Last Day at THODW

Today's my last day at THODW. I'm going to miss the hell out of that place. I'm leaving before I hate it because it's been such an amazing journey and part of my life and I don't ever want to resent it or regret it like I have seen people do.

I started here a terrified little girl and now I'm not. Simply. I have new hobbies, new interests, a zeal for traveling, a faith in myself that's new, confidence to travel alone - that's definitely new, most importantly - the most amazing and supportive network of friends from all over the world who will always understand this part of my life. Always. And I have Macau and the people here to thank for all of that.

I might even return to Asia one day. Not immediately, I will need some time to get over this experience and properly mourn my leaving, but I'll come back one day. I need to dive Raja Ampat again, after all.

This experience meant so much to me that I'm ignoring the mounds of crap all over my room to write a the first of what I am sure will be several posts dedicated to how I feel about leaving because I am still trying to work it out for myself.

I'm sad to be leaving the first place I have called home since I moved to LSU. I'm sad to be leaving my yoga classes because they centered me and grounded me and gave me a coping mechanism. I wish I had traveled more - because the world is so big and the slice of it I have explored so tiny in comparison. I am going to miss my coworkers - all 400 of them. Well, maybe most of them. Ok, some of them. They are the most passionate, beautiful, caring, loving people I have ever met. We're a family. Together we acheived some awesome things and I am so proud to say that I was a part of them.

Most of all, I am proud of myself. Because when I got here, I thought I might make it 6 months and then flee home quaking in terror. Instead, I am walking out a member of the creation team for the show, having made it and flourished in my job. I am proud of the work I accomplished, because I did work really hard, as we all did.

No regrets. Not a single, solitary one.

To My Concerned Readers:

I know you are all sad as my time in Macau draws to a close because that means my lively and entertaining blog that approximately two people (including Justin) read will end.

Have no fear.

I am vacating Macau, but this girl's story is not ending. I'll write as long as I have something to say, which we all know is unlikely to ever change.

I got things to say.

I may change my blog site when I get home and rework some things in my free time, edit entries to include pictures of the things about which I speak and have spoken.

As long as Justin keeps reading, I will write!

Plus, I'm sure readjusting to life post-Macau will have its own adventures relevant to expat living!

Random Acts

I am preparing to leave Macau. My bags are in the process of being packed, my room is looking like someone tossed it and my first box has already arrived in Mandeville.

Reflecting on my time here: there's been a lot of bad and a lot of tears.

But it's so hard to leave because there has been so much good. I came here to work and instead, I learned how to live.

Life is not about the bad moments, I'm taking away all the good instead.

Macau is not taxi drivers passing me by on the street, but instead the taxi drivers who love when a Westerner gets into their cab so that they can practice their English.

It's not the dreary weather and omnipresent rain clouds; it's the bus attendant on the street who held an umbrella over my head when it was raining and the bus was late and all I had was my raincoat.

Instead of throwing away old clothes or clothes I've never worn, it's giving them to our cleaner from the Philippines who's supporting her family back home on a salary I remember struggling on to provide for myself alone.

It's not the people who can never have enough name brand things; it's the people who go on a diving trip to Indonesia and leave behind everything because the boys on the boat wore the same clothes every day and their gear was worn and we didn't need our's because of closets full of namebrand clothes from Macau and our gear was samples from vendors.

It truly doesn't take much, does it? This life has been so fruitful and so good to me. I am so grateful and so blessed for everything.

I'm On (Was On...) a Boat...

I just got back from spending 10 days sailing around Indonesia. I know, my life is so hard. I thought this many times as I was lounging on a deck chair wrapped in a fresh towel after a dive with a cold bottle of water in my hand sailing across the most beautiful water I have ever seen. Try to picture it, if you will.

After a hellish week, I wasn't sure I wanted to go. And let me clear the air, this trip has been planned and paid for since April. I have been looking forward to this since I started diving lessons 15 months ago. Raja Ampat is an awesome dive area. But with Robert and everything going on in life, it took every ounce of will in my body to drag myself 24 hours to Sorong, Indonesia - AKA the middle of nowhere - to get on a boat and forget everything for a while.

