Rewind

While this blog will more than likely twist in memories and stories from the last 20–something years of my life, the entire premise behind starting “Raw Bars to Rodeos” actually began several months ago. Therefore, it only makes sense that my very first post, on my very first blog, starts there. Here we goooo…

Towards the end of the summer, the company that I work for (which will remain anonymous for all intents and purposes) announced that they were moving a handful of people to Texas. In case this wasn't clear by my title, pictures, and extremely cheesy "about me" section… I was one of the lucky employees affected by their decision. My immediate reaction was something along the lines of “NOT A CHANCE”. Although, those of you who witnessed this reaction in real time know that it was far less "PG"... but you get the point. While I love country music... and while I've found myself embarrassingly belting out country tunes at more than my fair share of summer concerts... I never quite understood the infatuation that surrounded the southern drawl and the ability to fry anything (and everything). However, I was convinced to take the allotted time and really think about my options before I signed any paperwork. After all, this decision would affect the rest of my life... Welp, big gulps.

As it turns out, I do a very good job of convincing myself to do something one day, and then talking myself out of that same situation the next. I did this for ninety consecutive days. Miserable. There were pros and cons lists like you wouldn’t believe... with items ranging from highly important (my career) to trivial and insignificant (scorpions, heat waves and the potential for a tornado similar to the one in Twister). Here is where I will insert a quick apology to my three lovely roommates, as well as everyone else who put up with my half-jokes and unnecessary tears for three months straight. To be quite honest, I couldn’t have made this decision without all your support. 

In the end, my fearless, adventurous side only slightly outweighed the part of me that wanted to live in Boston with all my best friends for the rest of my life. I guess I realized I needed to grow up. Not a lot, we’re still working on that whole “growing up” part, but enough to take this risk… or push myself off the edge of the cliff as some would say (which is very much what if felt like when signing those papers) and hope that I find some semblance of wings on my way down. That and the offer was just too good to turn down... girl likes to shop. Just kidding. Almost.

The day I signed my name on the dotted line was one of the most stressful, emotional and exhausting days of my entire working career... yes, I am dramatic. One hour before the dreaded "deadline", I held my breath (literally), scribbled my name and told my boss that I think I've lost my mind. I then grabbed an over-packed bag, hailed a taxi and boarded a plane to Barcelona to visit my beautiful sister abroad. In my mind, the timing was impeccable... two weeks traveling down the coast of Spain and attempting broken Spanish/Catalan with my perfectly wild family seemed like the best combination to get my mind off the last three months. It was just that. Unfortunately, this trip did little to ease reality upon my return... 

From this point out, I plan on documenting my journey in this wonderful, and might I add grammatically incorrect blog... from a life filled with some of the best friends and family a girl could ask for & numerous summer nights spent on the Boston waterfront, to a life halfway across the country. Time to be brave. 

Cheers!