Back from the dead

What, I ask you, is the purpose of having a blog if you never actually...blog? I'm sorry to have let you down these past few weeks, dear readers (all three of you). I do have a legitimate excuse, I assure you (starts with a D and rhymes with "remorse"; a word which, in and of itself, bears a rather sickening relevance to the situation). For your sake as well as my own, I'm going to omit the gory details. Up until about two days ago though, I had that kind of washed-out, hollow look about me, all apparition-like, as if my spirit had been vacuumed right out of me. I looked and felt like I'd been through an emotional holocaust. The fact that I'm even able to write about this proves the possibility to heal and move on. I do still feel some of the residual effects, so I'm treading carefully, wary of aftershocks. When emotion does get the better of me, I feel it in every nerve of my body, and a chill goes through me as if winter has settled in my body and my insides completely freeze up. I have to just ride it out because there's really nothing anyone can say or do to make it pass. Only time.

My world has completely flipped like a pancake. My brain has yet to fully compute the vast change of direction my life has taken. Somehow over the course of a few days, I managed to score a fantastic apartment and an equally fantastic job, before I'd even had any time to adjust to the idea of moving to San Fran. Once I started in that direction though, as lost and confused and emotionally broken as I was, things seemed to just fall right into place. Now, I'm somewhat skeptical when it comes to fate and destiny, but, if I were a believer, I'd say the universe and the powers-that-be have been pulling some strings. Before you could say "discombobulation", I was packing remnants of my previous lives into a few suitcases, while working to adjust to the prospect of a new life altogether.

And so, here I am. Sitting in a foreign bed, in a foreign apartment, in a foreign city, and asking myself just how the hell I got here. I start work on Monday and it's still so surreal to me. The job itself is terrifying in theory, but seeing as my psyche has yet to fully accept that I'll actually be employed again as of next week, the concept isn't having too much of an impact yet. I imagine the horror will set in around 7 a.m. Monday morning.

My neighborhood is incredible, busy and thriving even on a Tuesday evening. Fun restaurants and shops - windows full of gourmet chocolates, a wide range of international wine, and plenty of jock straps and rubber penis key rings. What more could a girl possibly want? We visited a coffee shop just blocks from my new home, where I managed to confuse the hell out of the French barista with my silly nonsense about "ounces" and what-not. I suddenly felt I'd been transported to Paris as I was experiencing that all-too-familiar, cheek-reddening awkwardness of being the ignorant American idiot. We were able to eventually establish the size I would like, and I was then served what was quite possibly the best vanilla latte I've ever had. God bless the French. They know their coffee.

If the hill leading to our house were any steeper, I would need a harness and some rope. I do know that although it may be torture right now (considering that during the last few weeks, my idea of exercise was walking into the kitchen to grab a sandwich), I know all of this trekking up and down hills will pay off when i have an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. Until then, I'll be huffing and puffing like a pack mule.

I'm off to bed now - have to rest up for another day of leisurely wandering around my new city. San Francisco and I are still getting acquainted and trying to determine if we like each other. My new roommate suggested we go grocery shopping, and my brain initially rejected the idea because my dear, confused brain has yet to accept that this is home. It's going to take some time. Although my brain never did accept Olympia as home, even though it had two (long, painful) years to do so. But who can blame it, really.

Heart day

Tonight my body is in Olympia, my head is in San Francisco, and my heart is in London.

ssshhhhhh

Thought for the Week

“To get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping” -Chinese Proverb

Gratitude

i've been on a brief hiatus on account of my life being thrown into complete upheaval. details are irrelevant; suffice to say, my heart aches and i'm having to change my course in life. i have this overwhelming sense of uncertainty and angst about it all. i can do it, i can be strong when i have to be - sometimes i just get tired of having my strength tested.

watched a documentary on darfur tonight, and i really shouldn't be complaining about a damn thing. i live quite a blessed life. it's not without its challenges, but i certainly am blessed to have all that i have. i'm grateful for every chance i've had to become a better person, to learn from my mistakes and to love with all my heart.

all that being said, nights are the worst.