Never looked back.

I love the water, I always have. I like floating in it, on it, being on a boat, sea spray in my face. I like skipping my feet in the wake of a boat. I like listening to it, seeing it, watching it. I like the feeling of being weightless and being underwater for an hour at a time is the best way I could think of to spend my time. Diving is like yoga, once I get underwater, I don't think about anything but what I see and breathing. I can't, it's just not possible.

We were flying out of HK in the early afternoon, so I woke up early to finish checking my packing and my kit and to run up to the theater to print my ferry ticket which I booked, but neglected to print. It had been a tough week. The journey wasn't easy. Much like Boracay, if you want to get to the good places, you have to be motivated.

Taxi from apartment to ferry terminal. Ferry from Taipa to HK. One plane from HK to Jakarta. Shuttle from International to Domestic. One plane from Jakarta to Makassar. Run to connection because plane was delayed. Pray your bags made it with you. One plane from Makassar to Sorong. 20 hours since you left home and you've arrived. Gone is the dark, dreary wintry weather Macau/HK were showering your way. Hello to BLUE skies, white puffy clouds, warm breezes, and the smell of the ocean. I couldn't make this stuff up, it really just writes itself!

Take no notice of the fact that the Sorong arrival area is - ahem - lacking in facilities. That's a clue that you might be in the right place. Who cares if the luggage conveyor belt appears to be moving at the speed of a gentleman peddling a bike out back to operate it? And if your luggage appears dead last, minutes behind everyone elses that is the least of your worries, because you made it, your gear made it, and guess what. One more taxi ride to go, then get on a speed boat. That liveaboard and a dream await!

A Letter for Dominick and Natalie

Dear Dominick,

You have never met me and you probably never will, but I think it is important that you hear about what a wonderful man your grandfather was. I had trouble writing this and it took me a couple of days to get through because I just do not want to admit that he is gone.

I do not have a specific story to tell you, or even a specific memory of him. But if ever there was a beacon of God's grace, it was Robert Chance.

I know he always went out of his way to greet me when I made it to church after a time away because he missed me. Even if it meant we were the last two people standing in a congregation of 700 people. He always made me feel important. I know that I always went out of my way to stand in his receiving line at the end of service for one of his hugs, even in high school, because I knew he cared and I have rarely felt such unconditional love as he freely gave. I cannot emphasize how much he and his friendship mean to me.

He wrote me a couple months ago to ask me to join him in Israel, a trip my family was taking with him. I had to decline because I had already paid for a diving trip to Raja Ampat, but I promised I would see him in December and I asked him to take me next time they journey to the Holy Land. I am filled with regret at not taking the journey to Israel with him. I will never stop regretting that choice. Because it would have meant seeing my friend again, getting another hug, receiving more words of encouragement in an way that only he knows how to give.

My mom said it perfectly: "He had a way of making everyone feel like they had a special relationship with them, that they were his favorite." But every relationship he cultivatedwas special, because he truly cared.

Robert, along with Sherri and Don MacMasters, walked me through two or three years of Disciple while I was in high school. I learned fellowship there. I learned how important small groups are. Those three taught me that adults could be cool, they can be trusted, but most of all, they taught me that adults can be your friends and that is an awe-inspiring thing when you are a teenager. I had a rough time in high school and these three kept me grounded and sane at a time I needed them the most. They inspired faith in me and taught me how to lead a life that would never be easy, but would always be grounded in faith. They taught me that when I needed a light to my path all I had to do was come home and they would provide it, my support network would always be there even if I was not. I was devastated to leave them behind when I graduated, though I think my heart never really did leave them completely. Robert understood kids most of all and I think the people you will come to see he affected most are the kids he mentored all along his path.

Through all of my travels, my time away from home, Robert has always encouraged me. He knew my heart and knew that all I have ever wanted to do is go home. One day. He understands needing to fly before coming home to build a nest. He emailed me to say he was thinking about me and that he was praying for me and it is funny how those emails always seem to come on a day when I needed them the most.

