a perfect life

For the first eight years of my life I lived in the same house; in the ensuing eight, my family moved four times. Although I managed to finish my high school years without packing another box, I picked up the habit once again when I started college and moved every year--including a semester living in Valencia, Spain. Upon graduation I took off to Europe for six months and then returned to the states to my high school abode under the supervision of my parents as I "saved" money for my grand move to New York City. A month shy of the anniversary of my college graduation I finally landed in Manhattan, where I slept on a friend's sofa on the Upper East Side until I found a place of my own.

The story continues over the next six years as I moved from the East Village to NoLita to SoHo to the West Village to Hell's Kitchen to Hell's Kitchen (#2). Needless to say, the moving bug is in me and a part of me, and I recently found a kindred spirit in Meghan Daum's Life Would be Perfect if I Lived in that House. Certain thoughts and emotions she writes throughout the book feel as if they could have been lifted from my own life, and I find it no coincidence that I stumbled upon this book as I am at a crossroads (i.e.: moving point) once again.

My husband and I have lived in our home (the first house either one of us ever owned) in Charlotte, North Carolina for five years. How we ended up in Charlotte from New York is further testament to my innate desire to move, and for the past two years I've actually toyed with the idea of moving back to the city. However, a recent visit to New York convinced me that now--with one child and another arriving in July--is the time to stay put. Yet we've outgrown our 900 square-foot, two-bedroom home and are ready to (yes!) move.

I'm dedicating this blog to our move: the ins and outs and ups and downs of selling your first home and (eventually) purchasing another. I don't know where we'll end up:  in my "dream" of a modern box; in a mid-century marvel; in a cookie-cutter cottage on a cul-de-sac (never!)? Wherever and whatever it is, I plan to decorate with verve and hope to inspire like-minded individuals who want to make their house their own. At the end of the day it isn't about money or what your friends or neighbors have--any shack can be a dream home, and a true dream home should showcase some sass.

If there's one thing I've learned from Daum's book, it's that happiness doesn't come from a zip code or a number on a mailbox or even the walls and floorboards that hold the structure together. I understand now that you never stop learning, especially about yourself, and I can't wait to see where this journey takes me.