Untitled 7/28/13

July 28, 2013
And it’s just how it goes sometimes
And you don’t pay attention to those things that are obvious
Instead excusing them for better placed momentary distractions
Until the distractions subside and all you’re left with are the holes you glossed over to begin with
And instead of being tiny and easily forgotten
They are huge, bleeding and sore
Every move hurts, every step feels wrong
To go, to stay, it hurts either way
So you throw everything into the next time it feels right
Figure you’ll ride out this storm and hope you see the light
But somewhere inside you know it’s another sweet lie tonight

When you came around, I knew I wanted to be alone
After awhile though, I couldn’t deny you and couldn’t walk away
I had to see it through
Now here we are after all these years and it feels painfully pointless
I don’t know how to work with what’s left of something that probably wasn’t to begin with
I can’t be the only one hurting, caring, waiting, molding this thing like a child
Wishing, hoping, so blissfully naïve
Thought I was done with picket fences and teenage love affairs
Convinced myself it was so
Hell I even let the love of my life go
So why in the hell am I standing here, hurting over you, while we’re still together, and you couldn’t give a damn less
The only time you’d care is if you came home to find me gone, yet even then, you’d just go back to work, start your next day like I never even came
3500 miles and what would you change if you could

And I can’t keep making excuses for something inexcusable
Your indifference is tearing us apart
I came all this way for you, just to find the truth you told me when I first landed
A self-fulfilling prophecy wracked with rage
I could throw something out the window, scream, cry, make a mess
Try to force you to listen to my heart
But heavy words don’t fly if there aren’t ears to land on
How can you not know that I hurt, that I’m just dying for you
And maybe that’s the worst of it
Maybe the hopeless romantics are only such because they latch on to indifferent bastards
And I guess I wouldn’t trade it, because I’d rather be this than try to be different, begging for scraps from you then, not even myself
When the person I was, wanted to be, used to be, might be are nothing close to who I am right now
I feel like I’ve been stripped down to the bloody quick
Raw, heaving, and ugly
Growing callous to survive

The world was dark and heavy, heaving in solitude
No one’s touching anything, anyone anymore
So float in space, lift up the stratosphere and slide into the glittering abyss
Don’t let it drag you down, don’t admit it’s real
I’m filled with such vitriol, sadness
I don’t fit in with anyone anymore
Sometimes dream of floating away
Feel afraid to
Don’t know what to do
Can’t talk to people
Tired of trying to explain my madness

Words canvass lips, madness ensues
Misunderstandings abound, despite well intentioned explanations
One tires from endless rebuttals, unending struggles
The night sky opens like a canyon, pulling us up, up, up
There’s no regrets in this place now
Only ghosts and comforting cold
Take me somewhere dark where the zombies won’t want to go
Stab my heart with the reprieve of sweet freedom
Lonely is welcome, strangely satisfactory and grand
When I sing now, my lungs fill the stars with gold
I don’t have to describe my pain because you can see it
Don’t speak, it’s all here for us now
A breath taken, sucking nonexistent air, but the quiet makes it all OK
No more feeling the wretched complications of failure and exact heartbreak
Instead the loveliness of ultimate desolation and disregard
With it comes boredom punctuated by a strangely lucid state of awe
Once you arrive, you know you were always here
Time to fly

Meh. Fuck.

It is so goddamn humid here.  I pull off my hobo glove-sleeved henley and toss it aside, feeling the cold canned air of the a/c rush across my clammy skin.  It’s the last day of November and I’m sweating.  Whomever decided that the definition of paradise should include humidity was completely unhinged.

My stomach hurts but neither food nor drink sound inviting.  The night is quiet outside, the only noises traffic and the occasional drunken rambling tourist shouting into the night as if no one’s listening, or as if everyone’s listening.  I used to belong.  I used to want to.

I scratched the top off of a bug bite; inadvertently, yet the relief is palpable.  Blood seeped out; I half-heartedly tried to stop the bleeding with a paper towel, but gave up.

