Shit's about to get real, y'all.

I've always wanted to live somewhere cold. I grew up in Texas and Louisiana so soul-crushing heat has always been a part of my life. Once I grew up a little and had a nice job and income of my own, I started thinking about my first grown-up vacation. All I wanted was as far north as I could get. Other people want beaches and umbrella drinks, I wanted snow and hoodie sweatshirts. My incredibly logical brain decided on Maine, because it is coastal (another requirement), full of lobsters, and if Stephen King has taught us anything, it's where the monsters are. So, in 2006 I tricked this cute boy into going with me and made my first ever trip to Maine, at the bright-eyed and innocent age of 30.

It all began there, the boy and I got married, had a couple of boy children, and always talked of someday living in Maine. We would dream about half a year in Texas (in the winter) and half a year in Maine. I would home-school our children and we would be a mobile family, chasing good weather around the country. Ten years have gone by and we've visited Maine as often as we can, but are no closer to living there than we ever have been.

Until this week. I got a phone call in the middle of the afternoon on a regular old Thursday from my husband, Ralph (Raf, Rafy) and he had finally hit the wall. I don't know if it was our visit to Maine this past summer or the weather here just broke his spirit, but he made it clear he wasn't kidding and said, "Let's really do it. Let's make a plan because you're good at that, and let's really shoot to move to Maine at this time next year." This is very unlike him. He longs for cooler weather and a life we can lead outdoors, but he also greatly fears change and is by far more conservative than I am on every front. I'm the dreamer, the spontaneous one, I have fancy plans and pants to match! So, I've started planning.

The plan starts with us clearing out all unnecessary belongings out of our home. We're both a little hoarder-y. We love pop culture and nerdy things and books and tend to hang on to things forever for emotional reasons.  We have a 3,000 square foot house that is cluttery and packed with our stuff. It is all going away. I have 52 weeks to get organized, get our house sold, find temporary housing, like a rental house or an apartment which will be both cheaper and easier to walk away from when September 2017 rolls around, and find us a place to live in Maine.

Our lives are already full of kids activities and sports, extended family things, my online college classes, the usual work and home duties and I'm frequently overwhelmed. I remedy this by sitting on my butt playing iPhone games, playing Dungeons and Dragons with old friends, marathon binge watching House Hunters International, and basically not doing anything about the actual work that needs to be done. Summarily, I'm an incredibly awesome and fun person, but sometimes a bit of a shit housekeeper and wife, so this should be an interesting experiment.

For those who know me in real life: Surprise! We're really moving to Maine! For those of you who don't know me or have found this somehow on the internet: Welcome! I'll try to keep it mostly dick and fart jokes, while constantly mocking myself and everyone around me and throw in some tidbits about this whole life-changing decision every now and then.