Robert Chance was St. Timothy's UMC to me and I am gutted at the idea of stepping back into that church and knowing I will not see his face. To be honest, I don't know if I can do it. I may not be strong enough. There were times when I doubted the church and I still do because I am human and the church is human and I know enough to know just how fallible a church can be. But Robert was different. He had a gift for people and he was magnetic. His laugh, which I can hear clear as a bell even though it has been almost a year since we last saw each other, his kind eyes, his hugs, his smell - he ALWAYS smelled so good. I can remember many conversations with my friends about his hugs and how good he always smelled. The ubiquitous bow tie. The epitome of a gentleman. The likes of which the world may never know again.

The last couple of times I spoke to Robert, we were emailing back and forth. I had decided to come home from Macau, where I have been working for 2.5 years and he was encouraging. As always. He never stopped believing in me. He promised I would get work and wrote how happy he was to be slowing down. He loved his work and he was good at it, but he was over the moon about his new grandson (you) and wanted to have plenty of time to watch you grow up. I'm sorry he will not get that opportunity.

He was understanding and empathetic. He was practical, honest, and gentle. He was not afraid to cry and sometimes he did, because he felt that much. It made him that much more human, that much stronger in my eyes. He was so fond of his hospital ministry, when he would visit others in the hospital while they were sick, and I can only imagine the countless numbers of people he brought comfort to. His passion for the Lord and for Israel I can remember even back then. I always wanted to take that trip to Israel with him.

But I'm lucky: my mom visited him in the hospital before she left Israel and she was able to tell him I love him. I am so glad he knew how I felt, because he never missed an opportunity to tell me he loved me. She says his work on this earth must have been done for him to be called home so soon, I have to trust that because losing him hurts.

So Robert, if there is anyone waiting for me when my time comes, I would hope it is you. I could do with another one of those hugs right now and I can't wait to see what bow tie they have prepared for you there. I hope it's shiny!

Through all of the deep sadness and tears I and so many others feel right now, I am confident in a few things. Robert Chance was a man of God. Your grandfather loved you. He loved your mom so much. He was incredibly proud of Natalie and she was always the apple of his eye. I can remember him talking about her even when I was much younger and being in awe of how much love he had for his child. He was thrilled when she got married and when he told me that she was expecting you, I could hear the excitement and pride in his email. And I am confident that when we retire from this world and join your Pops in Heaven, he will greet us with a bow tie, a hug, a smile, and maybe even a tear in his eye because he is so proud of us. Don't ever forget how much he loved you.

Thanks for sharing him with us, Natalie. It could not have always been easy, but I hope you know how much he was loved and how many lives he touched!

Love,

Alex Manuel

PS. Bow ties are cool. They were always cool. Everyone can wear a tie, but only a really special person can wear a bow tie and make it look good, like your grandfather. Maybe that is the most important thing to remember: only an incredibly awesome person can rock a bow tie.

Bowties and Hugs

Today, my heart is truly broken.

I had trouble writing this post and it took me a couple of days to get through because I just do not want to admit he's gone.

My dear friend Robert has moved on from this world and gone to be with the Lord. I cannot emphasize how much this man and his friendship mean to me.

I am filled with regret at not taking the journey to Israel with him. I will never stop regretting that choice. Because it would have meant seeing my friend again, getting another hug, receiving more words of encouragement in an way that only he knows how to give.

If ever there was a beacon of God's grace, it was Robert Chance.

My mom said it perfectly: "He had a way of making everyone feel like they had a special relationship with them, that they were his favorite." But every relationship he cultivated was special, because he truly cared.

The last couple of times I spoke to Robert, we were emailing back and forth. I had decided to come home from Macau and he was encouraging. As always. He never stopped believing in me. He promised I would get work and wrote how happy he was to be slowing down. He loved his work, but he was over the moon about his new grandson and wanted to have plenty of time to watch him grow up.

I can't tell you a special story about him, or anything that stands out right now. He was just always there. He guided me through my confirmation, he taught all of my disciple classes with Sherri and Don, he was always there when I came home to give me a hug and went out of his way to greet me when I made it to church after a time away because he missed me. Even if it meant we were the last two people standing. He always made me feel important.