There’s nothing here for me now, but then again, perhaps there never was.  My man is away, on permanent hiatus from the life I planned for us.  He’s okay with it and I suppose I am too or I wouldn’t be here.  My days are punctuated by the job, the meandering endlessness of bored tedium grappling with the soul sucking violence of retail.  Once I’m home it’s the proverbial homemaking duties, most of which strangely satiate me.  I’ve stopped wondering if my embracing of these is programmed or if I actually enjoy it.  It provides a disturbance in the monotony.  Cooking and cleaning are worthwhile adversaries.  Plus it gives me something to bitch about when there’s nothing else in my spoiled rotten existence worth bellyaching about.

Part of me loves the silence.  Loves having a man who’s gone a lot.  A man not afraid to pursue his dream at any cost.  Being in the presence of true passion and creativity is moving.  There are days I want out.  Days I wish I hadn’t come because I’m afraid he’s just going to break my heart.  But no matter what, it’s all worth it.  The pain, the loneliness, the cleaning.  I would rather suffer here in bored tedium than ever go back where I came from.

The job has become increasingly difficult due to my dissipating ability to swallow steaming hot piles of rancid, acrid, hair covered, pus-filled excrement, and smile while I do so.  I no longer desire to have imbeciles tell me how to do my job, no matter how menial.  I no longer desire to be admonished like a dog by my boss in front of customers.  I no longer wish to see my coworkers picked off, fired one by one in secret moves by management, for bullshit reasons.  I thought I could vent with my remaining coworkers.  Unlike them, I wasn’t able to simply vent and let it go.  I’m holding on for dear life to the hatred I possess for that place because it’s the only thing that will get me out of there in one piece.  I’m learning how to be comfortable with being disingenuous.  I will plaster a smile on and forge my own signature on my continued torment until I find something else.  But every waking moment in that place results in a little less goodness in my heart.  Some part of me is more than OK with that.  I have made a bed of depression and I wish to lie in it cozily until I see a moment fit to declare it uninhabitable.  Until then, I won’t keep trying to explain my reasons to everyone else.  They don’t get it, they don’t care, and frankly, my biggest mistake was caring that they did.

I know that I’m good.  I’m actually quite fabulous at a few things.  I don’t belong in this life I’m living and it’s high time I put some real time into figuring out what it is I’m truly meant to be doing.  Not meant to be doing like those facetious asshats I graduated with who think that parenting is the highest calling.  No sirreebob.  I desire nothing of the sort.  I could scarcely imagine a more torturous sentence.  I’m talking about the things that erode my soul, that breathe life into my lungs.  The things that up until this point have kept me from offing myself.  There is no pain in being the center of the party.  So I used to think if I occupied that space well, I’d make it; I’d be okay.  Now I know I won’t be okay and that is okay.

Our first real vacation in three years together is a week away.  I thought I’d be more excited.  I was at first.  Now I’m dreading it.  It turns out the best part of a vacation is the anticipation.  Once it gets here, it goes by too fast, and you’re suddenly thrust back into the shitty life you left behind, with nothing but pictures to remind you how much fun you got to temporarily enjoy.  I already loathe coming back here, mostly because of the weather, and we haven’t even left yet.  Soon it will be back to the trenches.  I suppose I’m inadvertently beating it to the punch by not feeling better about this right now.  I”m okay with that for now, too.

I sing.  I sing really fucking well.  It’s the only thing, besides writing, that makes me feel anything tangible, aside from the doldrums of daily rage, mood swings, panic, anxiety, depression, et cetera.  But I have no real outlet besides belting in front of my cats.  Truth is, I’m not miserable all of the time.  Just when I have to be accountable to people for the fact that I’m miserable around them.

It’s easier to talk to a computer than a real person.  I don’t have to deal with the guaranteed misunderstandings and asshattery that comes with trying to connect with people who jus aren’t on the same plane with me.  So I’ll be coming back here often to speak.  For now it’s the only place I feel safe.

Balance.