-------------------------------------------------
Oh you, you have been loved by someone good
Yeah you, you will be loved
Oh will you ever know
That the bitterness and anger left me long ago
Only sadness remains
And it will pass

Phantom

"A large proportion of amputees (50-80%) experience the phenomenon of phantom limbs; they feel body parts that are no longer there. These limbs can itch, ache, and feel as if they are moving. Some scientists believe it has to do with a kind of neural map that the brain has of the body, which sends information to the rest of the brain about limbs regardless of their existence. A similar phenomenon is unexplained sensation in a body part unrelated to the amputated limb. It has been hypothesized that the portion of the brain responsible for processing stimulation from amputated limbs, being deprived of input, actually expands into the surrounding brain, such that an individual who has had an arm amputated will experience unexplained pressure or movement on their face or head. The individual may also experience some trauma as well as emotional discomfort."

-Wikipedia, under "Amputation"

Thoughts for the Week

(I'm borrowing some thoughts from other people because my head's a little tired of thinking...)*

1) "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." -Dr. Seuss
2) “Anyone can give up, it's the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that's true strength.” -?
3) "I am glad that I paid so little attention to good advice; had I abided by it I might have been saved from some of my most valuable mistakes." - Edna St. Vincent Millay
4) "If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell. I'll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another for the rest of my days." -Sylvia Plath
5) "Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up." James A. Baldwin
6) "Love that is not madness is not love." -Pedro Calderon de la Barca
7) "I usually get myself into situations that cause sparks. I mean I'm a girl that likes the storms. I love feeling alive, I love walking out in the cold in my bare feet and feeling the ice on my toes." - Tori Amos
8)" ... take care of the problems now, or else you'll just have to suffer again later when you screw everything up the next time. And that repetition of suffering - that's hell. Moving out of that endless repetition to a new level of understanding - there's where you'll find heaven." -Elizabeth Gilbert
9) "There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them." - Sylvia Plath

*The image comes from http://postsecret.blogspot.com.

Thoughts for the Week

1. If I were a kid with a lengthy wish list, I might be feeling a bit glum right now. But no, there's nothing more that I need. I'm content and cozy and feeling rather safe and warm with the people who have let me change over the years. That's more than enough.
2. Music saves me. And how the hell does I-Tunes manage to randomly select the exact song I need to hear at precisely the right time? One of the great mysteries of life.
3. We're constantly presented with choices. Flats or heels? Coffee or tea? White or wheat? For the bigger ones though, you have to listen to those around you, consider their input, then make the best decision for yourself and hope for the best. It's daunting and terrifying at times, but your heart knows you best and will help you out.
4. Our soulmates are those who hold up a mirror to us and show us what we don't necessarily want to see about ourselves. They can be the most difficult people to be with for this reason, but they're aides in our growing processes. We have to be cognizant of what we're supposed to learn from them, otherwise we miss the lesson and we'll have to do it again later anyway.

Thoughts for the Week

Eh. At least it's over.

Tales from Mexico

Back from the sun and the warmth of Mexico to heavy rains and record-breaking flooding in the Pacific NW. Mexico was amazing from start to finish - a few stressful moments in there; however, nothing uncharacteristic of any holiday, really. It was wonderful to lose my grasp on time and responsibility and do exactly what I felt like doing, exactly when I wanted to do it. Days spent lazing about on the beach and drinking poolside pina coladas; warm, sultry evenings of indulgence on outdoor patios. There was late-night dancing in the middle of a crowded city square - with passersby wondering just who on earth we were. That electric shock machine - what was that?! I think we all lost a year or two off our lives because we were too damn stubborn to give in to the electrifying pain shooting up our arms, as it meant losing the challenge. Tequila shots and boas(?). I'm still beaming with pride that my man successfully downed a pint in one long gulp without spilling a drop. (I helped him to the car later.)



My girls and I, reunited, were just like old times - as if not a single day had passed since our days in London town. Singing at the top of our lungs in an Irish pub to popular songs performed by a local band, tossing back tequila shot after tequila shot ("Queremos ver si Amanda es amiga...!"), and dancing until our legs felt like jelly. Such fantastic times!