Robert Chance was St. Timothy's UMC to me and I am gutted at the idea of stepping back into that church and knowing I will not see his face. I don't know if I can do it. I may not be strong enough. There were times when I doubted the church and I still do because the church is human and I know enough to know just how fallible a church can be. But Robert was different. He had a gift for people and he was magnetic. His laugh, which I can hear clear as a bell even though it's been almost a year since we last saw each other, his kind eyes, his hugs, his smell. The ubiquitous bow tie. The epitome of a gentleman. The likes of which the world may never know again.

When I was in high school, and having a particularly rough time, Robert made me feel comfortable around adults. He and the MacMasters made me realize that adults can be pretty cool. He was understanding and empathetic. He was practical, honest, and gentle. His passion for the Lord and for Israel I can remember even back then. I always wanted to take that trip to Israel with him and now I'll never have the chance.

But I'm lucky: my mom visited him in the hospital before she left Israel and she told him I loved him. I'm just glad he knew how I felt, because he never missed an opportunity to tell me he loved me.

So Robert, if there is anyone waiting for me when my time comes, I would hope it is you. I could do with another one of those hugs right now and I can't wait to see what bow tie they have prepared for you there. I hope it's shiny!

I thought we had more time. Yet again, time made a fool of me and I am just a hair too late.

It makes me so desperately sad.

The Relentless Year

Since August, I have lost two friends to motorcycle accidents and another was taken seriously ill.

When life gets going, sometimes it just doesn't know how to let up.

Today's friend spotlight is on someone who is very dear to me.

My friend Robert is an amazing man. I've known him since I was young, I can't really remember a time when Robert was not around. He's the associate pastor at our church and has always been there for me. He's always thrilled to see me, asks my parents about me, gives the greatest hugs and the firmest handshakes. He ALWAYS wears a bow tie - which is the ultimate gentleman. Plus, he always smells so good!

Robert, along with Sherri and Don, walked me through two or three years of Disciple while I was in high school. I learned fellowship here. I learned how important small groups are. Those three taught me that adults could be cool, they can be trusted, but most of all, they taught me that adults can be your friends and that is an awe-inspiring thing when you're a teenager. I had a rough time in high school and these three kept me grounded and sane at a time I needed them the most. I was devastated to leave them behind, though I think I never really did.

Through all of my travels, my time away from home, Robert has always encouraged me. He knows my heart and knows that all I have ever wanted to do is go home. One day. He understands needing to fly before coming home to build a nest. He emails me to say he's thinking about me and that he's praying for me and it's funny how those emails always seem to come on a day when I need them the most.

He wrote me a couple months ago to ask me to join him in Israel, a trip my family is on. I had to decline because I had already paid for a diving trip to Raja Ampat, but I promised I would see him in December and I made him promise to take me next time they journey to the Holy Land.

Life sure does know how to toss a mean curve ball, but I was one step ahead of it, for once. You see, when Robert is able to travel home to Louisiana, which I pray is so so soon, I will only be half a heartbeat behind him. Because I know that this is one man that I need to spend more time with.

Those reasons to get home as fast as possible continue to pile up. I will have the wings of Hermes on my feet when I get back from diving. Rarely have I been so eager to move on to the next adventure! And I am so fortunate to be able to spend time with the people in my life I love the most before having to worry about moving on to my next situation. Macau definitely has it's bonuses!

Robert, my bottom line for this post is this: I have been praying harder for you since the moment I found out than I think I ever have in my life. You mean the world to me and I will not stop praying for you until I can get one of those hugs from you. Or maybe this time, I can give you a hug because you have given me so many. I love you, I miss you, and I cannot wait to see you for Christmas!

Thanksgiving 2012

Thanksgivings away from home are not fun.

Last year, I was able to skype with the family, but this year, the family is spread farther and wider than usual. So instead, I made jambalaya from a packet and watched Brothers and Sisters and spent the night crying while I'm packing because Kitty's going through cancer and those episodes were really hard to watch the first time and harder to watch now, when I just want to hug everyone I love. I mean, seriously, I wasn't even drinking.