Everything in it’s own time, place, and amount.  I have a hard time finding balance, and am starting to see its importance in my life.  I’m also becoming acutely aware that there is only room in my life for productive things that serve me well.  If I allow anything below that standard into my world, I am only robbing myself.  I believe that sometimes I forget that I create my own life and that it’s not actually running itself.  From here on out I am committing to myself to honestly reassess my motives, goals, and dreams.  I am beginning to choose more wisely and selectively the thoughts, actions, people, and technologies I allow to take up space in my life, head, and heart.  I am planning to blog more, to practice creatively writing several times a week, examine long-term career options, and figure out more of the things that make me truly happy so I can spend more time chasing them.  In short, I’m seeking more balance.  I wish to learn more about love, learning, and the world, then make smart choices about incorporating what I’ve learned into making real, lasting changes that serve my life in the best ways possible… to make each day count!  Stay tuned.  Bookmark me.  <3

Mottos, lessons, perspectives, transcendence, satisfaction.

My conversation with a friend today pertaining to my experience in living here, the lessons I’m learning, including patience and so forth, prompted me to share a truth that’s steadily been unraveling for me over the past several years collectively but has come to be more poignant lately:  You really are only what you are today.  The beauty is that you can be different tomorrow if you decide to.  My friend was quite moved by this and threatened to “steal” this and use it as a motto.  At first I was genuinely flattered, yet quickly dismissed their adoration when I realized I’d just crapped out a generic inspiration that I’m quite sure someone at Hallmark has already branded on millions of pieces of 75% post-consumer recycled paper somewhere.  And yet…

I realized that these words possessed more power than I was initially crediting them.  And so I pondered them, re-read them, applied them to different sociological postulations, and realized that from a transcendental standpoint, they ARE what we ARE.  We ARE this.  And for the bajillionth time I realize that a bit of fresh perspective is all we (I) need.

Everything about us is decided.  Not by a clandestine so-called “Creator,” puh-lease, that’s a whole ‘nuther set of shit I don’t have any desire to address tonight; but by our own subconscious and conscious battling it out on a daily basis to find and maintain a balance between what we are and all that we can be.  Then in each of us there exists a mental form of homeostasis; a place to quiet the maddening roar of what our minds are working out subconsciously so that we may move through our limited days here mostly without going mad, for to imagine the infinite amount of possibilities in choices, decisions, goals, and their ultimate impact on our destiny is staggering, neigh impossible and disctinctly overwhelming.  And yet, every small detail, down to the most minute, dictates our movement through this life.  While not a new concept, the idea of self-propelled existence is puzzling to me and because I’m currently experiencing a world-shifting ride of active psychoanalysis and self-actualization, I wish to apply this idea to my surroundings and form hypotheses based on it.

Firstly I will discuss the power of finding a fresh perspective.  We all do it, nearly subconsciously, every day, be it in relations with friends and family or our work, or even in this disintegrating mess of a world we live in.  Is it a matter of survival, of adapting to one’s surroundings out of sheer necessity, or more that because we’re so highly intelligent that we choose to adapt, if only to ease our existence and perhaps make life a bit more interesting?  With the choices we make every single moment we are affecting the next hour, day, week, month, and years of our lives.  And yet some fail to take responsibility for that; acting as if their entire life is pre-ordained, or even worse, that they’re somehow sentenced to some ordinary, awful, or just plain pathetic existence just because this is the hand of cards that life dealt them.

So what stalls perfectly capable people in their tracks?  What causes someone to stop trying, to become “trapped” in a loveless marriage, a deadly drug addiction, a bad/unhealthy relationship (romantic or not), to float through life in a manner that never truly satisfies them?  Are we a truly a product of our surroundings, upbringing, and parental influence?  Perhaps we were told by someone once that we’ll “never amount to anything” and this limits us subconsciously, like a hungry beast of destruction that lingers in the back of our minds when adversity is knocking at our door and we hear that tiny voice saying, “I can’t DO this!  I’ll never be able to overcome this!” — hell, there are a plethora of negative self-talk examples I could use here; bottom line, at some point some of us gave up or find reasons to believe that what we want isn’t possible.  So we settle into a life that is subpar; one where we appear to be surviving; where we’re nourished physically, possess enough physical items to appear as if we’re doing “ok,” and even manage to eke out an existence in a tightly-knit patchwork of friends, family, and colleagues, all the while there’s someone inside, dying, screaming to get out!  To follow their dreams, to live each moment as if it were there last, etc etc, you’ve heard this before.  Have you ever stopped to wonder WHY in this society we’re so obsessed with films?  Why losing ourselves in someone else’s story is so much more intriguing than our focusing on our own?  Why people “snap” when the reach middle age and suddenly go cuckoo?  Well I intend to find out.

