Frugal Fatigue

Being tired probably cost us a couple thousand dollars on this move. For the two weeks leading up to Moving Day, and a week afterward, we were the Takeout Kings. Too tired and overwhelmed to shop, chop and cook, we just rolled our cars up to some clown-house speaker box or called over to the local Asian food takeaway… We don’t eat out much, and our old neighborhood was bordering on being a food desert, so our choices felt limited and inferior.

And after a while, so did we.

The more junk we ate, the more sluggish we felt, but we were doing this move ourselves, and so we had to keep going no matter what. I, for one, have never felt so sleepy in my life: it was like driving a U-Haul through the enchanted poppy field on the way to Oz.

All that fatigue led to many rousing choruses of “Just throw it out! We’ll get a new one when we get there!” But what we didn’t consider was that, when we got here, exhaustion changed our tune to “That one seems good enough. If it’s not right, we’ll return it,” and you can guess the third stanza of that tune… For a couple of people that literally count every nickel (and who won’t be seeing any real income for several weeks yet), we went a little crazy.

We’re dealing with the last bit of unpacking and one heck of a spending hangover, here. But we’re back on the frugal, healthy bandwagon, and looking forward to finding our Austin groove.

When Life Gives you Lemon-Face.

What stereotypes do you have when you think of Californians? What images come immediately to mind?

Perhaps you think of people that say “Dude” a lot, folks that eat organic food and put avocado on everything, or drivers that see stop signs mostly as suggestions. Do you imagine Californians to wear jackets only as fashion statements, vote Democrat, and talk to children as though they were already fully formed human beings?

Ok, then you’ve got a pretty accurate picture of us, as well as most of our friends and family. And if these descriptions don’t apply to you, then a lot of it might sound humorous, if not downright distasteful.

Now think about Texas.

Different, right?

We spent a lot of time sorting out where in these United States of America would be the best place for us to live. We took into account weather, culture, economy, demographics, geography, crime statistics, opportunities for career and education, and of course, the availability of organic food. We researched property values. We talked about how it might feel to move so far away from family and friends, and what cultural shifts we might end up making. A lot of time and effort went into this decision, and we believe it to be a good one (Still, though, we do have a backup plan, in case we’re wrong).

But occasionally the response we get from people with whom we share our choice is a face that looks like we popped a lemon wedge into their mouths when they weren’t looking: “You know that’s in Texas, don’t you?!” they sputter, “That is a Red State!”

Or they remind us that it’s so very very hot, or that it’s over a thousand miles away from our current home, or that the pollen count in Austin is off the charts. My favorite was the one who turned her nose up and the corners of her mouth downward; “My ex lives in Austin,” she sneered. The whole state of Texas, it seems, is therefore contaminated. Dude must have really done a number on her (Hilariously enough, one of our exes just moved there, too. Won’t it be jolly to bump into each other and say “Hello” over the organic avocados?).

As for the rest of their objections, well… We know all that stuff. We actually have a few friends that are Republicans, and most of them are all right (which is why we’re, you know… friends). And we have cars with air conditioning, and access to maps, and doctors who confirm that while we are allergic to grass, and sensitive to dust, and that one of us could die if shellfish is on the menu, neither of us is allergic to pollen. Also, it must be said, we’re excited to move from the highest-taxed State in the Union to one that has No. State. Income Tax (“But they have high property taxes!” Yes, yes, we know that, too).

We get that our people don’t want us to leave. We’re going to miss them, too. We’re also going to miss living near(ish) to the beach, and perfect weather, and having our favorite theme park an hour’s drive away. But we were hoping for a little more excitement and a little less… Sour Face. And certainly, as each person registers his or her response, they have no way of knowing that it’s our dozenth time sitting through some version of “Texas sucks, and you’re going to hate living there.” Which might be true, but on the day we move to Austin, we’ll be just two of over a hundred humans that day who move there. Unemployment is among the lowest in the nation, and rental occupancy among the highest. If we’re making a horrible mistake, at least it’s a popular one.