On that note. Thanksgiving. I think it is such an important holiday. I try to keep a healthy perspective on my life all the time, but I know it's difficult for so many people and it is indeed quite easy to lose sight of the good in all the bad in the world.

No bad today. Only words of good and encouragement.

Today I am thankful for the opportunities I have been blessed with since the day I was told I no longer had a place somewhere I thought would always be there. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. That day opened my eyes to a world beyond the US and I stumbled across this job online as a direct result of that happenstance.

I am thankful that every step I have taken, every decision made in my life has brought me to my here and now.

I am thankful for the perspective I have gained from living over seas and the tolerance for other people's cultures and way of living that I have been blessed to experience.

I am grateful for every person I have met on my journeys near and far. You have all influenced me to be a more empathetic and understanding person.

The world is such a huge place and it can seem so daunting. But my travels have taught me that it is maybe not quite so large as we think. I can see the influence of foreign cultures everywhere and it is so important to understand just how small the internet has made the world.

Above all these things, I am thankful for my family. They are the people who have loved me since before the day I was born. My parents: who have put up with my whims and quibbles and tantrums and tears since way beyond the time it ceased being cute. My grandparents: who are the most amazing and strong people I know. My aunt and uncles: they, too, are so strong and have shown me that divorce is not the end of the world and how powerful life can be beyond something so devastating. My brother and sisters: I am not an easy person with whom to get along. I am headstrong and opionated. Bullish (an Ox, in fact). They have loved me through it all and I look forward to spending time with what I consider to be the world's best family when I get home. I have missed out on a lot since the day I left home four years ago to seek my "fortune" and I have finally realized my fortune was right in front of my face all along.

Today I am thankful to have realized that my true fortune in life was never money. Mine has always been my family and my friends and the people who have shaped me.

Today I am thankful to be going home to those people in such a short time, with the knowledge that my friends I leave behind here in Macau are never more than a heartbeat away.

For Reuben.

At the risk of being maudlin, I need to salute another friend of mine who made an impact on my life and was gone before I realized I needed to tell him how much he influenced me.

Reuben Mitchell and I met when he was beginning his path as an MFA candidate at LSU and I was just entering the BA program as an inexperienced undergrad.

We bonded because we were both new to the program and we found a home at our work study jobs in the scene shop at the LSU theater department. We laughed for hours over the time consuming tasks like building staircases and tearing down sets tied to the back of the shop truck's bumper. We teased Jim Murphy, we bonded with our ATDs JT and Barr, we rode around in the shop truck for hours. We built some amazing things together.

Reuben was a friend.

He bridged boundaries this girl was unsure of and did it so effortlessly. The day the 365 Mafia won the Grammy for "It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp"... Reuben went around for weeks maintaining that mantra. He taught me to say it like a sista. His words, not mine. And it is, yo. It's HARD out here for a pimp. He always looked out for me and had a ridiculous joke or a hug to cheer me up on the bad days. I'd like to think that we made a lasting imprint on LSU theater. A life I know is so fleeting, but I also know we were two of a kind. Our group, our peers, we were one of a kind.

One of my fondest LSU memories was the night we all closed Tennessee Williams in Quarter Time. A show directed by John Dennis. We were all terrified to work with him and it was filled with some of my highs and lows from college. One of my highs was that night. We went somewhere fancy, Juban's I think, and then to the Chimes, maybe. Those details are fuzzy. What is not fuzzy is the after party we all had in the basement of the building where our resident artists were being housed at the time. There was a room full of rolling chairs and I will never forget gliding around the room at top speed for hours. It was before digital cameras and Reuben kept rolling by me in his chair screeching "Did you get it? Did you get it?" I got that image. It remains indelibly imprinted in my head. And my heart.

So Reuben. You helped shape my career in theater more than you know. You didn't always want to be at that job, hell, neither did I, but you showed up more than most. You were a friend, a pal, a companion. You attempted to teach me to box (tuck your elbows in, stay low, keep your arms close), see? I retained some of it... I've never known anyone like you and I don't care to ever. Because you broke the mold. 