126 days (18 weeks) since arrival

Wow.  18 weeks have passed in the blink of an eye since I arrived in sunny Key West.  So much has transpired, and I’m so far geographically and consciously from where I’ve been that the world seems to have shifted on its axis.  Where to begin?  Do I ramble about how all of the new experiences have “opened my eyes” and shown me that the world indeed encompasses more than the limited petri dish I once knew?  Shall I enamor you with tales of adventure, miles traveled, and lessons learned through meandering ponderings and cliches?  At this point, were my collective writing repetoire more honed and craftsman-like, trained through the appropriate collegiate courses, I would have something nearly magical to say, I’m sure… I could regale you with colorful descriptions of locales and personalities, entwining their impact on me with the days that have passed since I last posted… Alas, I lack modern formal training, fought relentlessly with my English 101 and 102 prof (even stole a book from her, as I recall, that’s another story entirely), and just plain despise any organised semblance of right and wrong when it comes to writing, so I’ll just spill my wretched, most beautiful thoughts onto the proverbial paper and let you sort it out.  I should warn you that my penchant for run-on sentences and the misuse of semicolons is what spurned the ongoing battle between my last English professor and I.  Do enjoy.

Often since my arrival, I’ve had half-hearted urges (weak in their ability to cause action due to inconvenience, mostly) to begin a notebook and title it something cliched, such as “Key West Lessons,” with the very obvious intention of fashioning a more refined and acceptable name at some point in the not-so-distant future… The notebook would be my brain’s canvas; a place to spill out ideas and fragments of thought, since they seem to so frivolously appear in my mind, then dash from remembrance as if whisked away by the wind.  With such an abrupt change in my existence taking place, I’ve experienced a seemingly endless plethora of new tastes, colors, textures; physically, culturally, and metaphorically.  I desire not to pin them down on paper with the intent of figuring them out in a prescribed, mathematical function; rather I crave the documentation of the journey in the wondrous pieces I might preserve, thus not losing them to certain replacement by new thoughts, which seem to ebb and flow with the regularity of the tides.  I truly possess a terrible memory, and while I most likely do remember about 60% of most everything I think about, I’m concerned about the other 40; mostly because while I’ve skated by quite well at work and in personal endeavors with such a memory, I find I’m failing myself by allowing myself to so easily accept the early onset of senility.  I shall then expound here; in a fresh notebook, combining thoughts gone by with the unbridled passion that is my everyday urge to communicate my sociological ponderings.

I fit in well in Key West.  When I wander her streets, I feel more at home here than in the town I spent most of my life living.  Perhaps this is because the town is populated by tourists nearly 2/3 of the year and thus, you can’t always tell a local from a Floridian from a UK or Zimbabwe native.  Perhaps I possess an overinflated sense of self.  Either way, it does help when the locals (some of which possess particular metal bracelets, made by and embraced by locals) go about either purposely or inadvertently making one feel as if they haven’t yet earned their Key West wings… The most notable example that comes to mind is the weather: if a newbie makes any sort of complaint or even innocent observational remark about the heat/humidity (they don’t always go hand-in-hand), this is grounds for a very know-it-all-ish, condescending remark or two  (and I stay this after having experienced at least 20 times), such as “Oh, you think it’s hot now?!  It’s just going to get hotter!” and with an arrogant smile, this exchange solidifies your current and probable future existence as a a newbie.  Why be offended by this, you ask?  I suppose perhaps my personal experiences happened to be with people who seemed to go out of their way to make it obvious that I don’t know what I’m in for.  And who can really blame them?  Key West is notorious for high-resident-turnover; people come to visit, fall in love with the magic of the place, the off-mainland-island-mentality, and irresponsibly quit their jobs to relocate, having no idea what the true rigors are of actually suriving here.  I count myself luck in this respect, because I didn’t move here solely to be “here,” and my loving boyfriend was born here, has family here, as well as possesses a firm understanding of the beauty and ugliness of putting down roots in a tourist-town.  I suppose I’m a bit like the newly titled Duchess of Cambridge (formerly known as Kate Middleton)  in that sense; I’m new to this whole new, magical world that so many only get to catch a glimpse of on television, yet because of the lovely man I’m lucky to be attached to, I’m privy to an insider-look and educational perspective I otherwise would flounder without.