Maybe– hopefully– the people who love us will come to accept and support this move. Maybe they’ll even find their way clear to getting on an airplane sometime and seeing what this place we’ve chosen is all about, when you get past the stereotypes and into the reality of it. The way they did when they moved to Hollywood, and discovered that not everyone here has perfect teeth or drives a convertible (Although most of us do, so that’s probably a bad example. You get the point though, right?). And, in all fairness, people do seem to enjoy SXSW. As a matter of fact, they’ve all pledged to absolutely, positively visit us for a week next March.

In the meantime, we’ve got plenty of raw, organic agave to go with those lemons…

(Los) Vegas are Leaving

A little over two years ago, after a ten-month courtship, we stood in front of about twenty-nine people in Twentynine Palms, CA, at 2:29pm on February 29, and got married.

In our wedding vows, we promised to come together and create a new home, one that would be a place of peace and joy. I don’t know how many couples include homemaking in their vows, but I think we had each found ourselves in so many tough spots in our lives before we found each other that it was important to us to have a soft place to land in this marriage, and not just figuratively. We’re gentle, sensitive people, and we need sanctuary from a world that’s getting harsher and more indifferent by the day, it seems. We also long for a space big enough to not only keep us safe, but also to welcome in loved ones…and strangers who may become beloved, as many of our friends already have.

We found a tiny little apartment in a not-so-great neighborhood for much less than the going rate, and we got down to work: there were debts to pay, bodies to mend, losses to grieve. Most importantly, there were dreams to be dreamt.

Over hot stoves, on long car rides, in the relative safety of our bed at night, we began to create the vision for the life we wanted. We spoke of a small house with a big garden, and (hopefully) a child or two. In our minds’ eyes, we sketched out the kitchen, decorated the family room, and chose the type of insulation we wanted. And all the while, we counted our pennies and saved as much as we could.

The pennies added up, but not quickly, and the harder we worked, the farther away our dream house began to feel. We watched real estate prices rising in our city, and calculated how many more years it would take for us to afford a home… The younger of us turns forty this year, and we began to awaken to the reality that, if we don’t want our starter home to be a retirement home, we needed to consider leaving Los Angeles.

Our search for a New City began with the one we visit the most, in the Great Pacific Northwest. We have siblings there, and a niece (and now a new nephew!). Could we forgo our dream of a long growing season to be closer to loved ones? Almost certainly. Would the one of us that’s prone to depression find a way to thrive in a city that sees two hundred and fifty rainy or cloudy days annually? Probably. Could the spouse that identifies as “Hispanic” acclimate to going days at a time without speaking Spanish to passersby on the street, or folks at the grocery store? Um… maybe?

As we considered that city, and the next, and the one after that, we came to recognize, and be able to define, what elements our New City would require in order for us to manifest our full potential as individuals, and as the family we were becoming. We began looking for a place that would offer ample opportunity for growth in each of our careers. A place at least as sunny (if not as arid) as our beloved City of Angels. A city where each one of us, brown and white, could see ourselves reflected in the faces of our neighbors, and hear the music of our native languages in their voices. We wanted big-city happenings, and a small-town feel. A place where our aspirations could rise as our roots deepened. As our list of wishes grew longer, our list of cities grew shorter. Until finally, one city remained: Austin, Texas. And we’re not only asking what our city can do for us: The city has issued a plea for years, on bumper stickers and tee shirts, to “Keep Austin weird!” We figure we could help with that. We’re givers, that way.

We set a timeline for early 2016, and re-dedicated ourselves to saving up for the move, but as luck would have it, we lost a job rather unexpectedly, and for confounding reasons. It seemed unfair, but it also seemed like as good a time as any to go. After all, if we were going to conduct a job search, why not do it in our New City? Moving Day just advanced by a couple of years, and is now set for June 2014. Which is like, almost now.

We don’t feel ready, but perhaps that’s the point of a Big Adventure, isn’t it? At some point, you just have to start, and trust that, if you’re on the right path, what you need will be provided.

At least, that’s the plan…