tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44227858713591240182008-06-25T18:32:15.797-07:00Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16476638377384672388noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4422785871359124018.post-24980889705891396532008-05-29T10:00:00.000-07:002008-05-28T21:20:18.742-07:00<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;">Welcome to my blog.<span style=""> </span>As a certified life coach specializing in relocation, my intentions are to provide you, my readers, with moving tips, specific actions you can take to deal with the stress and emotions that are part of relocating, provide insightful and interesting articles and websites that will be helpful and bring a little humor to it all.<span style=""> </span>Because after all, life is too short to not find some humor in things we do and encounter.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;">I’ll start by sharing one of my first relocation experiences.<span style=""> </span>I was off to college in a state far away from where I grew up.<span style=""> </span>I grew up in <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">New York</st1:state></st1:place> and my goal was to go as far away as I could to college.<span style=""> </span>I wanted to experience life in another state and not go to college with many of the same people I went to high school with and of course, thinking I knew it all, I thought the farther from home I was, the more grown up I was (I was, of course, wrong).<span style=""> </span>My parents agreed that I could go away but not west of the <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Mississippi</st1:state></st1:place>.<span style=""> </span>Being a “smart” kid, I decided to go to school in <st1:city st="on">New Orleans</st1:city>, <st1:state st="on">LA</st1:state>, right on the <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Mississippi</st1:state></st1:place>.<span style=""> </span>I had never been to <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">New Orleans</st1:place></st1:city>, didn’t know anything about the city but thought it sounded exciting and adventurous and romantic to live in the “Big Easy”.<span style=""> </span>And, of course, there was Mardi Gras.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:arial;">So off I went.<span style=""> </span>We arrived at about <st1:time hour="2" minute="0" st="on">2:00 am</st1:time> after many delays in the middle of August.<span style=""> </span>Now if you know anything about NO, you know that the ideal weather is NOT in August, not even at <st1:time hour="2" minute="0" st="on">2:00 am</st1:time>. As we walked outside, we were hit with a blast of HOT, STEAMY, MOIST air, unlike anything I had ever experienced before.<span style=""> </span>What had I gotten myself into?<span style=""> </span>I turned to my mom and said, “I should have gone to the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placetype st="on">University</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename st="on">Vermont</st1:placename></st1:place>”.</p> <span style="font-family:arial;">Long story short, I loved the campus, loved <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">New Orleans</st1:city></st1:place>, had much more fun than a college student should have and had bad hair for 4 years.<span style=""> </span>This was the start of my adventures, wanting to experience new places and new people and I’m still doing that.<span style=""> </span>My last move was to <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Phoenix</st1:city></st1:place>, 1 ½ years ago.<span style=""> </span>I think I’ll stay here for a while and yes, it’s incredibly hot in the summer but at least I have good hair days.</span><br /><p><br /><p><br /><p><br /><p><br /><p><br /><p><br /><p><br /><p><br /><p><br /><p>Stephaniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16476638377384672388noreply@blogger.com