I have weird dreams.
When I say weird, I mean premonition, deja vu, badda bing badda boom dreams.
And I don't like them.
Sometimes they come true...it's freaky. Normally only when it's a dream I can remember...but since I'm a nut and am constantly daydreaming, I have a hard time differentiating between what dreams are real and which are imaginary stories in my head.
Let's just say this last one better be fake.
I'm sitting here in the Denver airport with nothing better to do than ponder the meaning of life. I really love the free internet here...I mean, who the hell has the nerve to charge 8 bucks for a half hour of wifi? That's preposterous. I'm definitely pro universal wireless...the world will be a much better and more connected place.
Of course, this is coming from a freakishly obsessed internet fiend who can't wait to move to Africa and get rid of Myspace, Facebook, LJ, blogspot, etc etc etc....but until then, I'll indulge.
I'm on the way to Reno. I discovered a long time ago, the first time I moved there actually, that I didn't belong. I don't fit in with the people, I have different goals than the majority, and I act like a 60 year old gin drinking man. But Reno is where my family is, so technically that is "home." Even though I feel like a stranger. Reno's a small town, something that I remind myself of every time I click around the Myspace/Facebook world we reside in. Someone knows someone who knows someone who works with someone. It's like a small town cest pool.
I shouldn't run into Big. Because I never ran into him while we were dating and I shouldn't run into him when we aren't, right? Of course, Newton will have something to say about that assumption. I digress. It's ok. I am just another American woman living. Average. No?
I will hopefully be able to handle the maturity gap for two weeks. I don't mean to offend, but if you think about it, I'm actually putting my self down. Twenty year olds aren't supposed to act like mothers, 60 year old men, or drink gin and dry red wine. But I do, so deal.
I left my mat at home (NYC home). Too many Christmas gifts. So I'll be diving into Ashtanga on the icky poo mat...but I can't wait.
Speaking of yoga, my roomie walked in on me in lunge bind today. Talk about awkward moment. But I had to get my fix for the day!
This is a completely uneloquent mumbo jumbo of oh wait, I went to sleep at 3, got up at 6:30, took a final, got home by 9:30, and cleaned my entire apartment. After yoga, of course. AND packed. I'm a super trooper.
I think I really want soft serve right now. I don't eat ice cream very often...and I still have an agonizing hour before my plane departs.
Apparently my brother crashed the car coming back from his girlfriend's. Um. Girl. Friend. Somehow he's starting to have a functional relationship. I on the other hand am being called mom by the other's seven year old while baking cookies. Functional? I think not.
One day I will stop being a selfish attention whore. Until then, just embrace me.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Superficial Mentalities
I'm so...over this.
This...
this...
thing. That is my life.
Because you know what. It doesn't matter what I look like. Put some makeup on anyone and they'll look like a million bucks. Remove the eyeliner and blush and you have a regular old person. A person who ages. A person with blemishes. A person who will eventually age in a million and a half ways. Beauty is subjective and beauty is fleeting.
I wish people understood that.
I don't like it when you call me "beautiful" because that means nothing to me. It means that you are looking at me as an object, not as a person. You are viewing the shell of me. You are viewing the facade that I have built, that God has molded, as a preface to the person, as a shield to my real person. It's a thick shell. And calling me "beautiful" "gorgeous" "hot"--that shows how little you have even attempted to chisel your way through it.
I had a conversation once. No. That's not true. I've had this conversation several times. With different people. Where they elaborate on their use of the term after an outburst of mine.... A memorable one was this person who, for the first time, revealed (or so I thought) that they had been slowly chiseling away at my shield, and had actually gotten through. A later conversation with another person showed that it shouldn't have taken two years for that to happen. Beauty, in that sense, is something that is internal. The latter saw how I was with a child...and only then did that person see my true self. because who can honestly keep a shield up around a child?
I like to think of myself as a beautiful person. Inside, not necessarily out. Because, honestly, when I am in the raw bitter moments that only a few people have seen me in, I don't consider myself a physically pretty person. But inside...hopefully that light shines through.
So don't call me beautiful. Don't tell me I'm pretty. Don't comment on my physical characteristics, because that's so superficial it disgusts me. Talk to me about things that matter. Have conversations about your passions, because that is what gets me. What you love I love, what I love, hopefully you'll love. Talking is hard...but it's magical. And that's the only complement I can ask for. View my intelligence. View my opinions. Actually see who I am...and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you in. Until then, consider the Great Wall secure.
Go watch Chuck. It's a funny show. I love nerds....big sigh. He can help fix my computer any day.
This...
this...
thing. That is my life.
Because you know what. It doesn't matter what I look like. Put some makeup on anyone and they'll look like a million bucks. Remove the eyeliner and blush and you have a regular old person. A person who ages. A person with blemishes. A person who will eventually age in a million and a half ways. Beauty is subjective and beauty is fleeting.
I wish people understood that.
I don't like it when you call me "beautiful" because that means nothing to me. It means that you are looking at me as an object, not as a person. You are viewing the shell of me. You are viewing the facade that I have built, that God has molded, as a preface to the person, as a shield to my real person. It's a thick shell. And calling me "beautiful" "gorgeous" "hot"--that shows how little you have even attempted to chisel your way through it.
I had a conversation once. No. That's not true. I've had this conversation several times. With different people. Where they elaborate on their use of the term after an outburst of mine.... A memorable one was this person who, for the first time, revealed (or so I thought) that they had been slowly chiseling away at my shield, and had actually gotten through. A later conversation with another person showed that it shouldn't have taken two years for that to happen. Beauty, in that sense, is something that is internal. The latter saw how I was with a child...and only then did that person see my true self. because who can honestly keep a shield up around a child?
I like to think of myself as a beautiful person. Inside, not necessarily out. Because, honestly, when I am in the raw bitter moments that only a few people have seen me in, I don't consider myself a physically pretty person. But inside...hopefully that light shines through.
So don't call me beautiful. Don't tell me I'm pretty. Don't comment on my physical characteristics, because that's so superficial it disgusts me. Talk to me about things that matter. Have conversations about your passions, because that is what gets me. What you love I love, what I love, hopefully you'll love. Talking is hard...but it's magical. And that's the only complement I can ask for. View my intelligence. View my opinions. Actually see who I am...and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you in. Until then, consider the Great Wall secure.
Go watch Chuck. It's a funny show. I love nerds....big sigh. He can help fix my computer any day.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Distance: the time space continuum.
What is this...this...thing. I really wish someone could tell me.
Oh wait. They already have.
It's feeling. It's scary. It's going with the flow. It's allowing the breath to reside within my body and actually experience something.
Or so I'm told.
What started off as a simple debacle of a night turned into...this. This thing. It's new. I'm not sure how I feel about it. But it's nice.
Dear GOD it's finally happened. A new chapter.
What is distance? Distance is space. Space that can easily be transcended. Some distance is easier to transcend than others, but all in all, space is time. Time on a plane, train, street, whatever. Some times people can't get past the space that looms ahead. But sometimes, surprisingly, people come along that see distance for what it is, that being time.
The last time, distance was seen as a problem. Something that could not be changed. The distance between this concrete jungle and the looming deserts was too much. Looking back, the space didn't exist materially, but existed mentally. The space was created between hearts, minds, souls. The space grew and grew, sometimes it was overlooked, most times it was the ominous rift between us. While I prepared and prepared, fought and fought, I still wound up head over heels, faceplant, yard sale, whatever you want to call it, infatuated. At one point in time, I actually thought it was love. But what is LOVE. Does it even exist? There's the undying love I feel for my family, there's the simple love from children, and there's the love I feel for my good, no, great friends. But...what is "Love" in the All American just like the movies mumbo jumbo of life? I'm not sure that it actually exists. In fact, I'm fairly certain that it's all a product of Hollywood, made to make our lives, Missed Connections, and whatever other shit that we feed and buy into every day profitable. I digress. Distance, space, time--he wasn't ready. Wouldn't ever be. I actually want to say that the maturity gap, that space, was more of a factor than anything. Here I am, the 70 year old man who drinks gin and tonics and drinks woody dry red wine inside the body of a 20 year old. Every once in awhile, I'll have my moment of "age" but that only happens when I am...fully aware of its existence. Other than that, I'm an old soul. I wanted an old soul to match my own...apparently, that old soul didn't...doesn't...exist in the body of that particular 25 year old. On my merry way.
But then again, Mr. Big, Mcdreamy, whatever comes back doesn't he? Well this time, with a few carefully phrased (courtesy of the one and only IV due to my unnatural frenzy of hysteria) messages, I curtly asked him to refrain from contact. Mr Big no more. It was like the movies. And I hate the movies.
Except for Dan in Real Life. That was hilarious.
This time. There's actually a "this time." Different person. Who would have thought that would ever happen? Certainly not I. This was...is...not in the plan. This is not in the plan of my celibate single adoptive mother illness curing future. This time, distance is literally just time. Distance is seen as space. Distance is not the factor. That's ridiculous. Of course, when distance is taken away, there's the many other factors that are involved. I think I just pick...I think I am just THROWN into complicated situations. That is why I am "complicated." In more ways than just the facebook sense. Transcend distance, meet age, meet responsibilities, meet family, meet life, meet more complications than just space, than just time. Nope. I asked for it, didn't I?
Being the skeptic that I am, I assumed that everything in this matter was orchestrated. An attempt to play me at my own damn game. Well, haha, like I would be fooled. I'm not one to be duped. Then I get a "You grew up so quickly in so many ways...it's like...you came to this part and said NOPE NO WAY, stop right there!" It's so true. While I may act like a 70 year old man, when it comes to connecting with other people, dropping the guard, and letting someone else in...I'm basically 12 years old. Somehow that's supposed to make sense. Somehow, I'm supposed to work. Well, God, I don't really know if that all works that way. I'm pretty sure I can be a mother. But a girlfriend? Yea, right. And that is the true irony of my life.