I realize I don’t even know Key West yet.  I’m just another tourist, living the dream, absorbing the celebrity that seems to hang around those of us adventurous or dumb enough to try and carve out an existence here.

Jose arrives tomorrow!

Well, here it is, my 2nd to last night in Lewiston; last night at my aunt and uncle’s home, where I’ve been staying since the last week of October.  I’ve spent the evening packing, washing clothes, organizing, and visiting with my aunt, uncle, and of course, Jose.

Today I was filled with so much excitement I feared I may explode!  I can’t believe that time has transpired so quickly and that he’s arriving tomorrow night and we’re leaving Friday!  I wished and waited for this day to come for SO long; I can scarcely believe it’s arrived.

Saying goodbye is turning out to be easier than I thought in a lot of ways, mostly because with this transition comes the revisited realization that “wherever you go, there you are” and those close to us are never far.  I have faith in the universe and know I’ll see my friends and family again.  This is just one small step in many to come in the future.  I wish to travel and see the world, with Jose by my side.  I have boarded the ship of hope and thrown my heart overboard to be carried by the tides.  May it take me where it will; for I am an adventurer, a smallish town girl seeking new eyes.  One of my favorite quotes is:

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” -Marcel Proust

I feel ready for this transition.  I crave uncertainty, newness, and moments of inspiration, surrounded by thousands of uneventful ones.  I am excited to be able to share this journey with Jose, who also questions the world and desires a colorful, tasty voyage in this life.  He is my chef, I shall not want for tasty dishes or gourmet lovin’.  And I am his sunshine, he shall not want for warmth.  I crave him so.  In less than 24 hours he’ll be in my arms again, and I can hardly contain myself!  :D

I’ll finish packing up the car in the morning.  Thus far coming up with a wardrobe plan for the road trip is challenging because of the weather; although I will have every other piece of clothing I own with me (except my pea coat which I will leave at Auntie Kim’s), so rearranging the overnight bag shan’t be too challenging.  ;)

Overall I’ve felt enormous support and good wishes in my choice to transplant.  I believe that those closest to me truly want the best for me and realize that this move is coming at the right time for me.  Through any doubts or fears I’ve experienced since deciding to move, I’ve never once doubted Jose and I’s strength as a couple or our ability to overcome obstacles; I’m sure there will be many.  I am privileged to call him mine and look forward to all of the fun we’ll have on this trip.  It’s a once in a lifetime experience and I couldn’t be more grateful for the opportunities that lie ahead.

You make your own reality.  If you don’t like where you live, change it.  If you don’t like who you are, change it.  Find your inner peace and don’t let anyone or anything harm it.  Treasure it, hold tightly to it, and every so often, shut the world and it’s distractions out and just BE.  You wouldn’t want to look back and ask yourself, “What IF?”

8 days until departure!

Well, this blogging hasn’t turned out to be as easy as I first imagined.  I haven’t found myself as willing to commit the necessary daily writing time that it deserved, but here goes an update anyway. 

Jose arrives in a week and I’m desperate to hold him, smell him, feel him close to me.  The combined stress of planning the trip, preparing my personal and work lives for the departure, as well as the looming worry of automotive troubles (my car seems to break down every so often) has caused me to become pretty stressed out. I’ve found that it comes and goes, and some days I’m nearly vibrating with excitement, yet some days I just want him to get here already so we can leave!  I know I must bide my time and absorb the transition of letting go of this place that has been my home for so long.  I’m in need of a good long run and hope to get one in the morning (my work schedule plus a lack of daylight has been limiting my runs this week).

