Today is my 3 year DCversary. T.H.R.E.E. Y.E.A.R.S.
Is all I can say. I never ever ever ever ever imagined I would still be here. I am not really sure what to focus on writing this post. How three years feels like the blink of an eye? How three years feels like eternity with no end? How these three years have been the most challenging and life changing in my life? The highlights of what has happened to me here? Favorite memories? Why I am still here?
I guess the following ramblings will have to do as I sit here wondering how time possibly got to this point.
Three years ago Alex and I moved into our one bedroom apartment. We lived with a desk as a kitchen table. Mismatched chairs. A bedspread that was too small for our bed. Camp chairs. No TV (but a TV stand). A GIANT desk. Hardly enough money (well I hardly had any money). And an ambition to buy blue plates. Almost a year later we divided the assets, realized we never found blue plates, which was maybe a sign, and went our separate ways. I ventured out to find myself in a city that I never thought I would find anything in.
After that I somehow found a roommate off of craigslist and lived in an apartment that was worthy of a TV show. Battled some roaches (a lot of roaches). Learned how to brine a turkey. Really started to understand the power of friendships, especially the ones that conducted from opposite sides of the country. Learned to fall in love with a lot of things. Started to figure out what wearing big girl pants was all about. And then decided that it was either me or the roaches. The roaches won.
My first attempt at living on my own. Talk about being an adult. I now 100% understand why people say that if you can, living on your own before you get married is one of the most valuable experiences. I have learned a lot about how to live: I now get excited about recycled sponges, laundry detergent that is on sale, dishwashers seem like unicorns, and I have learned to appreciate making a space that you love and can call your very own. But also have started learning about being your own best friend and realizing it is okay to have whatever life you have and to not be self conscious of who you are and what you enjoy.
I also learned how to paint stripes. I am a pro stripe painter. I am constantly shocked when I open my front door and see that I own an apartment full of furniture, books, kitchen things, lines and clothes.
It is moving into year three that I can officially say I am a "DCer". Whatever that means. It feels a bit like a battle scar. A reminder that this was never the life I saw. But above all
it is an accomplishment.
It is a tale I will always tell.
And that is the end of me sentimental sappy post.