For now, que sera, sera. That is supposed to be my motto. I'm supposed to have transcended this "former me" of schedules, rigidity, and walls...but of course, Big had to come back and force me to build another layer. But I actually don't know if I did...I mean...I fought fought FOUGHT tooth and nail to prevent the layer from forming on my already iron clad mindheartsoul. I really, truly did. I just hope it worked.
In the end, what is distance? Distance, in a material earthly sense, is negligible. It's the distance of the mind heart soul that makes all the difference. Distance in maturity. Distance in life experiences. For everything else, we have public transportation. So what's going to win this time? There are some huge distances...it'll be interesting to see how big of a distance they become.
Yea, that's right. It. Will.
Future tense.
I'm going to do as my friend, the wise oh so wise yogi non yogi himself tells me to do. I'm going to shut up and breathe.
Now I just need to stop fighting my brain. My brain always trumps my heart. So hopefully, soon, I can stop thinking, start feeling, and just BE here, now. Because distance is mental. Distance is not physical.
So much easier said than done.
Oh wait. They already have.
It's feeling. It's scary. It's going with the flow. It's allowing the breath to reside within my body and actually experience something.
Or so I'm told.
What started off as a simple debacle of a night turned into...this. This thing. It's new. I'm not sure how I feel about it. But it's nice.
Dear GOD it's finally happened. A new chapter.
What is distance? Distance is space. Space that can easily be transcended. Some distance is easier to transcend than others, but all in all, space is time. Time on a plane, train, street, whatever. Some times people can't get past the space that looms ahead. But sometimes, surprisingly, people come along that see distance for what it is, that being time.
The last time, distance was seen as a problem. Something that could not be changed. The distance between this concrete jungle and the looming deserts was too much. Looking back, the space didn't exist materially, but existed mentally. The space was created between hearts, minds, souls. The space grew and grew, sometimes it was overlooked, most times it was the ominous rift between us. While I prepared and prepared, fought and fought, I still wound up head over heels, faceplant, yard sale, whatever you want to call it, infatuated. At one point in time, I actually thought it was love. But what is LOVE. Does it even exist? There's the undying love I feel for my family, there's the simple love from children, and there's the love I feel for my good, no, great friends. But...what is "Love" in the All American just like the movies mumbo jumbo of life? I'm not sure that it actually exists. In fact, I'm fairly certain that it's all a product of Hollywood, made to make our lives, Missed Connections, and whatever other shit that we feed and buy into every day profitable. I digress. Distance, space, time--he wasn't ready. Wouldn't ever be. I actually want to say that the maturity gap, that space, was more of a factor than anything. Here I am, the 70 year old man who drinks gin and tonics and drinks woody dry red wine inside the body of a 20 year old. Every once in awhile, I'll have my moment of "age" but that only happens when I am...fully aware of its existence. Other than that, I'm an old soul. I wanted an old soul to match my own...apparently, that old soul didn't...doesn't...exist in the body of that particular 25 year old. On my merry way.
But then again, Mr. Big, Mcdreamy, whatever comes back doesn't he? Well this time, with a few carefully phrased (courtesy of the one and only IV due to my unnatural frenzy of hysteria) messages, I curtly asked him to refrain from contact. Mr Big no more. It was like the movies. And I hate the movies.
Except for Dan in Real Life. That was hilarious.
This time. There's actually a "this time." Different person. Who would have thought that would ever happen? Certainly not I. This was...is...not in the plan. This is not in the plan of my celibate single adoptive mother illness curing future. This time, distance is literally just time. Distance is seen as space. Distance is not the factor. That's ridiculous. Of course, when distance is taken away, there's the many other factors that are involved. I think I just pick...I think I am just THROWN into complicated situations. That is why I am "complicated." In more ways than just the facebook sense. Transcend distance, meet age, meet responsibilities, meet family, meet life, meet more complications than just space, than just time. Nope. I asked for it, didn't I?
Being the skeptic that I am, I assumed that everything in this matter was orchestrated. An attempt to play me at my own damn game. Well, haha, like I would be fooled. I'm not one to be duped. Then I get a "You grew up so quickly in so many ways...it's like...you came to this part and said NOPE NO WAY, stop right there!" It's so true. While I may act like a 70 year old man, when it comes to connecting with other people, dropping the guard, and letting someone else in...I'm basically 12 years old. Somehow that's supposed to make sense. Somehow, I'm supposed to work. Well, God, I don't really know if that all works that way. I'm pretty sure I can be a mother. But a girlfriend? Yea, right. And that is the true irony of my life.
For now, que sera, sera. That is supposed to be my motto. I'm supposed to have transcended this "former me" of schedules, rigidity, and walls...but of course, Big had to come back and force me to build another layer. But I actually don't know if I did...I mean...I fought fought FOUGHT tooth and nail to prevent the layer from forming on my already iron clad mindheartsoul. I really, truly did. I just hope it worked.
In the end, what is distance? Distance, in a material earthly sense, is negligible. It's the distance of the mind heart soul that makes all the difference. Distance in maturity. Distance in life experiences. For everything else, we have public transportation. So what's going to win this time? There are some huge distances...it'll be interesting to see how big of a distance they become.
Yea, that's right. It. Will.
Future tense.
I'm going to do as my friend, the wise oh so wise yogi non yogi himself tells me to do. I'm going to shut up and breathe.
Now I just need to stop fighting my brain. My brain always trumps my heart. So hopefully, soon, I can stop thinking, start feeling, and just BE here, now. Because distance is mental. Distance is not physical.
So much easier said than done.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Yoga to the People
I want to take a moment to introduce you to something.
Life.
There's this little place that resonates in the heart of Little Old New York called Yoga to the People. It's a donation based yoga studio that is right in the East Village, Saint Marks to be exact. Donation based. Instead of paying all of these ridiculous prices for these pretentious studios of Manhattan, you just go and have the opportunity to be.
The teachers are random, students varying, and everyone is there for the chance for an hour to themselves. BE SELFISH!
The past year, this studio has taught me so much. The past few weeks, I have discovered a place within me that I thought would never come back. Happiness. I've realized that I'm ok with the person that I am because no matter what people say, it only matters that I'm good on the inside. People can love me and people can hate me...all that I can do is give them everything I am. The people in this studio have this quality that amazes me...inner beauty. They all look out for each other and don't judge!
So to cut this short, just go. Check it out for yourself. I want everyone to have the chance to experience life! New York is full of superficiality...throw that to the side, come in, breathe, sweat, and live!
yogatothepeople.com
Make your own judgments about it.
Life.
There's this little place that resonates in the heart of Little Old New York called Yoga to the People. It's a donation based yoga studio that is right in the East Village, Saint Marks to be exact. Donation based. Instead of paying all of these ridiculous prices for these pretentious studios of Manhattan, you just go and have the opportunity to be.
The teachers are random, students varying, and everyone is there for the chance for an hour to themselves. BE SELFISH!
The past year, this studio has taught me so much. The past few weeks, I have discovered a place within me that I thought would never come back. Happiness. I've realized that I'm ok with the person that I am because no matter what people say, it only matters that I'm good on the inside. People can love me and people can hate me...all that I can do is give them everything I am. The people in this studio have this quality that amazes me...inner beauty. They all look out for each other and don't judge!
So to cut this short, just go. Check it out for yourself. I want everyone to have the chance to experience life! New York is full of superficiality...throw that to the side, come in, breathe, sweat, and live!
yogatothepeople.com
Make your own judgments about it.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Que sera, sera...
I am not a risk taker when it comes to "feelings" or "love."
I'd much rather bottle up my copious amounts of emotions and expend my energy on more efficient things such as school, work, yoga, and other people. I give all of myself to prevent myself from feeling and having to take risks.
I am an ambitious person. My high levels of motivation got me to NYC. Nothing stands in my way. Ever.
Well, sometimes life likes to give you a sharp kick in the ass.
I am undergoing a transformation in which I am adopting the "Que sera, sera" lifestyle and actually just being rather than doing. In order to let my life happen as it has been predetermined, I had to take a risk. While adopting my new lifestyle, I discovered that I don't always have control over my emotions, and sometimes I need to let it out. I also discovered that I can no longer participate in my own game, because life is NOT a game, it is an experience.
As my roommate then said, "Isn't it better to love, than not love at all?"
I question this statement. Is it better? With love comes pain and rejection. I mean, you can hope for the best, but life isn't THAT great.
So I wrote a letter. I actually swallowed my pride and took a risk. Because I was taking myself out of the game for good. Unless I was given a reason otherwise. I mean, sure, I've done my part in rebounding, but rebounds are supposed to work, not send you deeper into "that." After weeks of thinking, I had found myself making compromises--future compromises, but compromises none the less. When job searching abroad, I found myself looking for two jobs instead of one. Now, this is completely uncharacteristic of the very selfish ambitious me. And this is (and will be) my demise. At the end of this letter, I wrote that if unanswered I'd understand and take that as the answer.
Well, I guess I lied. I don't understand. Actually, it sort of hurts. Really hurts. Two years of the game of tug of war meaning nothing? I guess I'll just never figure it out.
But I'm done trying. I'm done trying to figure things out. Some things aren't meant to be figured out, they're just meant to be, they're meant to learn from.
So I'm learning.
I mean, Lord, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me; fool me several times, kill me.
Part of my que sera is to stop trying to figure things out. There is meaning in everything, but it will show it's face in time. No more unfigureoutability.
In a few minutes I'm taking the final stand. Complete deletion. Complete erasure. No more stalkage, no more messages, no more text messages. Over. Done. Dusted hands off.
A huge saga coming to an end (with the help of some serious operant conditioning).
I'm scared to death.
But I know that this is for a reason. I will remain independent, I will have allowed myself to feel, and I will be able to FINALLY move on with my life. Hey, who knows, maybe I'll give some poor guy a chance.
Even though I'm a man crusher as Ilan so lovingly puts it.
The ultimate rejection. This is the only time...ever. It sort of feels good. To know that I am human. A reality check. I can be as conceited as I want, I can be a 7 on a bad day on the scale of Ralph, but there is at least one person who doesn't want to partake in my life. That's fine with me. At least it will be.
