Bend or Bust

Bend or Bust

I broke up with my boyfriend 48 hours ago.

46 hours ago, I called my family and told them I’m moving back to Oregon. But not to Eugene, my old stomping grounds. No, I’m moving to Bend.

24 hours ago, I gave notice on my rental house — a craftsman, one block from the beach in Venice, CA.

23 hours ago, I noticed a new neighbor, moving in down the street. I asked if I could snag his empty moving boxes. He said yes.

12 hours ago, I started packing.

Now I’m sorting through the stuff I’ve accumulated over 10 years and feeling overwhelmed. A tiered cupcake stand? (Baby shower. Not my baby. I have no babies.) Two coffee grinders? (No idea. I’m too lazy to grind my own coffee.) Three cans of WD-40? (Um, whatever it was, it must’ve been really squeaky.)

But I’m excited. Excited for a new chapter. 

Why Bend? Because Austin is too crowded (and hot). Because I have Oregon in my blood. Because I miss the green. Because I want to be closer to my family. Because I want to walk down the street without seeing a sea of fedoras. Because I am afraid of what I’ll become if I stay here. Because I want to put down roots, and that seems impossible in LA.

It’s time. I’m not sure if my reasons are good ones, but the deed is done. I’m scheduled to hit Bend in late September.

So that’s it. Hello, Bend! Goodbye, LA.

I have no idea what the coming month will bring, but I plan throw it all up here. I’m bending forward, leaning into the curve… BRING. IT. ON.


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