The Moving Edition

It was a peaceful Sunday afternoon in early June of 2008 when my family and I pulled up to Woodlawn Avenue with a little Uhaul. A few hours later, all unloaded into my new apartment, we wandered down Broadway to find dinner and were overtaken by some of that Spa City magic that many a newcomer has found themselves, thrillingly, ensnared in -- every person seemed intriguing, every restaurant smelled fabulous, every storefront looked enticing. (We didn't get close enough to see the price tags, of course.)

My mom and stepdad and sister strolled along, taking it all in. "Cool, look at that painted horse! That's the third one I've seen ..." And, "Oo, a bookstore! A coffee shop! They're selling popcorn on that corner!"

I, nearly 23, still fresh from college though wearily returned to the nest (temporarily) after a whirlwind adventure to the West Coast and Texas, felt as if I'd just hopped a train and landed in Paris ... with a handsome foreigner, a wad of cash and brand new Mercedes. (True story. Another time.) 

Had I really just been hired as a copy editor at the city's newspaper, The Saratogian? It sounded so glamorous. (Note to self: Don't forget to emphasize that it "sounded so" but was not, in fact, glamorous.) Saratoga -- smack dab in the calm between the close of the Skidmore spring semester and the frenzy of the racing season -- was a glimmering pond just waiting for me to dive in and explore.

Off duty, circa 2009. Photo credit: Dad.

Now it is a quiet Wednesday afternoon, the last day in August, and I'm sitting in a moment of stillness. A moment during which, for the first time in about 30 days, my brain is not spiraling in all directions and I have nothing left to do here and no one to see. I have explored Saratoga Springs silly and it has, in return, taught me, protected me, toughened me, treated me greatly. I have said goodbye and I am simply waiting for the moving men to arrive and truck my possessions 171 miles to the south, to my new home in Sleepy Hollow.

That's just the half quarter of it.

Who has this much stuff?! Make my new motto
"minimize, minimize, minimize."

Context: The big news at SRS, for any readers who are not already aware, is that I have been hired by The Journal News (www.lohud.com) as a reporter covering the town of Ramapo in Rockland County, NY. It is a fabulous opportunity -- the result of much hard work and many helping hands -- that I am fortunate to embrace. 

My stint in public relations and marketing served to educate me invaluably the last five months, and it was some fun! -- though it is with relief that I leave that job to, shall we say, the better-qualified professionals, as I prepare to open my reporter's notebook once again. (And, while I'm at it, re-dedicate myself to the Twitterverse. Uggh. No, what am I talking about? I ADore Twitter!)

Anyway, here's to the Spa City and all its wonders! I am grateful and honored to have had the pleasure of discovering, imbibing in, writing about, running with and learning from its characters and its haunts. 

I leave with a full heart and more wisdom, friends and warm memories than I could have imagined possible when I arrived.

Time to hit the road!

This is NOT from some stock photo website, although I am sure
that my mastery of the drive-70 mph-while-taking-a-photo skillz belie this fact.
Pictured is Interstate 88, heading south to the
homefront during a trip last weekend.