Mexico City itself was quite polluted and poverty-stricken, and I wasn't too taken by the city initially - but having the fabulous tour guide that we did, we were able to experience all the best the city had to offer, which the ordinary tourist would certainly miss. Then it was off to Cuernavaca to explore the cathedrals, then Taxco, a lovely little village where we were nearly stranded on account of the tour company deciding they simply didn't want to carry on to Acapulco. Ana and I threw a nice big fuss, so they sorted us out with first-class bus tickets and a private van to take us to our hotel, which - by the way - was magnificent. We actually weren't sure we had the right place at first. The next couple of days were spent playing in the water on wave-runners and water skis, snorkeling (mildly disappointing as the water was very cloudy and all we really saw was each other), and riding out on a little boat to catch a front-seat show put on by the world famous cliff divers. Like I said, the trip was not without its ups and downs, like when Adi's tequila caught up with him and he had a rather miserable morning and I got to play nursemaid, or when that guy charged us 270 pesos for three pina coladas, or when I donated my sweater to the cabbie, then gave the same cabbie 400 pesos instead of 40. Oh, and then there was the 24-hr flight delay on the way home; but we ended up getting free flights out of it, so it all paid off, which means our flights to NYC will be free. Hey, things happen for a reason.

It was an emotional goodbye for me; good friends are hard to come by and I certainly cherish mine. I'm broke now, so won't be traveling anywhere again before NYC...and then everyone will have to come and visit ME!

Have you got any soul?

“Have you got any soul?" a woman asks the next afternoon. That depends, I feel like saying; some days yes, some days no. A few days ago I was right out; now I've got loads, too much, more than I can handle. I wish I could spread it a bit more evenly, I want to tell her, get a better balance, but I can't seem to get it sorted. I can see she wouldn't be interested in my internal stock control problems though, so I simply point to where I keep the soul I have, right by the exit, just next to the blues.

--Nick Hornby

Thoughts for the Week

1. One man's pessimist is another man's realist.
2. The weight of the world's problems can be overwhelming and suffocating at times. It all can make you feel so helpless; however, you have to accept the yin and yang of life and know that your power in changing things will always be limited. In the meantime, enjoy your family, appreciate your freedom, respect your Mother Earth, vote, and know that you should never take a single day for granted.
3. Don't rely on another to do a job for you. You're better off acting as the only one in charge; that way you'll be pleasantly surprised when someone steps up to help out, rather than being disappointed when they don't.
4. Little kids should never be given whistles as toys. And if they are, they should not be allowed to stand directly below my window. My annoyance with other people's children is further evidence that I am nowhere near having children of my own. Then again, of course, my children will be different than everyone else's and will never be given whistles. Ever.
5. On that note, one should practice love and patience for all mankind, in order to "be the change you wish to see in the world" (Mahatma Gandhi). This applies to even those neighbourhood children who annoy the hell out of you.
6. I never know what I'm going to write before I start this blog, but it's funny how reflecting back on the week brings to light the many lessons I'm exposed to on a daily basis. Hmmm...not to mention the many things I've got to work on....

Thoughts for the Week (last week, that is)

I'm late with this this week, but hey, I'm trying:

1. First impressions aren't always right on. Most things/people/places deserve a second chance. And in some cases, three and four and five chances. But ok - six chances at the very most, because let's face it: at that point, it's just a losing battle.
2. The best friends are the kind who you can go years without seeing, and when you do, it's like you only just saw them yesterday and you pick up right where you left off.
3. The best friends are also the kind who you don't really have to explain yourself to because they already know.
4. There is no such thing as being "too professional" for an interview. And if anyone ever tells you this, spit in their eye. Or at least fantasize about spitting in their eye. Because they're stupid.
5. It's a good sign when you go away from home for a few days and you're just as excited to get home as you were to leave.
6. There is no such thing as a "chance meeting." Strangers drift in and out of the picture for a reason, whether it be guidance or direction, or as a type of awakening. Sometimes we need our thoughts or feelings confirmed - and it's nice to run into someone who seems to just get it.
7. There IS such a thing as too much peanut butter jelly time.