I hate being a silly girl sometimes, but I guess this is the one time I allowed myself to BE a girl.
This semester has been and will be crazy and busy. I'm avoiding fashion week like the plague because I need to detox...the Cavalli party is NOT detox. I'm beginning training to be a yoga teacher. Ha, right? Yoga teacher? WTF? I was as surprised as you when Greg approached me, but it's something that I will always be able to bring with me, wherever God sends me.
So.
Do your practice, and all is coming: Namaste.
Take that to heart. Because for once, I'm going to take my own advice, grow up, and just go with the flow. Life is an experience that I need to allow in. And good things will come with the bad. But all of it has a purpose.
Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be.
I'd much rather bottle up my copious amounts of emotions and expend my energy on more efficient things such as school, work, yoga, and other people. I give all of myself to prevent myself from feeling and having to take risks.
I am an ambitious person. My high levels of motivation got me to NYC. Nothing stands in my way. Ever.
Well, sometimes life likes to give you a sharp kick in the ass.
I am undergoing a transformation in which I am adopting the "Que sera, sera" lifestyle and actually just being rather than doing. In order to let my life happen as it has been predetermined, I had to take a risk. While adopting my new lifestyle, I discovered that I don't always have control over my emotions, and sometimes I need to let it out. I also discovered that I can no longer participate in my own game, because life is NOT a game, it is an experience.
As my roommate then said, "Isn't it better to love, than not love at all?"
I question this statement. Is it better? With love comes pain and rejection. I mean, you can hope for the best, but life isn't THAT great.
So I wrote a letter. I actually swallowed my pride and took a risk. Because I was taking myself out of the game for good. Unless I was given a reason otherwise. I mean, sure, I've done my part in rebounding, but rebounds are supposed to work, not send you deeper into "that." After weeks of thinking, I had found myself making compromises--future compromises, but compromises none the less. When job searching abroad, I found myself looking for two jobs instead of one. Now, this is completely uncharacteristic of the very selfish ambitious me. And this is (and will be) my demise. At the end of this letter, I wrote that if unanswered I'd understand and take that as the answer.
Well, I guess I lied. I don't understand. Actually, it sort of hurts. Really hurts. Two years of the game of tug of war meaning nothing? I guess I'll just never figure it out.
But I'm done trying. I'm done trying to figure things out. Some things aren't meant to be figured out, they're just meant to be, they're meant to learn from.
So I'm learning.
I mean, Lord, fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me; fool me several times, kill me.
Part of my que sera is to stop trying to figure things out. There is meaning in everything, but it will show it's face in time. No more unfigureoutability.
In a few minutes I'm taking the final stand. Complete deletion. Complete erasure. No more stalkage, no more messages, no more text messages. Over. Done. Dusted hands off.
A huge saga coming to an end (with the help of some serious operant conditioning).
I'm scared to death.
But I know that this is for a reason. I will remain independent, I will have allowed myself to feel, and I will be able to FINALLY move on with my life. Hey, who knows, maybe I'll give some poor guy a chance.
Even though I'm a man crusher as Ilan so lovingly puts it.
The ultimate rejection. This is the only time...ever. It sort of feels good. To know that I am human. A reality check. I can be as conceited as I want, I can be a 7 on a bad day on the scale of Ralph, but there is at least one person who doesn't want to partake in my life. That's fine with me. At least it will be.
I hate being a silly girl sometimes, but I guess this is the one time I allowed myself to BE a girl.
This semester has been and will be crazy and busy. I'm avoiding fashion week like the plague because I need to detox...the Cavalli party is NOT detox. I'm beginning training to be a yoga teacher. Ha, right? Yoga teacher? WTF? I was as surprised as you when Greg approached me, but it's something that I will always be able to bring with me, wherever God sends me.
So.
Do your practice, and all is coming: Namaste.
Take that to heart. Because for once, I'm going to take my own advice, grow up, and just go with the flow. Life is an experience that I need to allow in. And good things will come with the bad. But all of it has a purpose.
Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Back in the saddle again....
Out where a friend is a friend...
Except so totally not.
Friendships. Everyone has a different definition...every time I try to define it for myself and other people, I get some smart ass retort about how, "Well, this is what our 'friendship' is to me...." Honey, that's not friendship, that's sex. I aint no hoe bitch! Yes, I can be quite ghetto. This is what I pay 45K per year for!
School began today. But let's preface that with a little explanation of why I've been MIA/going completely nuts for two weeks.
Before I left for NY, I spent quite a bit of time A) Crying, B) Saying goodbye, C)apologizing, D)thinking. Thinking about how EVERY year, the first two weeks back is always something completely unexpected and incomparable to the rest of the year....In fact, I pretty much know that I won't be continuing the way I've been living: I am a student who will be working hard. Yes. YES.
But. Until today I was a single woman in NYC with nothing better to do. I would get up and read in Tompkins until one of the last yoga classes, then I would go to yoga, come home, and chat with the person subletting my apartment. That's another story entirely. I walked into my apartment to hell. Mold, flies, garbage, dirty dishes, food, my room filled ceiling to floor with boxes. That was fucking fantastic. If you know me, you know my little...clean...thing....and this was basically my hell. Anyway, this (omitting many many of the details) led to me partying like a rockstar with the owners of rockstars at various places around this lovely city. Reno-->NYC=culture SHOCK. Steak, Italian, Vodka, Cristal...gratis...it has been one hell of a trip.
I've been discovering quite a bit about myself. For one, I could quit school right now and live a fabulous life of parties, models, Cristal, celebrities, fashion shows, free meals, and more...easy as pie. But. I don't want to. I never in a million years thought that I would have this kind of power...but, not to be completely conceited, I do. I some how have the ability, as Ilan has noticed, to look at a man and be offered the world. I have had the Hamptons, yachts, cocaine,Justin Timberlake, bodies, sex, dinners, meals, trips, Italy all offered to me in just two weeks. Little miss innocent being thrown into a lifestyle that only appears on movies. But I keep saying no. NO.NO.NO. No to Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll. Nope. All I wanted to do was go back to school and LEARN something. Really. There's a world I could enter into...and I have the gall to say NO?
All I want is chivalry. A guy to buy me flowers, open my doors, and hug me when I'm sad. I don't need Cristal. I don't need the Hamptons. I don't need drugs or parties or celebrities. I need an old soul to match my own. Throwing this old soul into this crazy world...it's fun and all, but I'm just too intelligent for this shit.
What do I want? My brain is going a mile a minute because I have no idea. All I know is that I don't want that. I want comfort. Stability. Compatibility. Not booze and drugs.
Today was one of those days where everything goes wrong, and all I wanted was someone to hug me and say, it's ok. But no. I came home to awkward silence and a cold cold egotistical person. You thought I was cold. This was verging on malice. Vindictive. When my mom finally called me I actually talked to her for a half hour without yelling at her, because I just wanted someone ANYONE to tell me,"It's ok, I'll pray for you. Everything will be alright."
I've learned a lot the last two weeks. I reaffirmed some of the traits I was afraid I had lost, I grew up, and I realized that I can't just sit here devoid of emotion my entire life.
Ilan's old coworker, who works for Prada, has been dating his gf for 5 years. She's the 'one.' But right now, they're trying to fix their "boring" relationship by sleeping with other people. When I informed this boy of my sexual experience (or lack thereof)he was quite taken a back. Apparently I exude sex. I beg to differ.
I mean, honestly...is this what the world is coming to?
I tried to explain love to Ilan the other day. Not that I have a fucking clue. But...the way in which we all so freely say I love you. I mean, we're waiting for the subway, and I said "Ilan, I love you, you know?" And honestly,I love him...not in a bf/gf way but in the "I would do anything for you and will always be there for you" kind of way. There's such a big difference between the two:one you use so sparsely and so carefully, the other we throw around. But a love like mine with Ilan is just...deep. Strictly platonic. I mean, we both like men. He then said," Well, then, I guess...in the American way...I love you too!" Truly a moment.
So, anyway. School officially began. Nothing is going my way and my classes are ridiculously hard, but I will keep on trucking. I'm looking forward to Bobst dates with Ilan and Kait, more the whole Jaimie has a fabulous Bobst bag aspect(teddy grahams, peanut butter, wheat thins, licorice, tea, water.)
We'll see what happens. My mind is moving a mile a minute where sometimes I'm in love with the idea, and sometimes I'm in love with the man. So I'll have to focus that energy on my school work. I just don't know...but will I ever? I'm done. Done with the game, done with trying...I'm just going to live life.
Que sera, sera. Que sera.
Except so totally not.
Friendships. Everyone has a different definition...every time I try to define it for myself and other people, I get some smart ass retort about how, "Well, this is what our 'friendship' is to me...." Honey, that's not friendship, that's sex. I aint no hoe bitch! Yes, I can be quite ghetto. This is what I pay 45K per year for!
School began today. But let's preface that with a little explanation of why I've been MIA/going completely nuts for two weeks.
Before I left for NY, I spent quite a bit of time A) Crying, B) Saying goodbye, C)apologizing, D)thinking. Thinking about how EVERY year, the first two weeks back is always something completely unexpected and incomparable to the rest of the year....In fact, I pretty much know that I won't be continuing the way I've been living: I am a student who will be working hard. Yes. YES.
But. Until today I was a single woman in NYC with nothing better to do. I would get up and read in Tompkins until one of the last yoga classes, then I would go to yoga, come home, and chat with the person subletting my apartment. That's another story entirely. I walked into my apartment to hell. Mold, flies, garbage, dirty dishes, food, my room filled ceiling to floor with boxes. That was fucking fantastic. If you know me, you know my little...clean...thing....and this was basically my hell. Anyway, this (omitting many many of the details) led to me partying like a rockstar with the owners of rockstars at various places around this lovely city. Reno-->NYC=culture SHOCK. Steak, Italian, Vodka, Cristal...gratis...it has been one hell of a trip.
