The proper place for me to jump into this, I think, is the old homestead. Like James Van Der Beek before me, it was time to leave the Creek. Unlike Van Der Beek, who had to say good bye to Katie Holmes, and Michelle Williams, and his hot mom, I only had to say so long to my landlords who never fixed our garage door and the lady with the cigarette breath and VERY large leg tattoo that cut my hair. I think her name was Dwayne.
Kristen and I bought a home in Mt. Pleasant. We moved in at the end of November and we couldn't be more pleased. Our neighborhood sits on a highway that goes straight to Monck's Corner where Kristen's vet practice is located and I'm just a short drive from downtown Charleston. After a year of living in limbo, it's nice to have a place to put roots down and call something ours. We bought a two story home and Jeffrey and OD both get a kick out of running up and down the stairs. At the top of the stairs, a balcony looks out over the living room. Every now and again, Kristen and I will be watching TV and we'll hear a whine. We look up and there's Jeffrey sticking his lion mane through the balcony looking down at us. Kristen usually freaks out and sprints up the stairs to grab him but I keep watching because if he falls, I'm pretty sure he could get at least six inches of air on the rebound. I don't want to miss that. Granted, I'd be inconsolable after the fact, but I'd be proudly inconsolable.
We have a fireplace now and it's nice to have a fire burning every night. One of our favorite parts about the new house though, is the fact that we're out of town enough that when you walk out on the back porch and look up, you feel like you can see every star in the sky. We're both excited about spring and summer so we can spend hours out there looking up. Kristen probably says that because she wants to make out with me and be romantic. I say that because just once in my freaking life, I want to say I actually found the Little Dipper. I'm probably going to get in trouble for typing that.
Living in Mt. Pleasant brings with it a small amount of scorn. Apparently the town has a local aura of snobbery. The only rebuttal I have to that is thus: If living in a town with great restaurants, great schools (threw that in for mom so she'll think we're at least thinking of having kids and therefore won't ever bring it up), cultural events, great shopping, low crime, Raising Cane's, it's own Cupcake store, and extremely close proximity to the beach, then color me snobby. I'll wear that badge with pride as I drive the five minutes to the beach to go surfing.
We really feel like we made the right decision by moving out here last year. We struggled with that for a long time for the first few months we were here because we were having a hard time finding a happy place. Now, when I smell the salt on the breeze and hear the rustle of the palmettos or when I'm walking downtown on the warm cobblestones, I feel like I'm home.