Thoughts for the Week

1. Be careful who you trust and/or believe. People sometimes act like they know more than they really do.
2. Instinct is highly underrated.
3. Everyone should come up with a soundtrack for their lives then ask themselves why they chose those particular songs. I find it puts some things in perspective.
4. Ten years ago was ten years ago. You don't live there anymore. Move on.
5. Your family consists of the people who know all the things about you that most people don't. That's why they're so damn hard to be around sometimes.
6. Coffee makes me more tired;
7. And on that note, I love Eggnog Latte season.
8. Sometimes your hero of the day is the last person you expect; for instance, a psycho-conservative, xenophobic, Bush-lovin, Hilary-hatin army guy who disagrees with you on most everything. Because he just might surprise you and rig a drawing so that you win the prize, simply because he knows you need an extra reason to smile.

i want to be a part of it....

So I'm back in the blog world. Let's be honest; I'm sick of MySpace. It bores me. I am no longer driven to blog there. So we're going to revisit the long-ago-abandoned blog I set up here well over a year ago when things were very serious and stressful and I needed an outlet for the preservation of sanity. Maybe this will motivate me to write a bit, as I haven't been doing enough of that. Well, unless you count translating laws and rules regarding retirement plans for state workers. Thrilling material, I assure you.

So the latest is that my trip to NYC is coming up in two weeks. Two weeks?! Doesn't seem real. I was beginning to think the world stopped somewhere outside of Puyallup, and if you go beyond that, you'll just drop off the edge into oblivion. It's been a while since I've been anywhere besides the western half of the U.S. Actually, the NYC excusion in 2006 was the last time I was anywhere east of Evanston, WY. Not to say this part of the country isn't lovely; it is. I'm just ready to broaden my horizons again.

Not only am I going to be in a fabu city, but I will be seeing some friends from London town whom I have not seen in a ridiculously long time. We will be convening for a long weekend of tearing up the town, and I am predicting total misbehaviour. Although the trip feels somewhat last minute, the decision itself took all of about five minutes to make once the suggestion was thrown out there.

This was more or less the way it went:

Me: "I wish I could go to New York."

Mariana: "You should!"

Me: "Hmmm...ok!"

Ok, so what's even better? "Can it get any better, really?" you say. Yes, it can! Adi and I will be joining Miss Mariana and Miss Ana in Mexico for even more fun just two weeks following the New York trip. Hooray! I've never been to Mexico, apart from the one day jaunt across the border into Ensenada, which I would say doesn't qualify as it's more of a garbage pit than an actual town. That's a whole different story.

So needless to say, I'm very excited for these upcoming weeks. Things are looking good.

start spreadin the news

back from a brief escapade to NYC where life's ordinary worries are temporarily replaced with vaguely less complex worries of a tourist-y nature: "Is this the train to Uptown Manhattan?" and, "Is this where we buy our metrocard?", and "Is that gun loaded?" Adi kept begging for us to go to Harlem, simply for the photo opps and the excellent subject matter to write home about, but I suspected that a 6'3'' Legolas look-alike and a German chick with a complexion that screams "Nazi" would make us walking targets. His argument was he's nearly earned himself the American trifecta (the Drive-in, the Drive-thru and the Drive-by), and once he's got the third under his belt, he can officially call himself an "American." I said that'd be great and all, but I'm still not going to Harlem.

So we opted to stick primarily to the Manhattan area, dabbling only briefly in the Bronx and West Brooklyn. Every couple of days we hopped from hostel to hostel with belongings in tow like gypsies. At one point as we were weaving our way through Central Park, a fellow tourist took pity on us and offered to take our picture, as if to somehow ease our burdens. And it did - our aching feet and breaking backs were momentarily forgotten as we took pause to give our surroundings due credit...and, thankfully, the kind lady didn't run off with our camera as we were much too exhausted to give chase.

We took all of the necessary steps to earn our official tourist titles: posed for photos with tourist-y grins intact at Times Square; stumbled accidentally, in true Columbus fashion, into Soho while in search of Little Italy (helps to turn the map right side up); balked at the outrageous prices and opted for fast food for economic reasons (I can testify that NYC's KFC is phenomenal); rented a row boat on the lake in Central Park and laughed at the many idiots in their boats who couldn't quite operate their oars, only to realise it was actually only one other boat, and we were going in a circle.

