Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

It's amazing how fast your life changes when you're least expecting it. No, this isn't one of those sad entries about lost loved ones. This is about happiness and new beginnings and feeling reinvigorated for the first time in a very long time. I'm like Tova Borgnine with her fragrances -- excited and barely containing myself in a borderline-annoying fashion for those around me because there's so much to share!
First, a big move is coming up. I am Nashville bound in just a few more weeks (I think). I'm actually chuckling a little bit at that thought because I never thought I'd be saying, "I can't wait to move to Tennessee!" But guess what? Colorado is so 26 minutes ago and it's time to get this party freakshow circus on the road. I'm more than this little landlocked, dry state can contain. I need some culture that doesn't involve outdoor activity shoes, streets and streets of weed shops (although, whatever a person does on their own time is their business...it's still just weird to see) and the words, "Maybe we can get together at the park...throw the frisbee around." I mean, seriously, people, there are plenty of things to do INSIDE!
Next, I'm being given an extraordinary opportunity to start anew, if I want. And I want. I have the pleasure of being employed by an honestly GOOD and well-run company right now. I've gained tons of good experience, but it is time to move on. I think I make a much better "good little corporate wife" than I do a "good little corporate minion." This creative's wings are just dying to be spread. No regrets, just lessons learned and a fresh life ahead.
Also, some serious distance in my relationship right now (try three states) is just tough. It flat-out sux. I'd like to say that I'm using this time to remember who the old, uber-independent me was, but I'd be lying. In fact, I've been one big ball of stress who's trying to do everything by herself. And, frankly, I don't think my cat is all that interested in my stories anymore. He's like, "Enough, already! I just want a nap, some tuna water and a dirty Belvedere martini!" (My cat is very posh. His name is Frank Sinatra afterall.)
But I think the biggest and most exciting thing on the horizon for me is...my new closet. Ladies (and gentle-'mos), please take your seats because you're going to need them. My new closet...HAS A CLOSET! There. I gave you the best part first because I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it in until the end like a proper storyteller. So, I just gave you the climax of the whole tale. My characters reached their arcs, storylines have hit their peaks and we're on our way down again. But we still have a ways to go because this closet is badass. It used to be the fourth bedroom. The last owner converted it into a closet that has built-ins in the "bedroom" part and an actual closet since it used to be one. Yup. It's my Carrie Bradshaw closet. In fact, it's better than hers (minus several tens of thousands of dollars of Manolos and Cavalli pieces...well, I have ONE Cavalli.) because mine's going to have a chandelier, couch and table. I plan to take tea in there everyday at 3:30 in a big, chennile bathrobe (will somebody please get me one of thoses? It's kind of key to this plan...preferably pink, but I will also accept a cerulean blue.) and my pearls. (It is the South.) Anyway, it's going to be the most. It'll be my own sanctuary and my "man cave." (Boys, you can keep your pool and ping pong tables. Give me a full-length mirror and something that's shiny and I'll entertain myself all afternoon. It's almost more happiness than I could have ever fathomed at 30.
Yes, my needs are simple: just a room that's a closet with exquisite built-ins and a chance to finally re-hang my pink, snakeskin curtains. Uh-uh! Don't you judge until you've seen them. They're very chic, in that glamorously trashy kind of way.

So that's my life. Finally, my wish of almost seven years is being granted: to get out of this completely strange and foreign state where I've never exactly fit in. I've been begging for it ever since I returned for what was supposed to be a six-month stay. While those seven years have brought me good things, it's time to pick up my Stella wedges and move on to the next great thing where I'm going to do great things. I can just feel it.