I've been discovering quite a bit about myself. For one, I could quit school right now and live a fabulous life of parties, models, Cristal, celebrities, fashion shows, free meals, and more...easy as pie. But. I don't want to. I never in a million years thought that I would have this kind of power...but, not to be completely conceited, I do. I some how have the ability, as Ilan has noticed, to look at a man and be offered the world. I have had the Hamptons, yachts, cocaine,Justin Timberlake, bodies, sex, dinners, meals, trips, Italy all offered to me in just two weeks. Little miss innocent being thrown into a lifestyle that only appears on movies. But I keep saying no. NO.NO.NO. No to Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll. Nope. All I wanted to do was go back to school and LEARN something. Really. There's a world I could enter into...and I have the gall to say NO?
All I want is chivalry. A guy to buy me flowers, open my doors, and hug me when I'm sad. I don't need Cristal. I don't need the Hamptons. I don't need drugs or parties or celebrities. I need an old soul to match my own. Throwing this old soul into this crazy world...it's fun and all, but I'm just too intelligent for this shit.
What do I want? My brain is going a mile a minute because I have no idea. All I know is that I don't want that. I want comfort. Stability. Compatibility. Not booze and drugs.
Today was one of those days where everything goes wrong, and all I wanted was someone to hug me and say, it's ok. But no. I came home to awkward silence and a cold cold egotistical person. You thought I was cold. This was verging on malice. Vindictive. When my mom finally called me I actually talked to her for a half hour without yelling at her, because I just wanted someone ANYONE to tell me,"It's ok, I'll pray for you. Everything will be alright."
I've learned a lot the last two weeks. I reaffirmed some of the traits I was afraid I had lost, I grew up, and I realized that I can't just sit here devoid of emotion my entire life.
Ilan's old coworker, who works for Prada, has been dating his gf for 5 years. She's the 'one.' But right now, they're trying to fix their "boring" relationship by sleeping with other people. When I informed this boy of my sexual experience (or lack thereof)he was quite taken a back. Apparently I exude sex. I beg to differ.
I mean, honestly...is this what the world is coming to?
I tried to explain love to Ilan the other day. Not that I have a fucking clue. But...the way in which we all so freely say I love you. I mean, we're waiting for the subway, and I said "Ilan, I love you, you know?" And honestly,I love him...not in a bf/gf way but in the "I would do anything for you and will always be there for you" kind of way. There's such a big difference between the two:one you use so sparsely and so carefully, the other we throw around. But a love like mine with Ilan is just...deep. Strictly platonic. I mean, we both like men. He then said," Well, then, I guess...in the American way...I love you too!" Truly a moment.
So, anyway. School officially began. Nothing is going my way and my classes are ridiculously hard, but I will keep on trucking. I'm looking forward to Bobst dates with Ilan and Kait, more the whole Jaimie has a fabulous Bobst bag aspect(teddy grahams, peanut butter, wheat thins, licorice, tea, water.)
We'll see what happens. My mind is moving a mile a minute where sometimes I'm in love with the idea, and sometimes I'm in love with the man. So I'll have to focus that energy on my school work. I just don't know...but will I ever? I'm done. Done with the game, done with trying...I'm just going to live life.
Que sera, sera. Que sera.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
home.
Home. What is "home?" Is home where the heart is, where your family is, where you're currently living, where you've lived the longest, where? The answer is different for everyone, so I guess the answer lies within oneself. For me, home is where I feel...myself. Home is a place that I can go to and just feel comfortable in my own skin, confident with my personality, and sexy despite all of my flaws. It's a place I can go to feel the weight lift off of my shoulders, a place where I can FINALLY stop pretending. That place, I've realized today, is New York City.
I dreaded coming back. I didn't want to leave my family, I didn't want to leave the bonds I'd created, the memories I'd made, the experienced I'd come to know...but I did. One of my biggest characteristics is my ambition and drive--something that I won't let anyone take from me, but this summer, I wanted to let go of this immensely. But now that I'm back, I realize the void I've felt, the sadness within me.
Walking around today, seeing the familiar places, ignoring the idiots,judging the rest, and drinking coffee that wasn't Starbucks....I felt at home, I felt myself. Sitting in Tompkins reading, listening to a solo saxophone, and watching the frisbees and kids, I just felt comfortable. I felt comfort, confidence,and alive all at the same time. Relief washed over me and I felt alive.
But where do you draw the line between ambition and compromise?
I haven't figured this out yet. I have this thing where I can't possibly imagine myself making changes in my life for another person,mostly because every time I have it has back fired. But then I wonder if I just sabotage myself. I don't let anyone know what my motives are, so how should they know?? Should everyone just learn to read my mind--a mind that I keep quite under wraps? Yep. Guess so. I haven't found the balance,if you find it,let me know. For know I'll remain selfish and concentrate on myself. I'm twenty...I guess that's what a twenty year old living in New York City is supposed to do, eh?
The warmth will just have to wait. I am pretty closed up, but when people are able to read through this silly wall, I'm quite amazed. It also surprises me when someone notices those quirky things I do that I don't even notice. I mention this because someone has, which is so strange as this person is a stranger.
It's nice.
For now, I'm home, wandering, living, breathing, reading, and simply BEING in this concrete jungle. It's my home. I guess I'm sort of in love with NYC. It gets me. (And caffeinates me.) I'm so tired of moving. I'm so tired of living out of a suitcase. In a few days,I'll be able to unpack and actually make myself at home in my home. For now,I'll live with the relief that I feel. It's so damn satisfying.
I dreaded coming back. I didn't want to leave my family, I didn't want to leave the bonds I'd created, the memories I'd made, the experienced I'd come to know...but I did. One of my biggest characteristics is my ambition and drive--something that I won't let anyone take from me, but this summer, I wanted to let go of this immensely. But now that I'm back, I realize the void I've felt, the sadness within me.
Walking around today, seeing the familiar places, ignoring the idiots,judging the rest, and drinking coffee that wasn't Starbucks....I felt at home, I felt myself. Sitting in Tompkins reading, listening to a solo saxophone, and watching the frisbees and kids, I just felt comfortable. I felt comfort, confidence,and alive all at the same time. Relief washed over me and I felt alive.
But where do you draw the line between ambition and compromise?
I haven't figured this out yet. I have this thing where I can't possibly imagine myself making changes in my life for another person,mostly because every time I have it has back fired. But then I wonder if I just sabotage myself. I don't let anyone know what my motives are, so how should they know?? Should everyone just learn to read my mind--a mind that I keep quite under wraps? Yep. Guess so. I haven't found the balance,if you find it,let me know. For know I'll remain selfish and concentrate on myself. I'm twenty...I guess that's what a twenty year old living in New York City is supposed to do, eh?
The warmth will just have to wait. I am pretty closed up, but when people are able to read through this silly wall, I'm quite amazed. It also surprises me when someone notices those quirky things I do that I don't even notice. I mention this because someone has, which is so strange as this person is a stranger.
It's nice.
For now, I'm home, wandering, living, breathing, reading, and simply BEING in this concrete jungle. It's my home. I guess I'm sort of in love with NYC. It gets me. (And caffeinates me.) I'm so tired of moving. I'm so tired of living out of a suitcase. In a few days,I'll be able to unpack and actually make myself at home in my home. For now,I'll live with the relief that I feel. It's so damn satisfying.
Monday, August 6, 2007
My heart just skipped a beat....
But it's still not the same. You know that feeling where your heart is going a mile a minute and you have butterflies all of the time....the wonderful feeling that I used to have...until it was ripped out of me, stomped all over, and vomited back in over and over and over.... Basically. Not to be dramatic, but it's sort of what it felt like. I suppose one could say that I'm a bit of a masochist, and I guess I am in a way, because I keep going back for more. But this time, it's just not the same. My heart may still skip a beat every once and awhile, but it will keep on beating a second later.
Chivalry died with romance. And with that "I said I'd never fall in love again, but then pop goes my heart..." I guess I'm waiting for my heart to go POP.
I can wait a little longer.
I think i just need to be busy again. I may be traveling like there is no tomorrow, but that doesn't make me busy.... My datebook may be full, but it's not full of the kind of stuff that helps me forget things. Only 15 more days!!
I just got back from a family filled weekend. Drove up to nor-cal and saw my Por Pors family: her brother's dying of cancer...and I think this is the first time I've actually met him. It's quite sad really, how old and frail he looked. But he still had his Mak family spunk. Not that kind of spunk. Her sister is quite old too...and it's so awkward that she doesn't actually speak English. that's so difficult!
Well anyway, I was completely against going on this trip, but I actually had an amazing time. Ate way too much though. It was my great-aunt's 80th birthday/her 58th wedding anniversary, so the party was quite the sight. In their million dollar home (with tennis courts) there was wine and food galore...and tons of family. When I walked in with my little cousin Jenna, I had a few too many relatives ask me when I had her....and if she was mine. I think five hours straightened them out...i didn't want to be the new family scandal! It was so good to see everyone...Aunty Vi was her usual drunk self and the rest of the family gave me a hard time about school and boys. My uncle George gave me a lecture that I wasn't allowed to get serious with anyone until i had a career. i'm pretty sure I'm sabotaging any chance of a relationship myself with that reason in mind....so he's proud of me. Aunty Vi on the other hand...well...to her marriage at 22 is old. Little does she know...22 is way too young.
Other than the constant pressure of doing well in school, making a name for myself, and meeting a respectable young man for the family (requirements including helping all relatives up and down stairs, opening doors for everyone including myself, and according to Aunty Vi, sending roses once a month. Ha. Didn't I already say that Chivalry is dead? This is going to be tough.) to torture upon the expectation of my promptly popping out babies, the weekend was fantastic. I love my little cousins...I'm always overwhelmed by the amount of love that they exhibit towards me. Some of them barely even know me, but immediately just love me and want to be around me. It's that kind of love that I miss. It sucks living so far away.