On Thursday, we escaped to Flushing with the Prada-touting crowd for a day of tennis at the US Open and witnessed the last winning match of Agassi's glorious career. It was an exhuberant atmosphere, and although Agassi was a mere spot of white on the court from my vantage point, I could still feel the power of each winning shot that soared across the net. I did feel as if we were at a baseball game while being subjected to "Louie, Louie" and other such musical atrocities that came blaring over the loud speaker during the breaks. We could do nothing but join in when The Wave came round to our part of the stadium; we couldn't locate the Hot Dog and Peanuts man, but he surely must have been there. Dignity and Tradition had apparently run screaming out the gates long ago.

Any holiday is all about the details. There was, of course, that man on the street corner who screeched at us, "I'll let you punch me in the face for five dollars!!" Adi asked me if he could do it but I said no, considering the guy could probably afford a better lawyer than we could. Street performers apparently make a killing in the city; a couple of boys from the 'Hood had entranced a rather large crowd in Central Park with some ridiculous, cornball humour, and some Russian women were throwing their panties and $10 bills at them. Don King and his 7'4" sideshow creature came out of Tiffany's on 5th into a swarm of shutter-snapping tourists, who I suspect were all more fascinated by the monster trying to curl himself into the limo than by Mr. King and all his arm-waving and shouting.

After a week of rubbing shoulders with the cockroaches and sharing a room with ten people - who had conspired to set their alarms every twenty minutes starting at 6 a.m. - we were ready to come "home", albeit Olympia, WA. But we have returned with some grand memories, a few photos to capture the experience, and the strong inkling that we could potentially make NYC our home once "all is said and done," which was the purpose of the whole trip. It would surely be an adjustment, just as moving to any new city would be, but from what we can estimate at this point, it would be a worthwhile one. Now, it's just a matter of getting there. It's been a long road that we're on, and I'm hoping it will eventually take us to where we want to be, if only we're patient enough to hold out that long. You know the saying, "Good things come..."? Hopefully those so-called "good things" start coming our way soon, because I'm tired of the wait.

Renascence

The world stands out on either side
No wider than the heart is wide;
Above the world is stretched the sky,
--No higher than the soul is high.
The heart can push the sea and land
Farther away on either hand;
The soul can split the sky in two,
And let the face of God shine through.
But East and West will pinch the heart
That can not keep them pushed apart;
And he whose soul is flat -- the sky
Will cave in on him by and by.

- from "Renascence" by Edna St. Vincent Millay

a disconcerting state of limbo

Twenty-three straight days of rain so far. We arrived 28 days ago, just to put some perspective on the situation. Not that there is any shock to the revelation that yes, indeed, it does rain in Washington state. We were as well prepared as we could have been, considering we weren't prepared for any of this at all (er, not referring to the rain here). Going blindly forward is what daring lives are all about - or perhaps foolish lives, not sure yet...

A life in limbo resembles something like this: waking at no particular hour of the day, rising to a lazy breakfast/lunch and consuming however many cups of coffee necessary to rouse your lethargic senses, perusing the internet for jobs you can't actually apply for as of yet until 'things get sorted', wandering to the store where you will then wander down the aisles until you finally invent a reason to purchase something, reading that incredibly mind-numbing book from your long list of 'must-reads', only to realise your reasoning behind it is to tell every intellectual snob you come across in the future that you did. Finally, you discover - as you watch the rain pour down outside while you are quite literally trapped indoors for fear of drowning - that your muscles are atrophying before your very eyes and you can now hide things in the folds of your stomach. Welcome to the life of the plotter.

Adi says we've earned our plotter's rights, and anyone who knows us at all and is aware of the pace at which we operated over the past year may be inclined to agree. However, soon the time will come for the rain to pass, for there to be some vague semblance of certainty in our situation and for the greyness of our lethargy to be replaced by motivation and action.

Until then i'll be here - plotting - watching the sky, and waiting for the clouds to finally break.