Flying out to Boston, I had three stuffed suitcases and a hotel room booked for the first 10 days. Why? Because I had no place to live yet, not for a lack of trying. After flying out two weeks prior by myself for the day to meet with a realtor and having that turn into a complete disaster, I was banking on moving to Boston and getting in contact with someone, ANYONE, who would lead me to a housing arrangement. The problem lied in the fact that I was going into this whole moving situation blind as far as exactly how it all works. I did my best with what I knew, but unfortunately that got me nowhere. From the very beginning I had my heart set on living in my own little studio, making it super cute and homey and oh how wonderful it would be. How quickly my eyes were opened to the fact that my visions were slightly unrealistic. After some good conversation and processing a lot of advice, I realized that maybe it was a good thing a studio didn't work out. Why was I moving 3,000 miles away to somewhere completely foreign where I don't know anyone and already excluding myself by living alone? As hesitant as it made me feel, what I needed was to find a roommate to live with that could potentially be the perfect person to help get me acquainted with the city.
Going into the first few days here in Boston with my dad were stressful to say the least. Between trying to figure out if we were going the right way on the one way streets all the time, to making sure I made it to all orientation activities, adding in trying to find someone to live with when I had no contacts made things a bit overwhelming. On the positive, going through it with my dad, who I am a mini version of, was best case scenario. Somehow, through all the craziness we went through, we can turn everything into a laugh.
We were basically down to the last day and final options. We had two places to go look at, banking that one of them would work. If not, we were back to square one. First place we looked at, my dad wouldn't even let me get out of the car. It was not only on a street I was warned about, it was next door to a mini market that I was told NEVER to enter. So that leaves us with our LAST prospect. A girl I had found on craigslist, she didn't even post any photos but at this point I was contacting everyone. We go in and meet her, check out the place and immediately I feel like it could work. The bedroom is a little small but perfect for someone with hardly any stuff. We talked out all the details and everything was fitting into place. However, she said she had a couple other people coming by to check it out and she wanted to be fair, but she would give me a call by the end of the day to let me know. Leave me hanging potentially the whole day?? I felt sick to my stomach leaving there going about my day. Waiting, waiting, waiting... My dad was on the phone with Cody, who is going through his own transitions, all we needed was some good news for once! Please, SOMETHING go right!!! Then finally, she calls and says she decided that she wasn't even going to bother having the other people come by, we got along great and she wanted me to move in. So there I am, jumping for joy (literally), my dad, who I have seen cry twice in my life, with tears in his eyes and our rental car, headed straight for Ikea!
Now, three weeks later, I am juuust about settled in, loving every minute in our apartment (except for the 1.5 mile straight incline walk home and house centipedes that visit every now and then), feeling so lucky and grateful to of ended up with such an amazing roommate... Everyone, meet Katie...