A LONG OVERDUE APARTMENT TOUR & A STORY ON PATIENCE


Hi friends,

Let’s talk about the importance of PATIENCE. It is HARD. Like wow so damn hard. To be honest, I am being stretched beyond limits that I thought were pretty stretched to the max. And let me tell you, I have been a nanny for several families for years, and I truly thought I have flexed my patience muscles with all of my dear nanny children pretty strong. But here I am in paradise land, also known as New Zealand, being tested beyond limits that I could have never predicted.

I'm assuming any readers at this time are all friends and family (love you guys), so most of you know that my fresh off-the-press husband and I just moved to New Zealand on a work/holiday visa. We are being a couple of ragamuffins living in a van while drinking hipster coffee out of our aeropress. And boy oh boy, it has been great so far! From a gal who was juggling quitttttte a bit living in San Diego and, at a time, working 4 jobs, I feel so free. Freeeee as a bird. I've gotten the chance to do some things that I haven’t gotten to do in a long time. Writing this post being one. However, this freedom is also making me feel so trapped. I feel stagnant AF. I truly do not know how to chill and just sit still.

Now do not get me wrong, my husband and I are feeling so blessed to be able to experience and live this life we live. Life does not suck in any shape or form. I mean what a dream to be newly weds, roaming the country of New Zealand as a team, no kids yet, no huge financial tie downs, and being care free with no jobs (well, I do have a small remote job doing blog posts for my dear friend and inspiring girl boss, Solstice Interiors, and new remote work on the way for another interior queen, South Harlow Interiors – God bless you two). I meannn I truly am pinching myself. How is this real life? However, on the flip side, I am struggling. I am struggling with sitting still. I am struggling with not having a home base. I am struggling with not being able to work out as much as I would like because we are so on the road, and I fully look like a psycho at the park doing my former barre instructor moves. I am struggling with not having our own real kitchen and eating red lentil pasta and quinoa bowls over and over and over.  I am struggling with having to use communal and public restrooms to shower, brush my teeth, wash my face, etc. I am struggling with trying to dress chic while looking borderline homeless. Embarrassingly but not surprisingly, I think what I am struggling with the most is not being able to have a place to decorate and be surrounded by all my homey d├ęcor things. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!

Okay okay, I know. Cue the eye rolls. Such first world/white girl/diva problems. My 20-year-old self would be giving me the middle finger hearing this right now. WHO AM I? But you guys, I went from juggling 4 jobs to like almost none. Vacationing and traveling has been a hell of a lot of fun, but hot damnnn after 2 months (64 days to be precise but who’s counting), I'm ready to feel productive again. I am ready to start cooking certain recipes again. I am ready to get my grind on working out more than little 20-minute tid bits at a park without a confused child with an adorable accent staring. I am ready to be able to wear something besides the same 2 pair of leggings and 3 smelly t-shirts. I’m ready to be able to keep my laptop and phone simultaneously charged without having to nearly fist fight other van lifers for an outlet. How’s a girl supposed to work on the go while maintaining strong social content out here? I am ready to have my own little place of serenity to practice my daily grounding routines so that I’m not a stage 5 lunatic. I am ready to be able to eat out of my ceramic speckled bowl with my perfectly shaped Scandinavian coffee mug again, lighting incense, listening to a podcast, checking my morning emails of a to do list. I am ready for PRIVACY. (Side story/this might be TMI, but I was brushing my teeth last night with a freshly washed face getting clean as a whistle before bed inside of the shared bathroom at our local holiday park. While doing so, I had to listen to a stranger go poop. HOW DARE SHE POOP WHILE I BRUSHED MY TEETH?! I went back to our penthouse suite – aka our year 2000 Mitsubishi minivan -  and cried my eyes out to my husband in a state of exhausted delirium. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever say the sentence while crying in tears, “I just want to brush my teeth without listening to a stranger go poop,” during this lifetime, but here we are.) I am realllly missing our tackily clad, ghetto linoleum, and severely out dated kitchen and bathroom in our old Cardiff apartment right about now.

But again, life does not suck. My husband has had to remind me over and over that this is only temporary, yet I feel like this stage of being “temporary” has lasted for the past 5 or more years. Cue the word PATIENCE. I have got to practice it, flex it, work it, sit on it, marinade in it. Ohhh sweet baby Jesus am I realllllly trying to embrace this feeling of being patient and surrendering to uncertainty. *Literally can feel my eye twitching as I type this, but I AM FINE. EVERYTHING IS FINE AND ZEN.* But things are looking up! My husband and I had our first job interview, and it could perhaps be quite a relief for this couple of Californians who struggle with severe ants-in-the-pants syndrome. Fingers crossed! Patience is key.

So for now, I may be a 30-year-old living in a tiny home on wheels, but you can check out a little tour of our old apartment in Cardiff, CA photographed by our lovely friend Kim Le of Three Moons Away. We lived in this little charmer for 4 years, and it was SO good to us. It was in the most heavenly spot, with the most epic ocean view, and right down the road from my husband’s first childhood home and favorite surf spot. My husband first moved in with me here. We got engaged while living here. We got married while living here. We scored some major dream jobs here. We experienced some major life shifts here. It represents a period of growth to say the least. I wasn’t lying about the tacky linoleum and outdated elements either. As much as I would have loved for this little tour to be perfectly designed and decorated, that’s not the reality. Most of the pieces in the photos have sold as an effort to scrape together every last penny before moving to NZ, or the keepers are in my parents’ storage unit up in Central California. Most of the furniture pieces are hand-me-downs, DIY projects, cheap ass Ikea makeovers, or just flat out not my taste any more. Ahhh but that’s part of the quirky goodness and the glory of our twenties and being a renter, right? As much as I miss this little Californian gem, that ship has sailed, and a new current of life has swept us away. Just trying to ride these waves of transition like a true soul surfer.

So long story short and one basic white girl saga later, may we all remind ourselves of the importance of patience, the importance of being present, the importance of finding a moment to retreat and go within ourselves no matter where we are. Life truly is beautiful and blessed no matter how big of a hot mess and a disaster we may feel.

Cheers!

 
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