Which has brought me back to the realization that I always have: Family is the only consistency in your life. You turn your back on them and you have NOTHING. Friendships, relationships: they are all fleeting. Family is a type of love that is ingrained in your soul. I have built this...wall...around me my entire life. I don't let people in, I don't let ANYTHING in. It's actually been troubling me lately, because I have been hurt and in response to that i thickened my skin...but did I thicken it too much? I have found that I can't fell anything. I don't feel sadness or love or desire or infatuation or anger or hurt. Nothing. It's like I'm wandering around with no soul. I have convinced myself that I am happy, but am I? The only times in the last few months that I have been truly happy are when my little cousins are around or when I'm with a friend who just GETS me with no questions or judgments. Which is extremely rare in this town.
And the internet. The all conspiring hell that I have become addicted to. It constantly tells me far more that I want to know. The worst thing about private profiles is that I can't stalk people. The best thing about private profiles is that I can't stalk people. I find out information that I just don't need to know. I make assumptions about everything, and that then turns into disgust. And disgust is not being taken over by butterflies anymore. And the thing is, I'm not about to actually ask if my suspicions are true, because I'd rather not know for certain. But the fact that i have suspicions just sucks out my soul and leads me to harden my shell. Which is already way too hard. And the cycle of masochism continues that I will never be able to figure out.
For this week, I'm sticking with family. Jenna is here and her love is just...so pure. All I have to do is pick her up and curl her hair, and her heart is mine. Saturday I'm off on a trip for a few days with some family that is coming from Italy. I don't know them and haven't kept up with my italian...this could be interesting. It's good to get away from Reno though, even though I don't have that much longer...and I'll get to spend time with my italian family! Asians this week, Italians this weekend, and then back to Reno to finish off the cycle. Then its off to New York to unpack, figure out my life, and start sucking up to the right people. Ack! I also need to find a job...I'm thinking full time on the weekends and part time during the week. I am broke as a joke and I just bought a new pair of shoes....I needed them, ok? I do live in the city....
So little time, so little time, but my heart will keep on beating.
Chivalry died with romance. And with that "I said I'd never fall in love again, but then pop goes my heart..." I guess I'm waiting for my heart to go POP.
I can wait a little longer.
I think i just need to be busy again. I may be traveling like there is no tomorrow, but that doesn't make me busy.... My datebook may be full, but it's not full of the kind of stuff that helps me forget things. Only 15 more days!!
I just got back from a family filled weekend. Drove up to nor-cal and saw my Por Pors family: her brother's dying of cancer...and I think this is the first time I've actually met him. It's quite sad really, how old and frail he looked. But he still had his Mak family spunk. Not that kind of spunk. Her sister is quite old too...and it's so awkward that she doesn't actually speak English. that's so difficult!
Well anyway, I was completely against going on this trip, but I actually had an amazing time. Ate way too much though. It was my great-aunt's 80th birthday/her 58th wedding anniversary, so the party was quite the sight. In their million dollar home (with tennis courts) there was wine and food galore...and tons of family. When I walked in with my little cousin Jenna, I had a few too many relatives ask me when I had her....and if she was mine. I think five hours straightened them out...i didn't want to be the new family scandal! It was so good to see everyone...Aunty Vi was her usual drunk self and the rest of the family gave me a hard time about school and boys. My uncle George gave me a lecture that I wasn't allowed to get serious with anyone until i had a career. i'm pretty sure I'm sabotaging any chance of a relationship myself with that reason in mind....so he's proud of me. Aunty Vi on the other hand...well...to her marriage at 22 is old. Little does she know...22 is way too young.
Other than the constant pressure of doing well in school, making a name for myself, and meeting a respectable young man for the family (requirements including helping all relatives up and down stairs, opening doors for everyone including myself, and according to Aunty Vi, sending roses once a month. Ha. Didn't I already say that Chivalry is dead? This is going to be tough.) to torture upon the expectation of my promptly popping out babies, the weekend was fantastic. I love my little cousins...I'm always overwhelmed by the amount of love that they exhibit towards me. Some of them barely even know me, but immediately just love me and want to be around me. It's that kind of love that I miss. It sucks living so far away.
Which has brought me back to the realization that I always have: Family is the only consistency in your life. You turn your back on them and you have NOTHING. Friendships, relationships: they are all fleeting. Family is a type of love that is ingrained in your soul. I have built this...wall...around me my entire life. I don't let people in, I don't let ANYTHING in. It's actually been troubling me lately, because I have been hurt and in response to that i thickened my skin...but did I thicken it too much? I have found that I can't fell anything. I don't feel sadness or love or desire or infatuation or anger or hurt. Nothing. It's like I'm wandering around with no soul. I have convinced myself that I am happy, but am I? The only times in the last few months that I have been truly happy are when my little cousins are around or when I'm with a friend who just GETS me with no questions or judgments. Which is extremely rare in this town.
And the internet. The all conspiring hell that I have become addicted to. It constantly tells me far more that I want to know. The worst thing about private profiles is that I can't stalk people. The best thing about private profiles is that I can't stalk people. I find out information that I just don't need to know. I make assumptions about everything, and that then turns into disgust. And disgust is not being taken over by butterflies anymore. And the thing is, I'm not about to actually ask if my suspicions are true, because I'd rather not know for certain. But the fact that i have suspicions just sucks out my soul and leads me to harden my shell. Which is already way too hard. And the cycle of masochism continues that I will never be able to figure out.
For this week, I'm sticking with family. Jenna is here and her love is just...so pure. All I have to do is pick her up and curl her hair, and her heart is mine. Saturday I'm off on a trip for a few days with some family that is coming from Italy. I don't know them and haven't kept up with my italian...this could be interesting. It's good to get away from Reno though, even though I don't have that much longer...and I'll get to spend time with my italian family! Asians this week, Italians this weekend, and then back to Reno to finish off the cycle. Then its off to New York to unpack, figure out my life, and start sucking up to the right people. Ack! I also need to find a job...I'm thinking full time on the weekends and part time during the week. I am broke as a joke and I just bought a new pair of shoes....I needed them, ok? I do live in the city....
So little time, so little time, but my heart will keep on beating.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
On the Road
I travel. It's just what I do. It's what I plan to turn into my career, my future, me. Well, I guess that's false as it already IS me. The downside of living this fantastic dream of a life that most people will only ever experience in pictures is the inability to put my roots in. I can't really call anywhere home, I don't have "friends from back home," and every time I pack up that suitcase I'm leaving someone, or something, behind.
This is the little dark truth that no one ever wants to admit. I strive towards independence and pride myself on not leaving any loose ends or anything to tie me down, but the fact of the matter is that there are always loose ends and things tying me down. I thought that by getting an apartment and establishing an address in NY that I would make it my home, but the close I get to having to pack up and go back there the less and less I want to do so. I love the city, and love the excitement, but every time I'm there I constantly miss the normalcy of family and consistency of friends. People are constantly changing but when in NY, the city changes faster, the people are NEVER the same,. Half of my friends graduated and moved away, the other half are going into their senior year...this year's already vying to be tough.
And then there's the little factor that I want to go to Africa my senior year. This would force me to give up my apartment, and halfheartedly live somewhere for a semester....the roots I tried to put down are already being ripped out.
And then there's family. My "last family trip " was to China....on the trip my parents talked about going on their own trips, sans my brother and I. So we are on our own little trip in hawaii. That's right, I'm in Hawaii right now. I should be on the beach, but my brother is sleeping. Sigh. Anyway, before we left my parents realized how boring a trip alone would be, as my dad wouldn't have a drinking partner and you can't play liverpool rummy with only two people. so they invited me along to meet my cousins/aunt, the Saarmons, while they're on their yearlong Caribbean adventure in June. This just defeated the purpose of my apartment...I need to get a job, not live life in limbo any more, and that's what they are pulling me to do! If I do, in fact, decide that Africa is plausible, I may do it. But who knows. Life of a wanderer.
Speaking of which, I'm currently reading On the Road by Jack Kerouac. Interesting novel, filled with little life lessons. I also saw what my...old friend....from Spain...was doing...he wants to BE the characters and tried to become them while in Spain. Maybe another reason why we are no longer friends. He wanted me to be Marylou and he wanted to be Jack/Dean. Except that in New York, with the boy back home out of the picture, I still couldn't be his Marylou. Or maybe I was too much like Marylou. Either way, it never works out, does it? I guess I'll find out when I finish.
As I sit here on the beautiful Island of Maui typing this (faster than it will appear on the screen, so it's really tripping me out) I wonder what the next year will bring me. About a week ago a big change happened...which is truthfully terrifying. Something I can't tell a soul in Reno, but will be letting everyone on the East know...I'm sure they will (and are) proud. But it makes me wonder....am I really cut out for my self proclaimed life alone. I always say I'll be the unmarried old lady with the birds, or will spend my life jet-setting, leaving no time for a family or a life, but that little maternal instinct its back. Well, it never left. I thought about it...I could be a singe mom, but how HARD would that be? Especially for the child that I plan on adopting...they're already going to have enough on their plate from the orphanage, but then being taken in by me? God save us all. And I'm quite sick of myself. I don't let any one in because I know that friendships and relationships are fleeting. But that just sucks and it really does put a damper on my brain. Why I don't give myself a chance to be happy is beyond me. That's a lie. It's because I don't want anyone affecting my determination and plans. The future me is telling the current me to forsake happiness love or friendship for the unknown of living life on the edge. Bouncing around from place to place, letting life come to me, and traveling around the world....it's what I want to do, but I already foresee the life of loneliness. I hate saying goodbye, so I try to make it so that I never have to.
I should learn from the past 20 years, but I suppose I never will. My life really is like a movie, and I expect it to stay that way.
I suppose everything will work out, right? I just need to pray a lot. Well, if I pray at all it will be more than I'm doing now. I've really fallen....my friend from high school, Jenna, has myspace now. She was the one person who always kept me on the right path, and now she is totally judging me. I don't really care, but then again, I do. A level of my morality is gone, but I will still be the same[person, good on the inside. I just like to do some...not so good...things. I'm supposed to be an example for the world around me, especially for my cousins, but as I look at them I just wonder if I failed. I was a pretty good kid, but they are younger than I was when I started ANYTHING they are doing. It makes me wonder if I was the reason they are corrupt....it really sucks being the oldest. The full responsibility of their lives falls on my shoulders. Great.