I salute you, friend. And I sleep tonight knowing you rest easy with the knowledge we have four more years of Obama to turn this country around. 

Thanks for being my friend.

Happy Birthday - Last One in Macau!

We've been dark for the last two weeks and it has been ultra productive. Which I'm grateful for because it's my last one and I want to leave my projects here in good shape. I finished my big project - which is what I set out to do. My secondary project is in good shape. I feel comfortable leaving it like this, just some paper work left to tie up loose ends. (!)

My birthday was yesterday. I worked an 830 to 630 day. Got a surprise day off, so that was SUPER NICE! We went for a couple coronas after work and then we ended up celebrating in true casino town fashion by eating twice our body weight in food and dessert at a buffet! WINNING. Maybe I should go to Vegas for next year's birthday so that I don't feel too much like a fish out of water. Also, the weather turned pleasantly cool, so it isn't unbearable to be outside anymore which was maybe the best present besides the surprise day off!

My old college roommate Kathleen is going to come visit tomorrow, which is exciting and she'll be here for a week to hang out and experience the joys of Macau.

Then I go to Chiang Mai to visit her for a weekend next week.

One week of work, then a two week scuba diving trip to Raja Ampat.

One week of work and a flight home.

It seems so final. I have shipped two boxes of my life and gotten rid of one huge bag of clothing. Now that the dark is over, I can get rid of so much more.

I got nostalgic in the shower today and maybe cried a little. I'm scared to death to move home. To leave my friends, my home, my pet, my job. I love my coworkers, I love working with people who are so different. I love how broad the world is and how much diversity I have learned to embrace.

I am going to miss Macau more than I realized. I do want to find a home and put down roots, but Macau wasn't it.

Good thing I'm going to be busy when I get home!

In the Blink of an Eye

Funny how life changes, isn't it?

I was just sitting here thinking how bone-achingly tired I am and I can't help but wonder, "what am I doing here?"

I have always been so driven, so motivated, so goal-oriented and when I reached what I thought was my end all be all, I have realized maybe I was always chasing some ephemeral dream.  Dreams change, goals change. It just took me awhile to realize that I was not going to find my new dreams here in Macau.

Once upon a time I was going to be a dancer. Then an actress.  A marine biologist. A history professor. An art conservationist. A curator. I thought about being an architect and a history professor. A lighting designer. I settled on a theatrical electrician for the present.

I have always heard, "Money doesn't buy happiness." I thought, "It couldn't hurt..." Truth be told, I have money. It didn't.

I struggle every day. Every single day I fight an internal battle about letting go and letting my life take the course and shape it is meant to. How do you know when you get where you are supposed to be? Do you ever know?

Not that I am discontented with my life. Never. I sometimes wish I had gone a different route, but it is always fleeting and it is an emotion very different from regret.

So what do I want to be when I grow up? Not sure. People ask me pretty much every day, "What are you going to do when you leave?" I tell them, "I don't know. I just want to be for awhile."

I have been on the go for the last twenty years of my life. I want to stop and read books, garden, cook, take a class, go to museums, take leisurely trips, hang out with my grandparents and hear more of their stories. Mostly I want to have a life.

I always thought I had one and now I am realizing that maybe all the time I was striving toward achieving my next big adventure, I had what I wanted in front of me the whole time.

That is not to say, of course, that I will be settling down to lead a quiet, mundane life. Only that I will not let it go this long between recharging my mental batteries in the place I will always call home again.

Leaving Your Job is Exhausting

I felt totally accomplished when I packed one box to ship home. Now, I feel like I have done nothing. My room is relatively unchanged, I still have too much crap, and I can already feel the walls closing in. Let me tell you this, there are not enough hours in the day to finish everything I want to do.

Sunday, a coworker and I attended Lusofonia - the Portugese festival Macau holds every year. It was awesome! We had a great time. Good music by the Mozambique band - apparently they, too, were colonized by the Portugese. Who knew? Also, their blackbeans and rice dish - to die for!

