2,100 miles. 30 hours. 5 boxes shipped and seemingly endless packed - or should I say Tetris’d - into the car. And here I am in the land of Land O’ Lakes, General Mills, 10,000 lakes, and my entire family. Yes, I’m feeling a little chilly (already), but overall, I’m so dang happy to be here.

Dad flew out to California from Minnesota about a week ago to help me pack and Tetris-ify all my crap - I mean stuff! - into the tiny little Toyota Corolla I call “Chia” (like the chia seed, not the chia pet). I thought I would be asking him for tissues the entire time, but instead, we were both more nervous about how we’d fit everything into the car and therefore I couldn’t even think about crying yet. So that was nice. Once we did fit everything into shipping boxes and then into the remaining space in the car, we took a break for brunch at NoVo Restaurant & Lounge.

And then it was time for the goodbyes. I hate goodbyes! I really hate peas and the word “nipple” (I prefer “nip”, thank you), but I really really hate goodbyes. My stomach churned all week as I thought about how I’d say goodbye to the girls who have become my best friends in just two short months and to the wonderful town that has become home over the course of five amazing years. I delegated the 8-hour drive on Sunday to Dad because I knew I’d be too teary-eyed to navigate the road.

So… yeah. The goodbyes happened and they were terrible and there isn’t much else to say other than, “Hi friends, if you’re reading this, I miss you and love you like crrrraaaazy!”

Dad and I pulled into St. George, Utah at around 9 PM on Sunday night and dinner was the first discussion. With Denny’s and another similar diner with “bear” in the name being the only places around (besides the gas stations with their tempting hot dogs and nachos and other *gourmet* indulgences), I didn’t have much of an appetite, so I pulled out half a loaf of some banana bread I had made earlier in the week along with some RX Bar peanut butter and called it a night. Dad shuffled around the room trying to figure out his hunger level - he’s more of a meal kind of guy rather than snacky. He ripped a chunk off the loaf and, still chewing, kindly let me know that “it’s dry”. I knew it wasn’t my best loaf, but figured whatever, he will go eat a real meal. NOPE. He continues tearing pieces off my (dry) dinner, seeming to just brush off the fact that all he’s said about it so far is how not good it is. You’re welcome. I think?

The next morning, I grabbed a cup of coffee from the breakfast set-up for a pre-workout kick before I squeezed myself into the 4’x4’ space between the couch and the door for a quick 30 minutes of movement. If there’s one thing I need in the morning - especially before 8 hours of sitting on my peach - it’s a good, sweaty, full-body workout. It took a little rushing through the shower and the workout and the getting all my stuff back together, but we did make it out the door and on the road by 8 AM. Again, you’re welcome. I’m good. Reeeeal good.

I took the wheel for the first 3 hours through the gorgeous red rocks and hills of Utah, but my eyelids grew a little too heavy for me to be behind the wheel by about 11 AM, so that’s when we pulled off for lunch and decided to switch pilots. Okay, don’t laugh at me, but Subway sounded SO good for some odd reason, which I’m thinking has a lot to do with nostalgia way more than actual flavor of Subway itself. Dad laughed. I ate my Subway sandwich as he munched on some tacos from a sketchy-looking food truck down the dirt road.

And with that, we hopped back on the road. Drive. Drive. Drive. Keep driving. Finally, we hit Vail, Colorado right and it. was. gorgeous. Absolutely amazing. Yellow-leaved trees studded the hillsides amongst the dark green ones, and the river glistened in the golden hour as it flowed through just down below. We felt like kids in a candy store, “ooh”-ing and “ahh”-ing at the world around us.

Our Monday night stop was in Denver, CO where we met up with Connie for dinner and drinks. I kept telling Dad how excited I was for him to meet her because - those of you who know Connie will agree - she’s just one of the best people on this earth. And she’s one of the few people I’d really want to see after spending 8 hours trapped on my butt in the car. We picked Linger for drinks and dinner, and each bite made us more and more excited for the next. The food was amazing!

I thought Colorado and Connie was the end of the fun for the trip, as the drive through Nebraska and Iowa would be mainly flat fields of corn, corn, and more corn. I wasn’t wrong about the corn, but I was wrong about the duration of our fun - Dad and I know how to make a good time out of seemingly not much. Our final stop on Tuesday night was at a little hotel just outside of Omaha, Nebraska. In search of dinner, we hopped from restaurant to bar to restaurant in the downtown area in the pouring rain while I tried to hide the fact that I was wearing sandals. Hi, I’m from California.

The name of the restaurant we chose for dinner isn’t coming back to me, and it doesn’t really matter that much because it was nothing crazy special, but here’s dinner anyway.

And on Wednesday we were back on the road, one last time! One last 7-hour stretch before we finally arrive at our destination. Boy, was I ready to get out of the car. Our choice of entertainment for one part of this ride was a Hidden Brain podcast called “Creating God”, and I would highly recommend giving it a listen - preferably with someone who can discuss with you the questions and thoughts that will likely arise - if you have even the smallest interest in faith. My dad and I question just about everything, so we doubled the length of the podcast just by discussion alone.

Before we knew it, our stomachs growled and we pulled off the road to fill up the gas tank and our hungry tummies. No, we did not find a Subway, but instead found a better sandwich stop to satisfy the never-ending craving. Two hours later, I started to recognize my new home - the “Welcome to Minnesota” sign, downtown Stillwater, our cute little neighborhood lined with trees boasting their Fall-themed leaves. Home. I could feel it already.

Mom welcomed us inside with big hugs and a beaming smile, and I got right to unpacking so that I could stretch my cramping legs. I stepped into the bedroom my parents set aside for me that I’ve been impatiently waiting to make my own and couldn’t believe I was finally here. Finally in Minnesota. Just over a month ago, I cried on my bedroom floor in San Luis Obispo as the fear that I’d never leave that place and be close to my family (where I desperately needed to be). Anxiety took over - a new world to me - and tried to convince me that moving to Minnesota wouldn’t happen, but here I am, finally.