For now, I'm saying c'est la vie and letting my life play out. I have 3 years of school, for my Masters, and so many thing i want to do. I guess whatever will be will be and I just have to wake up and DO IT. I wish that I didn't live in such a fantasy world, but so far, a lot of the things I've dreamed up in my mind have happened, while not always WHEN I wanted them to happen. My life is pretty amazing, it's just a little lonely. I guess loneliness is the price I have to pay. Some day everything will work out, I'm sure of it. Tyler thinks some man is going to completely surprise me, and I sure as hell hope so. It takes a lot to put up with me.,...not even going to try to lie. I'm a piece of work. I am demanding and independent and to match anything that I will throw at you you'd have to be a pretty strong person. Not many people are like that...everyone's a pushover. But I hold my ground and you'd better hold yours. Or else, what's the point? One day someone will match my personality and be able to keep up with me...either that or throw a lasso at me and tie me down. That's probably what I'm asking for. In order for that to happen, I'll have o keep working and trucking forward. I don't want to be tied down, because there's so much LIFE to experience. But what if I'm leaving something behind?? I guess I'll just have to wait and find out.
So, it's Hawaii this week, Reno some of next, Northern California for the rest of next week, Reno, Tahoe, Reno, then back to the big city. I need to buy furniture, but I think I'll keep it minimal...who knows how long I'll need it. I can't wait to see my love bug Ilan as I have much to dish and he has much to dish. he' probably the one person who matches me on travels...New York to Israel, to Madrid (where he saw Bjork!) then Milan...Back to New York some time after me....mhm baby can't wait to see him. We have our differences and we fight, but he (so far) is the one friend who I had a big blow out with and then took back. I actually apologized to him after some tears. His personality is as fierce as mine, but he knows what's best for me and I know what's best for him. I'd marry him if he was my type...and straight. Hehe. Our kids would probably be gorgeous and SUPER exotic. They woud also have impeccable palates. Too bad.
Time to wake up the brother. It's already 9:30 over here off the mainland!! PS: My perpetual jet lag is quite the trip. I travel too much...my body totally hates me. I need some yoga. Toga. :)
♥
This is the little dark truth that no one ever wants to admit. I strive towards independence and pride myself on not leaving any loose ends or anything to tie me down, but the fact of the matter is that there are always loose ends and things tying me down. I thought that by getting an apartment and establishing an address in NY that I would make it my home, but the close I get to having to pack up and go back there the less and less I want to do so. I love the city, and love the excitement, but every time I'm there I constantly miss the normalcy of family and consistency of friends. People are constantly changing but when in NY, the city changes faster, the people are NEVER the same,. Half of my friends graduated and moved away, the other half are going into their senior year...this year's already vying to be tough.
And then there's the little factor that I want to go to Africa my senior year. This would force me to give up my apartment, and halfheartedly live somewhere for a semester....the roots I tried to put down are already being ripped out.
And then there's family. My "last family trip " was to China....on the trip my parents talked about going on their own trips, sans my brother and I. So we are on our own little trip in hawaii. That's right, I'm in Hawaii right now. I should be on the beach, but my brother is sleeping. Sigh. Anyway, before we left my parents realized how boring a trip alone would be, as my dad wouldn't have a drinking partner and you can't play liverpool rummy with only two people. so they invited me along to meet my cousins/aunt, the Saarmons, while they're on their yearlong Caribbean adventure in June. This just defeated the purpose of my apartment...I need to get a job, not live life in limbo any more, and that's what they are pulling me to do! If I do, in fact, decide that Africa is plausible, I may do it. But who knows. Life of a wanderer.
Speaking of which, I'm currently reading On the Road by Jack Kerouac. Interesting novel, filled with little life lessons. I also saw what my...old friend....from Spain...was doing...he wants to BE the characters and tried to become them while in Spain. Maybe another reason why we are no longer friends. He wanted me to be Marylou and he wanted to be Jack/Dean. Except that in New York, with the boy back home out of the picture, I still couldn't be his Marylou. Or maybe I was too much like Marylou. Either way, it never works out, does it? I guess I'll find out when I finish.
As I sit here on the beautiful Island of Maui typing this (faster than it will appear on the screen, so it's really tripping me out) I wonder what the next year will bring me. About a week ago a big change happened...which is truthfully terrifying. Something I can't tell a soul in Reno, but will be letting everyone on the East know...I'm sure they will (and are) proud. But it makes me wonder....am I really cut out for my self proclaimed life alone. I always say I'll be the unmarried old lady with the birds, or will spend my life jet-setting, leaving no time for a family or a life, but that little maternal instinct its back. Well, it never left. I thought about it...I could be a singe mom, but how HARD would that be? Especially for the child that I plan on adopting...they're already going to have enough on their plate from the orphanage, but then being taken in by me? God save us all. And I'm quite sick of myself. I don't let any one in because I know that friendships and relationships are fleeting. But that just sucks and it really does put a damper on my brain. Why I don't give myself a chance to be happy is beyond me. That's a lie. It's because I don't want anyone affecting my determination and plans. The future me is telling the current me to forsake happiness love or friendship for the unknown of living life on the edge. Bouncing around from place to place, letting life come to me, and traveling around the world....it's what I want to do, but I already foresee the life of loneliness. I hate saying goodbye, so I try to make it so that I never have to.
I should learn from the past 20 years, but I suppose I never will. My life really is like a movie, and I expect it to stay that way.
I suppose everything will work out, right? I just need to pray a lot. Well, if I pray at all it will be more than I'm doing now. I've really fallen....my friend from high school, Jenna, has myspace now. She was the one person who always kept me on the right path, and now she is totally judging me. I don't really care, but then again, I do. A level of my morality is gone, but I will still be the same[person, good on the inside. I just like to do some...not so good...things. I'm supposed to be an example for the world around me, especially for my cousins, but as I look at them I just wonder if I failed. I was a pretty good kid, but they are younger than I was when I started ANYTHING they are doing. It makes me wonder if I was the reason they are corrupt....it really sucks being the oldest. The full responsibility of their lives falls on my shoulders. Great.
For now, I'm saying c'est la vie and letting my life play out. I have 3 years of school, for my Masters, and so many thing i want to do. I guess whatever will be will be and I just have to wake up and DO IT. I wish that I didn't live in such a fantasy world, but so far, a lot of the things I've dreamed up in my mind have happened, while not always WHEN I wanted them to happen. My life is pretty amazing, it's just a little lonely. I guess loneliness is the price I have to pay. Some day everything will work out, I'm sure of it. Tyler thinks some man is going to completely surprise me, and I sure as hell hope so. It takes a lot to put up with me.,...not even going to try to lie. I'm a piece of work. I am demanding and independent and to match anything that I will throw at you you'd have to be a pretty strong person. Not many people are like that...everyone's a pushover. But I hold my ground and you'd better hold yours. Or else, what's the point? One day someone will match my personality and be able to keep up with me...either that or throw a lasso at me and tie me down. That's probably what I'm asking for. In order for that to happen, I'll have o keep working and trucking forward. I don't want to be tied down, because there's so much LIFE to experience. But what if I'm leaving something behind?? I guess I'll just have to wait and find out.
So, it's Hawaii this week, Reno some of next, Northern California for the rest of next week, Reno, Tahoe, Reno, then back to the big city. I need to buy furniture, but I think I'll keep it minimal...who knows how long I'll need it. I can't wait to see my love bug Ilan as I have much to dish and he has much to dish. he' probably the one person who matches me on travels...New York to Israel, to Madrid (where he saw Bjork!) then Milan...Back to New York some time after me....mhm baby can't wait to see him. We have our differences and we fight, but he (so far) is the one friend who I had a big blow out with and then took back. I actually apologized to him after some tears. His personality is as fierce as mine, but he knows what's best for me and I know what's best for him. I'd marry him if he was my type...and straight. Hehe. Our kids would probably be gorgeous and SUPER exotic. They woud also have impeccable palates. Too bad.
Time to wake up the brother. It's already 9:30 over here off the mainland!! PS: My perpetual jet lag is quite the trip. I travel too much...my body totally hates me. I need some yoga. Toga. :)
♥
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
growing.
I'm back. Back from a 16 day extravaganza of China. Sadly blogspot is censored/blocked in the People's Republic of China as is livejournal and the majority of news articles. Go figure. Live in a Communist nation and not have a clue what's going on in the world. I read the People's Daily, the English speaking news paper, which was about...20 pages long, filled with ads. Reminded me of the Reno Gazette. China's doing this to help the world, it's doing this to reduce carbon emissions, it's taking great leaps and bounds to protect it's people--Bullshit. It isn't doing shit.
My tour of China was one for American tourists. We ate at restaurants filled with white people, eating mandarin food that I would never order in the states. Every meal was at least 13 courses (finished with watermelon) and I'm pretty sure I'm dieting after today. Today I needed a double double with real ketchup, pizza with real pizza sauce, and chicken wings. So good. Anyway, we saw all of the tourist things of China, avoided any part that was "dirty" and all of my questions were avoided.
Makes sense since there are so many undercover communists.
Well, as you may know, the Olympics will be in Beijing in 2008. The birds nest stadium...while it is ugly...is quite innovative. Until you realize how many thousands of people were displaced to God knows where to build it. Oh, and all of the slums of Beijing will be bulldozed by the games. In a city of over 17 million people, how can they POSSIBLY hold the Olympics? And how the fuck can they do this to their people. The shove them into these ghetto ass high rises, elevators not included. You have 80 year olds who now have to learn how to climb stairs. Any gardens are gone, so their already limited (if any) salaries are going to be wasted on food they once grew. A lifetime of memories is swept away with a bulldozer...for what? For a couple thousand tourists to come, desecrate the country, and leave it full of waste and problems? And the water..you have to drink bottled. Think about the number of plastic bottles that will be entering our environment! It disgusts me, it really does. "Civilized" is just a cloak over what is actually happening in that country. I mean, Jesus, the country can't even provide for it's own population. Why the HELL would you want to add more?