The weather has been wonderful lately, so yesterday some friends and I went out to Coloane for lunch on a patio, which was fantastic. Then in the evening we went to Oktoberfest at the MGM. It was an evening complete with beer steins, REAL LIVE GERMAN WAITRESSES (this point was very important to MGM, so I felt it necessary to bold it), a German band that played all your German favorites: The Chicken Dance and Mambo Number 5 among others, as well as your standard sausage, saurkraut, and pretzel fare. It was nice, but I can only imagine how different the real Oktoberfest is. Better. The original is always better.

What was not so great about this weekend was coming home from Coloane yesterday to find hundreds of crickets swarming my room. Not cool. Clara's cage had - unbeknownst to me - developed a hole in the netting and the crickets had made a break for it. I have been finding crickets every time I walk into my room and am a little tired of catching them. I did find the hole today and stitch it back up, but it is definitely not my new favorite game.

Also, my hamster died last week. Being a grownup and having to bury your own pet, even if it is a hamster, sucks. He also died in my hands and, ridiculously, I thought of Harry Potter seeing death and then being able to see the threstrals. I wonder if a hamster counts...? Anyway. RIP Izno. You were pretty smart for a hamster and you were an alright pet. Thanks for keeping me busy while I lived here.

Less than two months until I come home. Wow. Have I made a terrible mistake? I'm going to miss this place so much!

Things I Do NOT Miss About the States

This post may also be subtitled: The Perks Of Being an Expat.

There's one obvious one: no taxes. True story.

But seriously, being away for the election is one of the best. It's bad enough on facebook people shoving their political views down our throats. I was taught never to discuss politics or religion in polite company and I firmly believe in that old adage. (See Mom, it's almost like I did go to cotillion!)  The elections and facebook make me think seriously about whether or not the internet was the downfall of manners and etiquette.

Obviously the internet has its perks, but grammar, letter writing, conversation - these arts are on their way out the door and that hurts my heart.

Having to drive everywhere. I will never ever miss that. I love walking. I love walking to the grocery store and buying only what I can carry two blocks home. The worst part is living in an apartment building on a super busy street and breathing all the exhaust fumes. But it doesn't cancel out the benefits of walking.

Another bonus for being away: I've learned how to eat vegetables. I used to survive on pasta, but when you can't read ingredients on the food you are purchasing and (like me) are concerned about the origins and ingredients of your consummables, you eat vegetables. I have learned to be creative with my meals and live a healthier lifestyle for it.

I learned that phone contracts are bogus. I do not need those incredible expensive contracts and I do not want to be on my phone all the time. Minimal phone cards suffice. Much more practical.

In that same vein, cellular phones are the devil. Especially smart phones. I had a blackberry when I came out here and it killed me to "downgrade" to a basic Nokia. Now, I'm horrified that I'll have to give it up when I move home. People here in Macau are ALWAYS on their phones. The hookers, business people, people eating together, people watching movies IN MOVIE THEATERS, people driving, people walking in front of me on the street preventing my speedwalking, people in the pool for goodness sake. No kidding. In the pool. I will do my best to not be one of those people when I come home. No phones on the table, especially if we're out to dinner. So rude.

I read something while out here that said, "In my day, if something broke we didn't throw it away, we fixed it." I like that. With all the skills I have honed out here, I hope to get back to that way of life. Much more rewarding. More letters, more time outside, more gardening, more conversations, less texting.

Macau Macoma Part 3

Lessons Learned: Third Edition

Mexican food: outside of the Southern US and Central and South America - not the same. Ever.

If you move to Asia: you can kiss your personal space goodbye.  It's in the fine print when you sign a contract to work over here: your personal space no longer belongs to you. Don't look for it, it's not there.

As a matter of force, you must learn to be aggressive and rude whilst living out here.  It's not our fault: it's not even their fault.  You just have to do it to get ahead in life.  Otherwise, people take advantage of your good nature and cut in front of you in lines, steal taxis from you, rip you off, and generally run ramshod all over you. Don't let them!

