2008

(So I'm clearly going through my old drafts of posts I started but didn't finish or publish because they were crap and nothing came of them. And now I'm publishing them. You can thank me later.)

Favorite thing: MacBook, I love you.
Favorite song: Crash This Train (Acoustic) - Joshua James or You've Got Growing Up To Do (feat. Patty Griffin) - Joshua Radin or Keep the Car Running - Arcade Fire
Favorite evening: handing out Halloween candy with my sister
Favorite time: we had an actual autumn this year
Favorite meal: Teddy's Bigger Burgers on Oahu, slight breeze, warm sun, tan skin, dry bathing suit, friend sitting across from me
Favorite accomplishment: Dale Car.negie class
Most fun: MIKA concerts in Philly & NYC
Favorite sound: cutest nephew in his Halloween costume saying RAWR!
Most relaxed: outdoor James Taylor concert at Tanglewood on July 4th, Yo-Yo Ma playing on "Sweet Baby James"
Most thankful: having my gallbladder attack while living in the States and not on a military base in Japan
Best book: My Favourite Wife by Tony Parsons 
Favorite Twitter: Dooce, "Headed to Labor Day lunch with my Republican family. Told Jon I would fucking deck him if he so much as whispered the word Palin."

Favorite post:

• Caveat Emptor, Nov. 5th, "One for the Fools" or 
• Joe.My.God., Nov. 4th, "I'm Godless and I Approve This Message" or 
• LifeSerial, Aug. 22nd, "Missed Connection" (the post has been deleted, but Matthew gave me permission to post the text below; seriously - he is so awesome)
• Mom-o-Matic, Nov. 6th, "Feeling Poorly" or
• NoFo, Dec. 17th, "This is Going to Freak Your Shit OUT" or
• Blogography, Nov. 19th, "Replacement" or
• Mishaps, Mayhem and Merriment, every single post not having to do with March Madness (is that okay to say?)

Missed Connection

Dear Very Attractive Man, With Beard, Reading 'Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close' Outside Peet's Coffee On Sunset Boulevard This Morning, 

That is a very good book. 

Love, 

The Semi-Attractive Geek You Didn't Even Look At As He Walked By Fondling You With His Eyes

You Fell and Didn't Cry

Omg, sorry. I had to. "You are furry, proud, and red." Plus, those Goo Babies are from Godforsaken Buffalo, and Johnny is cute. Pride! 

(I shouldn't be allowed to use the Internet.)

In the Margins of My Eastern Europe Guidebook

• This time: 4 pr. pants, 4 shirts, 1 sweater. Next time: 3 pr. pants (for a 2-week trip)


• Pension Nossek in Vienna - room 1, thin walls like everywhere, 8 Euro laundry by pension, very clean, rude as hell


• Call brother on 11/14 (his birthday)


• Krakow train station - Tourist Information office by tracks 3/4 - clean, kind, Internet, English speaking


• Nuss strudel - YUM!


• Korowod - 14:45, 19:15, 21:15 (a movie I saw in Krakow)


• Evelyn Ginsberg, 76 - how old are you, have you ever been married, of course not, you're too smart (a lady from NYC that I met in Krakow)


• Buy Chuck Taylors when I get home


• In Vienna get batteries, contact solution, chocolate, a big bag

(Having serious wanderlust again and looking through my old Rick Steves books.)

Insomnia

I have a huge, raging headache tonight. I guess because I've been reading a lot today and I left my reading specs at work. I almost feel hung over, I feel so rotten.

Life expectancy for a woman living in the US is currently 80.05 years. This week I've decided that I need to figure out what I'm going to do with my remaining 42.15 years (zod willing) immediately. Last night I laid in bed getting more and more anxious until around 2:00 am when I reached complete panic. I thought of my options - phone a friend, 50/50, ask the audience. I was alone, so the last one wouldn't work. I almost called my DC friend who would have liked nothing more than me hyperventilating on the other end of the line at 2am on a work night. I thought of getting up to watch television. I could have turned on the light and continued reading that damn book about Columbine. (Probably the source of some of the anxiety.) Thankfully I decided to roll over and go to sleep. Frick.