Money. Everything's about money.
But, rumor has it they will be lifting their adoption regulations for the influx of tourists into the country. The hotel we stayed at in Beijing was the pick up point for the little girls. So cute. SO cute. I have wanted to adopt a baby girl from China for as long as I can remember...this just made me want one even more. Christ, I'm 20 and I want a child. That's so not normal...but the orphanages...are...awful. Just awful. The innocence the girls are born with leaves with the separation...and don't try to give me any bullshit about them not remembering, because they do. Just talk to them. Well, with the current regulations, you have to be married 5 years and be less than 35. And on the bus we worked it out. I have to be married by at least 30, so I'd have to meet my husband to be in the next ten years. Eight to be safe. And not just meet...that's meet, date, pursue. Blah blah blah blah blah. All of that shit that I have absolutely no time for. I actually have to think about someone other than myself...factor in another person's commitments into my daily life? I don't know about this. Tyler and the boys are convinced I'm going to be taken by complete surprise one day...I'm convinced that I'll end up the lady with the birds (I'm allergic to cats.) Life.
My jetlag is ridiculous. I actually think it's the worst. Our seats from China were incredible--exit row. I got the window, so it was perfect for me to curl up in my little ball...but i wasn't tired. At all. The plane of little asian kids didn't help at all. I got up at the end of the flight to do my routine refreshing (face wash, teeth brush, sometimes makeup (not this time), shave, lotion, clothes change etc.) to make sure I don't smell and four kids SHOVED me out of the way without saying a word and cut in line to the bathroom. I was furious. And the little shit behind me kept kicking my seat. 10 hours of kicking...it's just too much. I watched 2 movies (the last mimzy and lookout) and had wild hogs in the background while I read. Wild hogs played on the way from New York and on the way to China. It's a terrible movie, although people over the age of 40 love it....anyway, I got to America and immediatley got coffee. YUM.
China's Starbucks. Oh. Right. My whole moral stance on not going to Starbucks in a foreign country shattered in Shanghai...I had the headache and i just wanted iced coffee. They don't have the venti size. I wanted to cry. They didn't have the white chocolate mocha my cousin wanted and their frappacino flavour was Red Bean. Um. Hello asia. But well, it was worth it. They actually fill their cups to the top, despite the lack of a Venti. The man working their was named Cocaine. The lady's was Congee (which is boiled rice). The names these Chinese people have is just awful.
I've grown attached to my Chinese name. It's Jun Mei, meaning Beautiful Pearl. Like all Chinese names, it has meaning. The perfect pearl is produced after much hard work and effort, taking risks and risking life. It's sort of become my life motto, and i never actually realized it until I talked to a Chinese lady on the boat about her name which meant Beautiful Rainbow. After the rain, there is the rainbow, a sense of hope during troubles. Way better than Jaimie.
On this trip, I learned a lot about myself, my family, and the world. I found out what my dad was actually doing in China--when he worked for IGT Sydney, he traveled to China a lot, I never knew why. Well, coming here I see it. Gambling is illegal, but it is everywhere. He was attempting to regulate gaming. This was also the beginning of the end of his career at IGT as he began to see how corrupt the people were. They could have succeeded had they not only wanted a personal profit. So they failed as you can't try to have personal gain with a Communist nation. My dad's meetings were top secret--no talking in public, only in the hotel room with the phone debugged and the radio on. My dad's life that I never knew was like the movies.
My family is amazing. My dad is the best brother/son/father in law. He and my mom fought at the beginning, which sucked. But my dad constantly helped his mother and mother in law up and down stairs. When my aunt fell down the stairs in Wuhan, he held her shoulder together as he tried to take her down the rest of the stairs. He then carried her everywhere, up stairs to the planes, around places, etc...sounds simple, but my aunt is bigger than my dad. He's a trooper.
The old man on my trip was racist and his wife a rich whore. She had had too much plastic surgery and complained non stop. He called every asian woman Suzie (even my grandmother) and spoke in Spanish to them. Slap in the face when one said Muy bien, y tu. Fucker. He also said that he goes to every black funeral he can because the more he goes to the less of them there are. The old man, Toby, and his wife, Jean were really named Werner and Eva. We called them Faggot Fuck and Kankle Cunt. They were bad people...inside. I don't know how people can be that way! I just don't see how....
Every white man in China has Yellow Fever. Especially if they speak Chinese. And they're all cute! It's ridiculous. There were a lot of yellow fever white boys. I loved it. I think it's so funny when they speak Chinese...to see a big muscled white guy speaking chinese is sort of hot, not gonna lie.
There are a lot of creeps in China. I've decided I'm just a mutant, which is why they stared and took pictures. My dad almost beat a couple of them up. One for following me around the Terracotta soldiers taking pictures of me, another for stalking me on the boat. My dad got a lot of looks from the asian ladies. A white guy speaking english. WHAT?! Yea....
I did learn a bit of Chinese. There are key phrases I did not know though (at least in Mandarin)--our Cantonese was useless there. But the day I ordered bubble tea with no milk and she understood me was one of my best days ever. Zheng Zhu Nai Cha, bu yao nai. Bing. Bing! :)
Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Hao.
My cousin and brother were convinced our tour guide wanted to rape me. He only acknowledged my presence, never theirs, and constantly asked how I was. When I hugge him good bye, he said OH WOWWWWWWWW. But it sounded like Ooohhh Waaaaaooooow! It's hard to type out. his accent was funny. he was strange.
Altogether China was great. It was a family trip, and probably my last. When my mom and dad started talking about taking trips together I finally turned to them and said, I'm not invited any more, am I. It makes me really sad to think about...we've traveled all over the world together. But my parents are getting old. As much as I hate to admit it...they aren't invincible. A HUGE eye opener was when I outhiked my dad up the Great Wall of China. For the first time in my life, I had more energy. When I saw how tired he was when I pushed him to go to the top of the Wall, I realized that he no longer had the same fire within him. All of the long days at the office, battles with the IRS, battles with IGT, battles with IGo, battles with the French and American government, battles with the gypsies, battles with a man who disappeared with all of his money in France...since I left to college, he's gotten old. Really, really old. And it's probably the saddest thing. I feel so guilty, leaving him to deal with all of this, to pay for my college, to deal with all of my little stupid bullshit problems. It actually is bringing a flood of tears to my eyes. Maybe it's the lack of sleep. But he's always there for my petty shit. It's time to get my shit together.
I love my family. I miss my family. But I am no longer part of this foursome. They keep pushing me to find someone, to get my life in order, to start a life because they want to be around to see every aspect of it. That just depresses me even more, because I am still too selfish to let it happen. After my aunt fell and we continued the tour of Wuhan, we saw this statue. There are tons of them as China is filled with symbolism, but this was different. It's the body of the dragon, with the head of a unicorn, a baby one intertwined. The creature doesn't have an anus. It symbolizes taking everything in as a dragon would and experiencing all of the magic, but never letting anything out. She said it's the motto of businessmen. It's the motto of my life. I spend so much of my life building up this shield, not letting anything out, not letting myself feel anything, but absorbing everyone else's feelings emotions pain...I am there for everyone, but won't let anyone near me. It scared me. A lot.
I wish I could be more carefree, but the life I have had prevents that. Sure, I can blame my parents, but it has also led me to my independence and desire to give. Catch-22. Give happiness to others without letting yourself experience it.
When I talked to tour guides and Cindy and Bill, the couple from Florida who met 4 years ago on match.com (still honeymooners, so cute), I realized that I don't know if I'll end up in Africa or India or South America or even China, but I'm needed. John, the guide, said that I would be so helpful in China. Take some classes, learn the language...and I saw it. They do need help. The world needs help. I can't wait.
Maybe someday I'll end up like the asian couple behind us in Shanghai. They were so cute. They fed each other carrots with toothpicks, helped each other wheel the bags, and tried to figure out what was going on without speaking a word of English. With my more than limited chinese I attempted using gestures and nods and shehsheh's to help them out. They showed their gratitude by speaking chinese, even though they knew I didn't understand it, and waving. They would come up to the area we were sitting (emergency exit) and talk to us. In Chinese. Pointing, smiling all the while. We helped them figure out how to open the door to the bathroom, fill out the customs forms, and they just smiled, spoke and waved. The old man came and did his exercises as all elderly chinese do in the morning. Getting off the plane, the look they gave me was worth more than anything. The gratitude at the mere attempt to help them...and then further when the frustrated American customs officers couldn't explain to them where to go and I guided them. They were amazing people. Truly inspirational.
Life's journey's. You never realize how much you actually grow up with every new place, every new adventure. I went from acting 20 years old being 20 years old. I change as a person, I see others changing, and I catch brief glimpses of a future so unknown to me, it terrifies me. But somehow I know I'll be ok.
My tour of China was one for American tourists. We ate at restaurants filled with white people, eating mandarin food that I would never order in the states. Every meal was at least 13 courses (finished with watermelon) and I'm pretty sure I'm dieting after today. Today I needed a double double with real ketchup, pizza with real pizza sauce, and chicken wings. So good. Anyway, we saw all of the tourist things of China, avoided any part that was "dirty" and all of my questions were avoided.
Makes sense since there are so many undercover communists.
Well, as you may know, the Olympics will be in Beijing in 2008. The birds nest stadium...while it is ugly...is quite innovative. Until you realize how many thousands of people were displaced to God knows where to build it. Oh, and all of the slums of Beijing will be bulldozed by the games. In a city of over 17 million people, how can they POSSIBLY hold the Olympics? And how the fuck can they do this to their people. The shove them into these ghetto ass high rises, elevators not included. You have 80 year olds who now have to learn how to climb stairs. Any gardens are gone, so their already limited (if any) salaries are going to be wasted on food they once grew. A lifetime of memories is swept away with a bulldozer...for what? For a couple thousand tourists to come, desecrate the country, and leave it full of waste and problems? And the water..you have to drink bottled. Think about the number of plastic bottles that will be entering our environment! It disgusts me, it really does. "Civilized" is just a cloak over what is actually happening in that country. I mean, Jesus, the country can't even provide for it's own population. Why the HELL would you want to add more?
