Moving

Boxes are piled high to the ceiling and the dust bunnies that have hidden beneath the bed for the past year, are coming out into the open, only to alight on my skin, making me break out in rashes, hives and unpleasent bouts of sneezing.

For the past few days I've been in a rather reflective mood, as I come to terms with the unknown that is Milwaukee/Marquette University and the realization that I won't be seeing any of my Pittsburgh or Erie friends for quite some time. I wish I could sit back and leave without feeling the slightest hint of remorse or sadness, but I can't. A few years ago I would have relegated my nostalgic and sorrowful tendencies to the realm of "being scared of the unknown"; however, today, I realize it's the fear of being seperated from my established community that has me most at odds with myself.

I received a phone call today from my new 'boss' in Milwaukee and was informed that I must be in the apartment building at exactly 10:00am on Tuesday, August 16th, for the installation of internet into apartment number 11. I informed the woman on the other line that I was still in Pennsylvania and that Tuesday will only be my second day in the apartment, to which she responsded, "Yeah, the manager told me...(silence)...well, I'll expect to see you there on Tuesday for your first job." Looks like work will start RIGHT away.

I spent one of my last nights in Erie riding mountain bikes with my friend Paul. It was quite the fitting way to close my year, as all the way back in September I had met Paul while riding my pervious bike (which was stolen in November) on the trails of Asbury Woods Park. I was quite nervous to pick up mountian biking again, as I myself am more partial to road riding, yet I found the three hours in the woods to be completely enjoyable, challenging and quite dangerous. I was not very confident in regards to my own handling of the bike as I careened down into ravines, attempting to miss the protruding rocks and roots that were in my way, but I decided to hit each hill like it was my last, and I ignored my initial tendancy to be timid and fearful of the obstacle directly in front of me. In a very romantic and cliched way, I viewed my final mountian bike trip like my next life in Milwaukee: I know I'm not confident in my skills, nor am I really ready to proceed head-long into the precipice that is graduate school, but I'm going to do it anyway, and I'm going to hold on tight for the ride. I know that I'll bleed, get scraped up and fall into the mud along the way; however, I know I'll survive the trip to ride home, confident, strong and hungry. Hell, maybe I'll even eat the cream-filled donut I indulged in yesterday upon arriving back from my mountian bike excursion? Who knows.