Moving to Europe.

It is full-on fall in Amsterdam. These past two weeks have been suddenly filled with candles, scarves and (light) sweaters. It's been crisp and sunny, beautiful, but at least 20 degrees colder than it was just two weeks ago, when I was in New York City.

I have moved, officially, here to Amsterdam.

WHAT.

So, since my last post, it has been a whirlwind of paperwork, music to learn, emotions and heavy-lifting. I've packed, unpacked, re-packed all my belongings so many times I'm sick of looking at them. On the 24th of August, I hopped on a plane in Amsterdam and landed at JFK in NYC 8 hours later. Even though I was eager to see my family, I decided to spend that first week tying up everything I could to say goodbye to that chapter in NYC.

Being in Astoria, specifically, was a total shock to the system after months in Holland and traveling. In just a couple of days' time, I packed up my room there, attempted to gather all my belongings, figured out a moving van (which, to my parents' shock, I was planning to drive up to Albany at the end of that week. Yes Mom and Dad, I STILL KNOW HOW TO DRIVE.) Thankfully there was Jennie, who was there to take me for runs in the morning, yoga classes, and fill me with nutritious smoothies and vitamin cocktails for the entire week (never mind just being awesome, therapeutic company each day as I battled severe reverse culture-shock and moving anxieties). The day of my actual move, she challenged me to run all the way into Brooklyn to pick up the moving van (we ran 6 miles there), then she helped my parents and I lug all my boxes into the moving van for the rest of the day. Did I mention I owe her my first born? Yeah.

Truthfully, I didn't get to say goodbye to as many of my friends as I originally planned. I'm not sure if this is common knowledge, but moving outside of the country is... complicated. I felt 145% sure that I wanted to move here, but in case it isn't already established by the very existence of this blog, I am a sentimental woman. I love my family. I loved my years in New York, and all of my friends made there. Sure, I was ready to move on in this moment, but the endless list of to-dos (including things as nutty as tracking down my original Birth Certificate in my birth town all the way upstate, and then having the State apostille it so I can get residency, about 50 documents to fill out, some in Dutch, a police background check on myself, and so on...) made the act of meeting up with everyone I wanted to see somewhat impossible. Two weeks is nothing. I had some excellent heart to hearts before doing so (only a few of which included me bursting into tears like a crazy woman), but there was no way to prepare for how surreal it was all going to feel.

Dinner with Dad  (and Mom, not pictured) = instant therapy

 Luckily, I had the second week with my family up in Albany. I was irritable, energetic, list-making, and eating them completely out of their home, but at least there I knew I could turn 'off' a little and actually get ready. Mom was there to help me pack and think of the practical things I would not have otherwise. Dad was there to get me on my bike and ride across town with him. The last two days I visited my brother at his apartment, swinging on his porch swing at sunset with a beer in hand, feeling, somehow, better and more emotional all at once. Then it was off to my older sister and her husbands' for lunch the next day, where they pep talked the crap out of me and reminded me that this was, in fact, the right call.

I told you it was complicated.

I love my siblings, even if they stole the height in the family.

But, once the plane landed in Amsterdam and I was greeted by friends and little toddlers I love so much here... I felt better. Now, it's a life filled with performances, auditions, and seemingly endless musical preparation. I take long bike rides, and the days are filled with more Disney, dance parties, Stroopwafles, games in the park, and rehearsals at night. I am home, somehow. Homesick for my friends and family always... but home in this strange, foreign, incredible world.