventure, but usually experienced second-hand through other people's photographs and stories. Even though I'm scared out of my mind, I'm sick of wishing I was braver. I'm sick of reading about a life I wish was mine, sick of the mediocrity that accompanies the safe confines of my comfort zone...I'm sick of waiting around wondering when I'm going to  have the wild, crazy story to tell. I'm scared, but that's how I know I'm making the right decision. 

So, I'm moving out. I'm going to a city with over 8 million people. I'm going to learn in that city. I'm shredding my aforementioned comfort zone into a zillion pieces. And I feel good about it. Well, as good as you can feel with Avril Lavigne blasting from the radio while listening to your brother and dad make fun of the passing truck drivers, with a box of Ritz crackers jabbing into your leg (still pretty good, actually).

I'm ready for this next step. I think. If not, well, you all will be able to read about my slow, downward spiral, and at least it'll be funny for one of us. 

Talk to y'all on the flip side. 

-Danielle