I'm, Like, Totally Gonna Miss The Valley

Why has the idea of leaving The Valley shaken me to my very core? Why is moving a measly 12 miles making me feel like I'm moving away?

I'm a Valley girl, through and through. Except for that awful 6-month stint in Arizona, I've lived here my entire life. It's all I know. And I love it. And I'm going to miss the holy shit out of it.

Don't get me wrong, I'm stoked for our new adventure over the hill. I can't wait to explore our new 'hood. The Hubs and I have always wanted to live exactly where our new place is and I keep pinching myself to make sure our dream is really coming true. But there's something absolutely terrifying about your dreams coming true. What if your dream was wrong? What if once you have it, you discover that you don't really want it after all? What if it just plain sucks?

Then again, what if it doesn't?

Still. I'm gonna miss the good ol' SFV. The 818. My stomping grounds. The smell of night jasmine in the air. Jogging along the Balboa path. October at the Tapia Bros. pumpkin patch. A frozen lemonade at The Sherman Oaks Street Fair. A movie at The Galleria. A Twain's pancake and a Dupar's pie. Orange and purple sunsets over the 101. A memory tied to each and every corner. My roots.

I've got 37 days left (Crap, it's still that far away? Is this not the longest waiting game ever?) as a San Fernando Valley resident. As a true Valley girl. And I'm going to make the most of it. I know I'll be back. It's only twelve freaking miles. My family and friends are still here. But there's something so bittersweet about leaving and I feel the need to respect that. So I'm going to spend the next five weeks indulging in some of my all-time Valley favorite pastimes. Want to join me?

Spring time at Lake Balboa

A Bob's Big Boy combo in Burbank

People watching over coffee at La Reina on Ventura Blvd.

Pool and darts with the gang at the Sweep.

Wholesome goodness at the Studio City Farmer's Market

Oh Valley, you're so pretty.