Money. Everything's about money.
But, rumor has it they will be lifting their adoption regulations for the influx of tourists into the country. The hotel we stayed at in Beijing was the pick up point for the little girls. So cute. SO cute. I have wanted to adopt a baby girl from China for as long as I can remember...this just made me want one even more. Christ, I'm 20 and I want a child. That's so not normal...but the orphanages...are...awful. Just awful. The innocence the girls are born with leaves with the separation...and don't try to give me any bullshit about them not remembering, because they do. Just talk to them. Well, with the current regulations, you have to be married 5 years and be less than 35. And on the bus we worked it out. I have to be married by at least 30, so I'd have to meet my husband to be in the next ten years. Eight to be safe. And not just meet...that's meet, date, pursue. Blah blah blah blah blah. All of that shit that I have absolutely no time for. I actually have to think about someone other than myself...factor in another person's commitments into my daily life? I don't know about this. Tyler and the boys are convinced I'm going to be taken by complete surprise one day...I'm convinced that I'll end up the lady with the birds (I'm allergic to cats.) Life.
My jetlag is ridiculous. I actually think it's the worst. Our seats from China were incredible--exit row. I got the window, so it was perfect for me to curl up in my little ball...but i wasn't tired. At all. The plane of little asian kids didn't help at all. I got up at the end of the flight to do my routine refreshing (face wash, teeth brush, sometimes makeup (not this time), shave, lotion, clothes change etc.) to make sure I don't smell and four kids SHOVED me out of the way without saying a word and cut in line to the bathroom. I was furious. And the little shit behind me kept kicking my seat. 10 hours of kicking...it's just too much. I watched 2 movies (the last mimzy and lookout) and had wild hogs in the background while I read. Wild hogs played on the way from New York and on the way to China. It's a terrible movie, although people over the age of 40 love it....anyway, I got to America and immediatley got coffee. YUM.
China's Starbucks. Oh. Right. My whole moral stance on not going to Starbucks in a foreign country shattered in Shanghai...I had the headache and i just wanted iced coffee. They don't have the venti size. I wanted to cry. They didn't have the white chocolate mocha my cousin wanted and their frappacino flavour was Red Bean. Um. Hello asia. But well, it was worth it. They actually fill their cups to the top, despite the lack of a Venti. The man working their was named Cocaine. The lady's was Congee (which is boiled rice). The names these Chinese people have is just awful.
I've grown attached to my Chinese name. It's Jun Mei, meaning Beautiful Pearl. Like all Chinese names, it has meaning. The perfect pearl is produced after much hard work and effort, taking risks and risking life. It's sort of become my life motto, and i never actually realized it until I talked to a Chinese lady on the boat about her name which meant Beautiful Rainbow. After the rain, there is the rainbow, a sense of hope during troubles. Way better than Jaimie.
On this trip, I learned a lot about myself, my family, and the world. I found out what my dad was actually doing in China--when he worked for IGT Sydney, he traveled to China a lot, I never knew why. Well, coming here I see it. Gambling is illegal, but it is everywhere. He was attempting to regulate gaming. This was also the beginning of the end of his career at IGT as he began to see how corrupt the people were. They could have succeeded had they not only wanted a personal profit. So they failed as you can't try to have personal gain with a Communist nation. My dad's meetings were top secret--no talking in public, only in the hotel room with the phone debugged and the radio on. My dad's life that I never knew was like the movies.
My family is amazing. My dad is the best brother/son/father in law. He and my mom fought at the beginning, which sucked. But my dad constantly helped his mother and mother in law up and down stairs. When my aunt fell down the stairs in Wuhan, he held her shoulder together as he tried to take her down the rest of the stairs. He then carried her everywhere, up stairs to the planes, around places, etc...sounds simple, but my aunt is bigger than my dad. He's a trooper.
The old man on my trip was racist and his wife a rich whore. She had had too much plastic surgery and complained non stop. He called every asian woman Suzie (even my grandmother) and spoke in Spanish to them. Slap in the face when one said Muy bien, y tu. Fucker. He also said that he goes to every black funeral he can because the more he goes to the less of them there are. The old man, Toby, and his wife, Jean were really named Werner and Eva. We called them Faggot Fuck and Kankle Cunt. They were bad people...inside. I don't know how people can be that way! I just don't see how....
Every white man in China has Yellow Fever. Especially if they speak Chinese. And they're all cute! It's ridiculous. There were a lot of yellow fever white boys. I loved it. I think it's so funny when they speak Chinese...to see a big muscled white guy speaking chinese is sort of hot, not gonna lie.
There are a lot of creeps in China. I've decided I'm just a mutant, which is why they stared and took pictures. My dad almost beat a couple of them up. One for following me around the Terracotta soldiers taking pictures of me, another for stalking me on the boat. My dad got a lot of looks from the asian ladies. A white guy speaking english. WHAT?! Yea....
I did learn a bit of Chinese. There are key phrases I did not know though (at least in Mandarin)--our Cantonese was useless there. But the day I ordered bubble tea with no milk and she understood me was one of my best days ever. Zheng Zhu Nai Cha, bu yao nai. Bing. Bing! :)
Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Ding Hao.
My cousin and brother were convinced our tour guide wanted to rape me. He only acknowledged my presence, never theirs, and constantly asked how I was. When I hugge him good bye, he said OH WOWWWWWWWW. But it sounded like Ooohhh Waaaaaooooow! It's hard to type out. his accent was funny. he was strange.
Altogether China was great. It was a family trip, and probably my last. When my mom and dad started talking about taking trips together I finally turned to them and said, I'm not invited any more, am I. It makes me really sad to think about...we've traveled all over the world together. But my parents are getting old. As much as I hate to admit it...they aren't invincible. A HUGE eye opener was when I outhiked my dad up the Great Wall of China. For the first time in my life, I had more energy. When I saw how tired he was when I pushed him to go to the top of the Wall, I realized that he no longer had the same fire within him. All of the long days at the office, battles with the IRS, battles with IGT, battles with IGo, battles with the French and American government, battles with the gypsies, battles with a man who disappeared with all of his money in France...since I left to college, he's gotten old. Really, really old. And it's probably the saddest thing. I feel so guilty, leaving him to deal with all of this, to pay for my college, to deal with all of my little stupid bullshit problems. It actually is bringing a flood of tears to my eyes. Maybe it's the lack of sleep. But he's always there for my petty shit. It's time to get my shit together.
I love my family. I miss my family. But I am no longer part of this foursome. They keep pushing me to find someone, to get my life in order, to start a life because they want to be around to see every aspect of it. That just depresses me even more, because I am still too selfish to let it happen. After my aunt fell and we continued the tour of Wuhan, we saw this statue. There are tons of them as China is filled with symbolism, but this was different. It's the body of the dragon, with the head of a unicorn, a baby one intertwined. The creature doesn't have an anus. It symbolizes taking everything in as a dragon would and experiencing all of the magic, but never letting anything out. She said it's the motto of businessmen. It's the motto of my life. I spend so much of my life building up this shield, not letting anything out, not letting myself feel anything, but absorbing everyone else's feelings emotions pain...I am there for everyone, but won't let anyone near me. It scared me. A lot.
I wish I could be more carefree, but the life I have had prevents that. Sure, I can blame my parents, but it has also led me to my independence and desire to give. Catch-22. Give happiness to others without letting yourself experience it.
When I talked to tour guides and Cindy and Bill, the couple from Florida who met 4 years ago on match.com (still honeymooners, so cute), I realized that I don't know if I'll end up in Africa or India or South America or even China, but I'm needed. John, the guide, said that I would be so helpful in China. Take some classes, learn the language...and I saw it. They do need help. The world needs help. I can't wait.
Maybe someday I'll end up like the asian couple behind us in Shanghai. They were so cute. They fed each other carrots with toothpicks, helped each other wheel the bags, and tried to figure out what was going on without speaking a word of English. With my more than limited chinese I attempted using gestures and nods and shehsheh's to help them out. They showed their gratitude by speaking chinese, even though they knew I didn't understand it, and waving. They would come up to the area we were sitting (emergency exit) and talk to us. In Chinese. Pointing, smiling all the while. We helped them figure out how to open the door to the bathroom, fill out the customs forms, and they just smiled, spoke and waved. The old man came and did his exercises as all elderly chinese do in the morning. Getting off the plane, the look they gave me was worth more than anything. The gratitude at the mere attempt to help them...and then further when the frustrated American customs officers couldn't explain to them where to go and I guided them. They were amazing people. Truly inspirational.
Life's journey's. You never realize how much you actually grow up with every new place, every new adventure. I went from acting 20 years old being 20 years old. I change as a person, I see others changing, and I catch brief glimpses of a future so unknown to me, it terrifies me. But somehow I know I'll be ok.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Accident #1-SF Airport
Well, just at the beginning of our journey we have our first hiccup. Our non-relatives that are in our travel group had the first injury--falling down the escalator. All of the sudden all fo the people from the Chicago flight had to walk up the stairs and as I rush over to see what happens I just see blood. The elderly couple fell backwards down the up escalator. It looks like a tiger gashed his arm, leg and back. The police/first aide were quite nice though.
They were up-graded to first class, bandaged up, and boarded the plane.
I feel like they should have gone to the hospital...I guess we'll see.
And my dad just hit his thumb. So he's pretty grumpy.
Hasta China!!
They were up-graded to first class, bandaged up, and boarded the plane.
I feel like they should have gone to the hospital...I guess we'll see.
And my dad just hit his thumb. So he's pretty grumpy.
Hasta China!!
Monday, June 25, 2007
China!
Heading to China tomorrow bright and early (West Coast time.) I can't wait to explore Asia and all of the food that awaits me. Woo hoo!
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