Tonight the feeling is back, although to a smaller degree. (Give me a few hours.) I feel on edge; I'm about to hike the cat through the window. His purr sounds like an airplane taking off. I'm grinding my teeth and clenching my jaw. What the hell is going on? Where is this pressure coming from? I feel lonely right now. I'm afraid of my future, of doing the wrong thing, of being alone forever. I'm afraid of being unhappy, and it's making me unhappy. The economy and the possible job loss are taking a serious toll, I can tell. I just feel afraid that I'm not going to make it. I'm taking it all pretty hard this week. Jesus, I need to stop listening to The Weepies.

I have another massage tomorrow. I know. It's with my usual girl, who, if I can get her to keep her trap shut, is really quite wonderful. I love to get the rub down in total silence and just use the time to meditate on feeling inner peace. Om.

Once in a Lifetime

I feel like there's been a real dearth of news and blog postings about the inauguration, so I thought I'd write about my time in DC.  

Isn't it crazy that the asshat is out of the White House? It was amazing to be in DC for the past week. I stayed with a great friend who lives right in town and we hung out and ate and laughed for five days. God, I miss living in a city that has normal things like cupcake stores and a subway. 

We went down for the end of the concert on Sunday - god, it was amazing hearing Bono's voice, and then hearing Obama's voice threw us into a frenzy of excitement. All the crazy feelings and the intense energy that you would imagine was exactly what I felt. I went back downtown alone for the inauguration and ended up getting stuck in a crowd (imagine that) by the purple gate. I was three inches away from the cannons for the 21-gun salute - that was loud - and basically couldn't see anything or hear much at all. I eventually went back to Union Station to figure out what was going on, and caught Obama's speech on a radio with a bunch of people gathered around. It was incredibly touching, lots of tears, and strangely it felt great to be with a small group to experience that moment versus being one of two million across the street. All of Union Station cheered when it was done - a wonderful sound. And then it was just dealing with the DCPD shutting down the Metro due to overcrowding and trying to get the hell out of there. No easy task. 

It's hard to believe we have a President who appears to be competent and isn't a complete embarrassment. If I had a dime for every time I was asked about Mr. Bush when traveling in a foreign country, well, I'd probably have about $3.00. But that's a lot of questions, and they were all along the lines of, "Your President loves war, doesn't he?" Always derogatory, always embarrassing, always me trying to say something to put distance between the most well-known and hated American, and the one standing in front of them. No more.

Yesterday on the Metro on the way to National Airport (wow, that was a clusterfuck) to come home, I was wondering when I became such a country bumpkin because I was truly so excited and impressed with myself to be finding my way around. I was listening to my iPod and loving life, feeling very metropolitan and everything, and suddenly I looked up and the doors were closing on my stop. Bummer. I changed plans (because I can do that) and decided to transfer at the next station instead. So I transferred, but got on the wrong train - orange, blue, it's very confusing. I finally just got off the train a few stops later, found myself mysteriously in Virginia, called my friend, regrouped, and made it to the airport without a second to spare. Hello.

It's always great to get home after a trip and sleep in your own bed and do laundry and snuggle your kitty and kiss your Mac, isn't it? My Flickr photos are here.

I'm the One in the Black Hat

I'm in Washington for the inauguration and having a great time. I'm staying with a friend who lives right in D.C. and loving all the activities. We went to the concert on the Mall yesterday - what a zoo. As we were walking back to the Metro afterwards along a chain link fence, both pondering what it would be like if our 750,000 friends decided to smoosh us up against the fence, I said to him, "What if I had an anxiety attack right this second?" He said, "Go ahead, I don't think there's anything we can do." So true. It's hard to have a frame of reference for what it's like to be in a crowd that size. Unnerving, really. And, of course, it was just a test-run for Tuesday. Yipes.

It's so fun to be in a big city, and we're shopping and eating great food (Chipotle, I love you), and just enjoying the vibe. While you watch the coverage tomorrow, look for me! I'll wave!

(Jk about the black hat thing.)