My goal was to have our route finalized prior to December.  I’d set up a tentative route that took us south thru Idaho, Nevada (we’ll stop in Vegas), then east thru Arizona, New Mexico, Amarillo, Texas, and on, after which we would cut south at some point and get on I-10 which will take us past/near New Orleans, Biloxi, Mobile, etc. on our way to Key West…  Jose has decided he no longer wants to take on the 72oz. steak dinner in Amarillo, Texas, which truly doesn’t bother me, but now we don’t have any “required” cities to visit or any planned stops.  I’ve camped on getting our route finalized out of nervousness to choose the “wrong” route I suppose.  In addition, I gave AAA my address at my aunt’s, where there’s no mailbox, so I haven’t received my new member card.  I phoned them today and they said I can get a temporary one made up at the local AAA office.  I will visit there tomorrow for the card and see if they can help me with the route planning.  I wish I hadn’t waited this long to finalize this portion of the planning, and I hope that by finishing it up, I’ll alleviate some stress.

I just thank my stars that Jose is as patient as he is.  My myriad of emotions have waxed and waned and I’ve been happy, sad, worried, anxious, snappy, short, and everything in between.  Because he and I talk so much (morning and night), he’s often been the landing ground for my worries and frustrations.  He’s kept in step with me at each turn, being nothing but supportive and understanding.  I love him with all my heart and know that he can handle my mood swings and anxiety, but I still strive not to abuse him, even in times of immense stress.  I just can’t wait to wrap my arms around him again!

Saying goodbye to the LC Valley is turning out to be a non-event in the way that I expected; there hasn’t been a black and white moment of separation, and I doubt there one will materialize.  While my going away party felt like a necessary transitional step, it wasn’t the physical “jumping off a cliff” goodbye that I imagined.  My family will always be close in my heart, and I’ve never felt pressured by any of them to stay here or as if my presence here (or lack thereof) will directly affect our bond(s).  I will miss my Aunt Kim terribly, and the familial bonding I feel with her home and yard (we’ve had lots of great bbq’s, dinners, pool parties, et cetera there).  Besides that, my Mom comes and goes from the valley whenever she feels like it, bouncing between the Mainland and Hawaii, and I never know where she’ll decide to go next (which I cherish about her), plus my sisters live on the coast of Washington state… That’s not to say the rest of my family here in the valley isn’t important to me; quite the opposite, however we haven’t historically spent much time with one another in person anyway.  I will miss a handful of friends, and hope to keep up with them online and thru texting/calls… But yet, this location isn’t really something I’ll miss.  I know I’m in for a humongous culture shock in Florida, and while I welcome it, somehow I know I’ll miss it here someday, too.  I feel as if this transition is bigger than I can even fathom right now.  That is both exciting and daunting.  I want out of here badly, yet must admit I am nervous about moving clear across the country, to somewhere I’ve never been.  Deep inside I feel good about the move and feel like I’m making the right choice.  I suppose that because the transition and goodbye process started when I gave notice on and moved out of my apartment in October, I have been waiting for so long now to actually depart that I’ve grown weary of the goodbye process and just wish to have it done with already!  I am impatient, impertinent, and selfish.  I get frustrated with Jose because I don’t feel like he understands my perpective, yet how could I possibly expect him to when our lives and experiences are so different?  Yes, he moved from Spokane, WA to Key West a few years back, but his family is already in Florida and he’d been there to visit before.  That’s not to say that my experience is any less or more special or risky; it’s just different.  Obviously because I don’t have family there, I have less roots planted there, but that doesn’t worry me.  I trust in Jose and have faith that things will work out.  I’m not going to spend my days being doubtful and expecting negativity.  Well, not in the case of us… I’m still quite worried about my car!  ;)  The darn thing just seems to have so many problems, I can’t help but be worried!  Especially when it’s literally the key to my freedom! 

All in all, this journey is one that is rich with smiles and tears, doubts and excitement, realizations and learning steps.  I am so grateful to be at this precipice in my life and to be able to catalog my feelings for later review and remembrance.

18 days until departure!

Man, where has the time gone?!  It seems like a few weeks (instead of months) ago that Jose was here and we were bashing around the LC Valley, being crazily in love and not sure just what in the hell we were going to do when he had to leave…  Flash forward to almost the last day in November and in a little over two short weeks, he’ll be flying to Lewiston and then we’ll begin the weeklong road trip adventure of a lifetime!  I am STOKED.  I just wish I hadn’t broken my very first awesome digital camera a few days ago.  Good thing Jose has one.

