Surprise! We're moving out of our van!

*cue Noah Kahan singing I wanna go to Maine*

I have been keeping a secret. (I am terrible at not immediately sharing things, especially since becoming very active on the internet like seven years ago, so I am rather proud of this. I spilled zero beans until the end of last month’s recap email.)

Sean and I signed a lease for a studio in Portland, Maine!

We’ll arrive at our new apartment on the first of May. For three months we’ll live within walking distance of our favorite kombucha brewery (find me writing there multiple times a week) and take actual baths in a tub all our own (this prospect is hard to fathom after two-plus years in a van) and spend as much time as we can with friends in the area (the biggest draw). I’ve also already put some in-person writing workshops on my calendar—if you’re in the area and want to chat words (or dogs or etc) please hit me up!

It shall be wicked.

And then we’ll move right back into Hermes for more travel, because the idea of actually “settling down”—committing to one place for any sort of long haul—still does not appeal to us at all.

I’m finding this strangely important to emphasize: While I’m over-the-moon about calling Portland home for a few months, we are not tired of being nomads. (Read: Pry Hermes from my cold, dead hands.)

This summer’s decision just came down to logistics. At first we talked about merely making a lengthy van visit to the Portland area again, maybe two or three times as long as we were there in the fall of 2023 and spring of 2024. But if we’re going to spend weeks on end in one city—hoping to live more like locals and enjoy proximity to one of my best friends (who does not have private property we can park on)—eventually someone will notice the yellow van hanging about. And that might rightly make them uncomfortable.¹

So for anything beyond a couple week off-and-on stay, the best approach is longer term lodging. Our solution? A furnished studio with a designated parking space. It’s about five times larger than our van’s square footage, making it a downright palace—I feel so lucky we were able to find such an ideal option.

It will be, as previously said, wicked.

It will also be weird. Since settling into our van 800-some days ago, we’ve slept less than 30 nights—not even 4 percent of our time—outside our rig. Do I even remember what it’s like to live in a “normal” residence?

And it will be weirdly wonderful. Already I dream of walking to a dual cafe/bookstore not far from our apartment, and jogging along the promenade, and always having a level floor big enough to do my core physical therapy exercises. I close my eyes and imagine dinners with Liz and Austin, and park trips with their son Henry, and the joy that is being able to move closer to people you love (even if just for a season).

1. The Portland area is the only location we’ve ever had the cops called on us, actually—though I wouldn’t use “rightly” in that case. We were at a public park in the early afternoon. 🤷🏼‍♀️ But I get it. Some loud, disrespectful nomads can easily ruin spots for everyone else.