Untouched

I had a massage tonight. It was a holiday gift from my employees, and it was at a place I hadn't been to before. The massage ended up being just okay, but even a mediocre massage is better than just about anything else on earth, in my opinion. I'm all greased up now and ready to take my silky self to bed.

My massage therapist was about 22 and weighed every bit of 98 pounds. When she started the massage she told me to feel free to comment on the amount of pressure she was applying, and I almost immediately had to ask her to press harder. She did. A smidgen. And as she slowly worked her way around my body - left leg, right leg, back, shoulders, arms, neck - I had the sense that she knew the motions but was performing them without passion or depth. Then I started thinking about being 22 and wondering if your soul is even fully formed at that age. Maybe she didn't have the ability to connect with me in the way someone who has carried around a body for at least 37 years and knows what it needs would have.

I thought, she has no idea the distances and the terrain my feet have walked. She couldn't possibly understand all the cares and concerns that my shoulders have carried. She could never handle all the intense beauty and devastating sadness my eyes have seen. She doesn't know the worries my hands have wrung out. She has no idea about the years that have worn away at my straight back or the letters my fingers have typed, or the friends my arms have held. I thought at one point - if she knew that my ears have heard the perfect perfection that is the the laugh of my nephew, she would touch them differently. She would have to.

So she rubbed me this way and that, and it felt okay, but never really reached the layers beneath my skin, which is always why I go. Again, I'll take it. But I was hoping for more.

High / Low

Today

2° | -10°

Friday

7° | -6°

Saturday

7° | 4°

Sunday

20° | 9°

Monday

18° | 7°

Most Wonderful Time of the Year

I walked out of therapy on Monday with my winter coat buttoned to the wrong buttons. Like the top button on the left side was attached to the button hole one down on the right side. And so on. Few things can make you look like a sad sack as much as zipping around completely unaware that your buttons and holes don't match up. It's like you're trying to put on this great show of being perfectly together and the whole world knows you're uneven.

I found this wonderful birthday card that says: "May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into the clouds above." Isn't that wonderful? 

It's employee eval time again. I'm sleeping, eating, living evals. I hate them. But it's the only thing that matters, 24/7, until Thursday night, when I will be getting a massage to celebrate the end of review season.

Riding on the Merry-go-Round

I wore my boots to work this morning, and then put them on again to run an errand at lunch, and again to come home. It's crazy - I know that adults wear boots, but I haven't worn them since I was small and needed moon boots to walk to school in the snow in Central Washington. Wearing them now makes me feel like I'm eight years old.

I've been in constant mental conflict lately. It's exhausting. The idea was that I would be a banker and make enough money not following my bliss that I could do what I really want - like volunteer and travel the world - in my free time. And up until recently it's worked out extremely well. But work lately is such a complete f-ing drain that I'm not doing anything in my free time except falling asleep on the couch in front of reruns of Scrubs. And it's not the normal hum-drums, as my sister would say. I feel like my head is in a vice that is constantly being tightened. The economy is really getting to me. I have a good job with a decent salary, and I am just getting by. My heating bill was $260 last month, so I turned the heat down even further. (It was already really, really low.) I don't know, it's getting to me. This isn't living.

Every meeting I've been in this week I find myself drifting off thinking about life. Real life. I've always enjoyed banking and felt like I was able to make a contribution that was meaningful to me. I think that's still possible in some capacity, but I don't know if it is in my current position. I won't write about work in particular here, but I'll just say that I feel totally caught up in the stress of pending layoffs* and the meaningless of the day-to-day. 

Not traveling lately is really getting to me. I was listening to a favorite mixed CD on the way to work this morning and Angels and Airwaves Everything's Magic came on. Torture. I listened to this song everyday in Europe during my last trip and almost came out of my seat with excitement during the beginning of the song. I have the strongest positive associations with it. Hearing it again was a quick high and then a grouchy low, and a memory of a time when I felt really alive.

I don't know if I'm quickly becoming finished with upstate NY, or if I just need a strong drink, but I'm not having fun. I'm broke and chained to my job and a little lonely and over the routine I have. 

