About two months ago I sold all of my belongings and bought a one way ticket to the Techno capital of the world, Berlin. You would be surprised (or maybe you wouldn’t be) the amount of times I’ve heard the following questions:
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I recently drove from Tucson to New Orleans by myself. Now don’t get me wrong—this wasn’t something I just decided to do on a whim. In fact, I had been actively planning my solo venture for the entire month prior (and had been dreaming of it even longer.) I tried to route my journey strategically so that I wouldn’t be on the road more than 8 hours at a time (mostly because I didn’t want to be driving in strange places after dark.) That’s how I ended up in Roswell.
Here I had spent the better part of a decade collecting treasures from thrift stores, craigslist, and yard sales and the only thing I had to show for it was a house full of thingamabobs and whatchamacallits. The true essence of collecting has always felt safe, secure, and familiar to me. That is until recently.
When I moved from LA to Tucson, I spent $600 on a U-Haul that I just filled with crappy thrift store furniture and Target linens. Looking back, it probably would have made more sense to sell what little I had and use it to start over. But, no. That felt too scary, too real. I did it again when I moved from LA to Phoenix. That time, my stuff was a little bit nicer but not nice enough to justify spending almost a grand to haul it 400 miles.