Our vagabond life: the end

Well. It’s the beginning of a new chapter in our lives. I am officially a Floridian and I cannot call myself a travel nurse anymore.

Because we bought a house. We are homeowners. In Tampa.


The Husband and me in front of our new home.

So no more driving  up and down the East Coast. I have a Florida permanent address and a driver’s license. The Patticar license plates are long gone.

But I still have my 585 phone number. And I will have it until I die. Or until cellphones are so advanced that they don’t even need a number.

It’s a bittersweet moment for a NY-obsessed commitment-phobic such as myself. I literally get short of breath and my chest gets tight when I think about the word forever. (And after learning what buying a house is about, trust me, this one is forever. I’m never doing it again.)

I also have always held on to the thought that maybe the Husband would want to move back to NYC. Trade in the car, be close to most of my dearest friends. An Amtrak ride away from my family. Somalian food at 3 am. Frozen hot chocolate. Celebrities and Century 21 shopping (not the realtor, but one of the greatest stores on earth).

I wistfully think of all the time spent on Chippewa in Downtown Buffalo. Although I recently went down Chippewa sober in the middle of the night and let me tell you, I nearly got down on my knees and prayed that I did not look like the girls I saw. {shudder}

gi me and isaac

Gillian and me with the Husband on our first “date.” Yes I took a chaperone along.

My memories of the Alexander Beer tent always seem to fabulous in my mind. But I have a feeling I would be let down if I went now.


All the girls at the beer tent

And going boating. Oh, boating. For some reason, NY reminds me of boating more than Tampa. And I know it’s because of Conesus Lake and Silver Lake.


Gillian and me after a long day of boating at Conesus Lake.

And concerts at Darien Lake, preceded by drinking on the hill. Which I hear you can no longer do, and that’s a shame for all the underage 21 year olds that are missing out on a really amazing time.


Gillian, Carolyn, me and Jenny Wall at Toby Keith.

And it was so nice working with nurses that I went to nursing school with. You always knew someone nearby would have your back. No matter what. Well, except maybe if you killed someone.


And riding the subway in NYC. With some amazing people. All the Tagalog I learned there! Oh, I would do anything to be able to call someone “Abusado” for not speaking English around me!

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And the random bars that end up pumping you full of free whiskey and covering you in feathers.


And front porch parties. Since I was probably 14 years old, I have been having front porch parties. It started with staying up all night at my dad’s house just so we could mess with the newspaper lady in the morning. And 15 years later, we all still love front porch parties just as much! Or maybe even more, since we can drink at them now.


Front porch party, Attica NY. I’ve known these girls for nearly a lifetime.

And now we have a house. Don’t get me wrong, we will still be traveling. A lot. Just this summer alone we are seeing nearly all of Canada by train! And just next month is New Orleans and Miami. But we will never again pack the car full of our meager possessions and head north. Or south. We are home. To stay.

And I’m happy. It’s always fun, exciting, and scary to start a new phase of your life. But as long as you celebrate life wholeheartedly (and in good taste) then life must be destined to be fantastic.



And our house is adorable, and old, and charming, and so exciting. All of a sudden, I truly understand how people become addicted to Pinterest. And I’ve trading in shopping for Valentino’s for Valspar. I don’t balk at the thought of stepping inside the gray, unfamiliar aisles of Home Depot.

I’m even excited to cook in my kitchen.


Maybe I can take some lessons..

And I can’t wait to turn this adorable room in to my closet!


My future closet!

And I’m excited for all the fights we are going to have and the feeling of accomplishment when we look at something we did ourselves. And I’m so thankful I can walk to get dinner or drinks or groceries and everything else I could possibly need.

And as long as all the fabulous New Yorkers promise to come visit, it won’t be so bad. I just hope they all know they have to bring me NY food when they come!

And I’m glad to be growing old with the Husband in this home.

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