And yet I do get caught up in the comfort of my house and my tiny little village. I love spending time at home. I love curling up on the couch with the animal and a book or ten and listening to the familiar noises. I really do. But something isn't working lately. 

So I'm sitting in meetings everyday and you can cut the tension with a knife, and everything is serious as a heart attack, and people are raising their voices, and I'm thinking - I will kill myself if I'm doing this in five years. And I don't really mean banking or business or attending meetings. I don't really know what I mean. But it has something to do with taking shit seriously that is really meaningless, and living in this cycle of receiving my paycheck so I can pay my bills so I can heat my house so I can live comfortably (if not a bit chilly) so I can go to work and get my paycheck. And to add insult to injury, I think I'm finally old enough for this to be an official midlife crisis. 

*It's probably the pending goddamn layoffs. That is some stressful shit.

By The Way

I found this travel review of Paris online and fell in love with it. I personally enjoy Paris, but this guy had other thoughts:

If the smell of urine and sewage is your idea of romance, Paris is the city for you. Paris was the most filthy, disgusting place I've ever had the misfortune to visit. It is difficult to be romantic when the streets and the air are filled with urine and sewage. It is even more difficult to keep up one's spirits by the horrendous service one receives in the restaurants and hotels. The restaurants are unclean. The floors look horribly unwashed, and flies swarm in abundance. Their concept of nonsmoking is to remove the ashtray from your table, although your waiter may smoke while serving you. In general, Paris is a Third World country masquerading as a civilized society. The Louvre is highly overrated. By the way, you can smell the Notre Dame Cathedral before you can see it.

So anyway, I'm in love. How can you resist someone who can articulate like this? The passion! I adore it. But I hope this guy stays home in Charlotte or Utica or wherever he's from. I've met folks like him when I've traveled, and we're all better for it if they just stay put.

New

Akemashita omedetou gozaimasu! The kids, ten or fifteen of them at least, used to pound on my door early on January 1st and yell this at me in unison when I finally answered. It was hard to distinguish it from the other jumble of Japanese phrases they spoke to me (without taking a breath, the entire time we were together), but I quickly noticed a pattern. Every person I came in contact with used the same phrase. It's the Japanese new year greeting and is said before any other words the first time you see someone in the new year. 

Last night I had a fun dinner out with my sister and BIL and then went to see the movie Slumdog Millionaire for the second time in a week. It's not a perfect movie, but there's something about it that totally draws me in. I know I'll see it again. I wonder if it will propel me to Mumbai at some point sooner than later. And the credits! Oh, the credits. 

I love the process of reflecting on the previous year and making resolutions for the one to come. I'm thinking about joining a Flickr 365 day pool where you post one photo each day for a year. That sounds like it would help me see the world with new eyes. I've been reworking my 43 Things list lately to keep it current and utilize it more. I've been trying all kinds of new music lately with fun results. Best find so far: Arcade Fire. I'm starting this year about 30 pounds lighter than when I started the last one. I hope I can say that again next year. I have one less organ than I did last year. I've officially been in my current rental for 2 years now. I haven't lived in one place that long since my condo in Portland (exactly 2 years) and before that, it was the apartment I had after college 16 years ago. I'm connected with all of my friends in meaningful ways. My family is healthy, my 1 1/2-year old nephew is beautiful and happy (and mysteriously speaking with a British accent.) 

This is weird: when I think about writing more, I generally decide against it because there are so many people who can do so much better than I can. Nothing kills my desire to write like reading a great book or a really expressive blog entry. And when I think of taking pictures, I feel like there's no great urgency because there are so many incredible photos that are such a pleasure to look at. Going through those always gives me that feeling of being full (but not too full) from my favorite meal. Like I've had enough and there's no reason to have anymore. I hate to let it stop me. I guess there's enough room for all kinds of expression. 

When I lost my religion about 19 years ago, I decided I wasn't ever again going to do anything I didn't want to. That can be taken a lot of different ways, and I don't mean it in the most juvenile of interpretations, but it's pretty much remained true of my life. It feels good. No regrets, I suppose. Or very few. 

2009 holds good things for us, I know it.