Anyway, the final countdown has begun!  I am getting very excited and now have to keep my focus and keep looking for jobs/leads in Key West, as well as make contact with my planned roommates.  I’d emailed them last week and haven’t heard back; I thought I’d wait a few days because of the holiday but now am a little concerned, so I’ll call them in the next few days to make sure everything is alright!

This past weekend I did go through my leftover belongings (initially purged in October when I gave up my apartment and moved into my aunt’s to save money for the trip) & whittled them down again.  I look forward to doing this once more right before departure so I can pick out most of my winter clothing for storage with relatives so that I may retain it for future use during a visit.

At times the trip feels surreal; sometimes I’m not sure it’s actually happening.  My boyfriend is steadfast and consistent and I’ve been so grateful for his presence, support (emotional and monetary!), and continued sanity through this process!  I also miss him terribly and can’t wait to spend a week on the road with him.

I’m relieved that my Mom has returned from Hawaii and I’ll be able to spend time with her prior to departure and that she’ll get to spend time with Jose also.

In most conscious ways, I’m prepared for this trip.  In some uncontrollable ones, I’m sure there will be surprise feelings and doubts that creep in at the last minute.  One thing I know for sure is that I believe in Jose and I’s connection, our relationship, and our bond.  He is a rock, and I am so grateful for the turning of events earlier this year that led to this.  I’m grateful for the fact that I was ready to receive him and all that he has to offer and that the timing was such that we reconnected and grew our relationship slowly over the phone and miles.  Those are things that give me peace and keep me grounded amidst all this excitement and forging into the unknown.

I know I will miss my family and friends here deeply, and hope to be able to visit next year.  Sometimes I wonder if they resent my decision to move, and if so, is it based solely on their disapproval of my decisions or that they’ll miss me, or that perhaps they’re jealous that I’m striking out on my own and not settling into the self-accepted condemnation of servitude that this valley seems to cause. 

I wish I had a laptop and could go around the valley and just sit and muse at different locations (mostly parks and pull-outs) and just open my mind to let the thoughts come pouring out.  I feel as if my writing suffers for it; I have a deep desire to emotionally purge and then unforgivably edit, but with everything going on and the fact that I’m borrowing pc’s, I am rather limited in my computer time. 

I do look forward to departing, and hope for clear roads and many fun adventures.  I do worry about money and issues arising with the car, but Jose cautions me not to worry too much, that everything will be fine, etc.  I can’t help it!  Now that I’ve finally decided to blow this popsicle stand, so to speak, it’s hard to imagine the universe won’t throw little roadblocks my way.  Is that a natural worry/concern or am I being paranoid?  I don’t wish to overwhelm myself with unnecessary worries, and we have and will be taking steps to prevent mishaps (signed up with AAA, getting a fresh oil change, have had tires worked on/re-checked); somehow I still worry.

More tomorrow.

19 days to go!

I didn’t write for several days because I felt an ingenuine quality to my writing; I wasn’t sure who I was writing for.  I started this blog for two reasons; my sister suggested that many people would want to read about my journey, and I also desired a written catalogue of my feelings and experiences in the lead-up to this grand adventure.  I suppose I’ll just keep true to the latter and it oughto work out just fine, eh? ;)

Another thing is that I haven’t had my own computer hooked up to the internet since I’ve been staying at my aunt’s this past month.  There’s no cable for the connection present in the room my pc is set up in, and she was quite happy to let me use her laptop… the thing is, I haven’t felt really “at home” on it and suppose that it’s been a roadblock in my honest and raw expression of my feelings during this time.  Don’t get me wrong; I’m very grateful for the ability to use it.

First let me say that the weather pattern(s) we’ve been enduring here in the pacific northwest have done nothing but solidify my decision to move to a warmer climate.  We went through several days where our projected (and received) high temperatures were never above 18 degrees, and even one night our low got down to -2.  For years I’ve wondered (sometimes aloud) why anyone would want to live somewhere where it gets so cold!  I’m not a winter sports aficianado, nor do I enjoy being cold.  A lot of folks up here have expressed dire warnings and caution in regards to the heat and humidity of the southern half of the United States; I suppose it may just end up being the lesser of two evils in the end.  The warmer, more humid climate will take some getting used to, for sure.  I am moving at the best possible time to acclimate gently though; it’s “winter” in Florida so the humidity is much lower and the temperatures are as well.  Hopefully by “summer” I’ll have become used to it.  My main concern is my jogging/running:  when I’ve run in high humidity here (once or twice), it felt like I was carrying a wet blanket on my back and my lungs couldn’t seem to draw enough oxygen from the air, no matter how hard I tried.  I certainly hope this isn’t the case in Key West because my running is an integral part of my life now.  If push comes to shove, I’ll get a gym membership I suppose, although besides the weight lifting possibilities in a gym, I’d prefer to be outside for my cardio.

