Stuff ....

I have an awful lot of it. Masses of it. Some of it is useful/ purposeful/ decorative/ sparkly, but most of it is just there, sitting about, taking up space.

As I mentioned, I'm living with my mum until the big skip across the pond. We're moving at the end of this week, providing various people do their jobs and nothing goes awry with the signing of papers and transferring of funds. So the last few weeks have been all about the sorting out, packing up and chucking out of stuff. Now I would have thought there wouldn't be that much of mine, I've had several moves to various flats around the country, and each time I've moved I've carbooted, ebayed, donated to charity and thrown away like a mad woman, I was convinced there couldn't be that much left. I was wrong.

Of particular concern was my wardrobe. I was somewhat disheartened to note that even the best of my clothes, those that have survived several purges and charity shop hauls, essentially amount to: several hundred pairs of leggings in various degrees of faded disrepair, a few tops that my mum would refer to as 'jazzy' that I would never wear and have no recollection of buying, some general shapeless grey, black and brown items that I persist in believing 'will do for work' and an assortment of dresses that neither fit, nor are they suitable for anywhere I might be likely to go or any event I might attend. The temptation to throw the lot out and start again is overwhelming. I might get my friends round and make a night of it, build a bonfire out of the leggings mountain and dance round it in the prettiest of the dresses, the one with all the spangly sequins and the big poofy underskirt (also known as the one I can't fasten over my boobs).

So, number one on the to-do list, far more important than all that visa paperwork stuff that I don't entirely understand, is to develop a capsule wardrobe of beautiful, well-fitting items that will take up next to no space in my suitcase yet miraculously turn me into the elegant, grown-up, sophisticated and well accessorised woman who lives in my 'NEW START' fantasies. You can probably find such things in Joseph and suchlike, except they're not called stuff or even clothes, they are called 'pieces'. I want those, but cheaper and in a bigger size.

As for all the rest, I'm hoping that doing this sort out and scale down for the house move will make things a lot easier when it comes to heading out to Boston. I'm being provided with furniture, basic household goods and appliances, and other such items I'll buy out there. I'll be taking photos, to have my loved ones with me at all times, my netbook, and books. Sounds easy enough right?

P.S.

The blog is called Boston Baby because that's how I keep saying it to myself, in the style of  Joey from friends.

I'm now slightly concerned that it sounds like I'm running a blog about babies in Boston, or I'm a Boston mummy blogger (or should that be mommy blogger?). 

If you've stumbled across this page hoping to find out about things to do in Boston with a sprog, or you want to know about breast-feeding friendly coffee shops in the Massachusetts area then I'm sorry. Although if I do find out about any of that stuff I'll be sure to pass it on.

Here goes.

Hello there.

Well, in exactly 10 weeks and 2 days I will be moving from my home town of Sale, South Manchester to Boston. Yikes, crikey and errr, holy crap. It's a big move. I'm both excited and terrified; heartbroken at the thought of all I'm leaving behind and thrilled at the prospect of all I could be gaining.

So how did it come to this? I'm 32 this year, I've had some experience of moving about the world a bit. I'm not as well-travelled as some but I'm not averse to a change of scenery either, and there have been a few places I've called home over the years. Somehow though, through a series of missteps both romantic and financial, I ended up back exactly where I started, back living with my mum in the the very house I grew up in. And it's been fine, it's been good. I have a career I enjoy, family and friends I adore and a dog who is the one true love of my life. I'm busy, I do things I enjoy, I spend time with the people who matter and, for the most part, I quite like my life.

There's a but of course. The but is this - but I've got stuck. But I'm not moving forward. But I've got comfortable with mum and the dog and the watching of Coronation Street in my pyjamas. I've been happy to go to friend's for dinner and to drink the same wine in the same pubs, to walk the dog in the same park and to go to bed with a good book rather than a hot man. Whilst professionally I do what I love and have been given some wonderful opportunities, outside of work I'm not doing anything that scares, challenges or excites me.

Back in March I was doing my usual flick through the international jobs section of a well-known website, something I would do every once in a while solely for daydreaming purposes, when I saw the Boston job advertised and wondered what would happen if I sent an application. I didn't expect to hear back, much less be offered the job, and at first I wasn't sure what I'd do even if I was offered it. The more I thought about it though, the more I realised that this could be the new challenge I needed, something that would take me out of my comfort zone both personally and professionally.

I've decided to write about it here. Not so much the work stuff, I find it's best to keep that offline as much as possible, but more just to record the excitement and nerves in the build up to the big move, as well as the process of settling into my new home city. Hopefully I'll be able to look back on my ramblings from some future vantage point and remember how it felt to be making this change. And of course as the future me watches the waves from the porch of my Cape Cod summer house, or as my handsome, Matt Damon lookalike, Harvard Professor husband polishes the wood floors in our Boston townhouse, I'll be able to remind myself how worth it it all was.