Saying goodbye to a place you’ve called home for 20+ years is daunting, yet refreshing, if you’re ready for it.  Calling me “so ready I’m already gone” would be appropriate!  I’ve felt as if this valley is a sinkhole for awhile, and desired to get out, but didn’t have any connections I felt like calling upon.  Now I do.  My boyfriend lives in Key West.  I recognize the obvious point one could make about moving for another person, let alone one you’ve not been officially dating for very long.  This is where I say, “So what?” because I am very sure of my decision to move to be with him, and believe in our connection and plans with every fiber of my core.  Send positive thoughts, faith, and hope to me please, not condescending doubts and jealousy, dishonestly masked as concern.  This is my journey, and it’s one that marks the beginning of my adult life, which will continue even in the event that our relationship doesn’t.  This is about me, my story, and my willingness to be brave and step out of my comfort zone to learn more about the world and my place in it.  Wish me luck!

So yes, only 19 days remain before Jose arrives in Lewiston.  We depart the following morning.  I am so excited to see him, hold him, touch him, and miss his presence like the desert misses water.  It’s been over two months since we’ve seen each other.  We keep in contact every day by phone and text, but it’s not enough when you’re madly in love.  He’s been working overtime to save money for our trek and my move-in costs at my new place; I am so grateful to him and feel as if I’m not working enough.  He’s got twice the money saved that I do, although I’ll have more in the next few weeks.

My mother returns home from Hawaii today and I’m very grateful.  I’m glad she’ll be safe at home in the town where most of her family resides, as well as her pet, a lively, spunky little pug named “Lil’ Squatt.”  I am glad I’ll get to put my arms around my mom before I leave, and that she’ll get to see Jose again.  He and I were best friends when we were children (around 4th/5th grade) and so she’s met him several times before, it’s just been years since they’ve seen each other. I just wish my sisters could spend some time with him as well prior to our departure.

I am ready for the unknown, and my soul and psyche are ready to be engaged.  Life is waiting out there for me, as it always has been.  As the old adage goes, “Wherever you go, there you are.”  I don’t expect to see a big change in who I am just by moving, and I certainly don’t expect the world to suddenly become all bright and shiny.  I’m not that naiive anymore; what I expect are expanded horizons and the joy of being able to look back one day and say “I did not stay because I was scared.  I ran because I was brave.”  Whee!

30 days & I realized I need a GPS device…

I thought that utilizing an atlas and the inevitable “stop at a gas station and ask for directions” plan would get me to Florida.  After speaking with a seasoned traveler today, I realized I need a GPS system.  I’m somewhat embarrassed to admit this, and still nervous about putting the navigation of the trip in the hands of an electronic device, however I seriously lack confidence in my own ability to successfully navigate us there myself.

My boyfriend’s mom is mailing her GPS device to him and he’s going to bring it with him when he flies up here to Idaho, the day before we’re set to leave.  I’m nervous about this for a few reasons, mostly based in my insatiable urge to control every aspect of things… I want to hold this GPS system, get to know it on a first-name basis, make sure it works, see what features it has; basically familiarize myself with it NOW, not the night before we’re due to leave!  The obvious option would be to purchase one, however with the costs of the trip plus my move-in costs in my new home (renting a room, see post from Nov. 14), spending any extra money on something we don’t “need” seems foolish… But to be fair, given my lack of talents and gifts in navigating, perhaps we do “NEED a GPS system… ;)

I’ll look around online for them tomorrow and get some pricing ideas.  I also need to get my car into the shop to see what can be done about the A/C; it’s not blowing cold air and I suppose that it would be a good idea to get it fixed prior to heading into the warmer southern states… even if it is “winter” there.  :)

With that I shall sign off for the night.