People, as a rule, are surprising.  Just when you lose what little faith you have left in a culture, they redeem themselves. A taxi driver turns the meter off when he brings you the wrong place, a bus stop monitor holds an umbrella over you because you're standing in the rain in your rain coat and your bus is late. Those are the moments that matter, not all of the bad ones in the entire time you're there combined.  Life is much too short to hold on to all that bad.

Grey days do not necessarily mean you should stay in bed. Get out and do something. There are far too many of them in Macau to let them go to waste. Grey days can be just as awesome as sunny days!

You affect people more than you know. Sometimes you don't realize how much until it's too late. Keep in mind that you may never know how people truly feel about you: feelings are pretty complex and unpredictable. Bearing that in mind, even if you're not everyone's cup of tea, you are someone's! Treat everyone with kindness because you have no idea what cross they are being made to bear.

ALWAYS look down at the street/sidewalk when walking. Someone's puppy or child may have utilized the space as a toilet and you may or may not step in it. There is also an inordinate amount of vomit that may compete with Bourbon during Mardi Gras. You notice these things when you spend 2.5 years staring at the street.

Grocery stores smell like durian. I don't understand the draw of it, but it is very popular. I have tried it, I do not care for it. The smell permeates everything in the store and if you're unlucky, your other fruit purchases as well.

You might surprise yourself with how adaptable you are. I did. I was pretty sure I wouldn't survive without Mac and Cheese and instead, I flourished. I also realized I was ready for some big life changes - I eat so many more raw foods, I cook with more vegetables than pasta, I drink more water than anything else, I do yoga at least twice a week. The lifestyle I always wanted to live I was more ready to embrace here because why not start over? It worked out for me and I love Macau for that.

AHHHH! Puppy Syndrome Over Semi-Retirement

Mom told me that I expect more of myself than anyone could achieve. She's right, but I also have to challenge myself to suck every last bit of experience and LIFE out of my life. I want to meet my maker happily, without a modicum of regret. So far, so good.

For example. I have lived overseas, travelled to ten different countries, accomplished a headstand ALL ON MY OWN in yoga, and saved a respectable amount of money for someone of my age - with no debt. I have a college degree and graduated from both college and high school with honors.

I want more. So much more out of my life. So many places to see, things to experience, books to read.

But for the next three months, while already racing past, my proverbial tail is wagging in anticipation of the entertaining things I am going to do during my semi-retirement. I totally have puppy syndrome about being "let out" of Macau into the "backyard" - Louisiana.

Big plans are in the works for my semi-retirement in 2013. For starters: I want to build a greenhouse in my parents' backyard. To grow things in this greenhouse, maybe even experiment with hydroponic gardening. Grow heirloom tomotoes that taste amazing - not like the GMO crap that we're expected to settle for these days. Learn to make cheese myself, make a pizza with my cheese and my tomatoes, perfect a dessert recipe (besides my carrot cake and chocolate chip cookie recipes). Read so many books. SO MANY BOOKS. To get this much closer to a handstand and a forearm stand. I want to scuba dive in Mexico, hell, to eat a real Mexican taco. In Mexico. To travel Europe. Maybe this year is the year I finally travel the Mediterranean. Why not? Semi-retirement and a pocket full of cash. I want to see it now, while I am able to enjoy every last second.

Maybe this is the year I travel without maps. {Erin, you should appreciate that one.} While we were in Shanghai, I spent two days obsessively searching for a map of Shanghai in English. They didn't have one. Anywhere. Needless to say my Type-A personality kicked into overdrive and I stressed about it.

JAZZ FEST. Strawberry Fest. French Quarter Fest. Maybe even Mardi Gras; it has been years since I went to Mardi Gras. I can't wait for king cake! And Ponchatoula strawberries. My dad's seafood gumbo and crawfish etouffee. Maybe he'll teach me to make them. I've tried. I failed.

I am a hippie at heart and I cannot wait to go to the Covington Farmer's Markets with Mom and Christina on Saturday mornings. Maybe Bitsy can come sometimes too. Playing in the garden with Mom, flying to OKC to help Dad renovate his new condo. I am going to be so busy I'll need a retirement from my retirement. Did I mention, also, that I want to go back to school?

Semi-Retirement is going to be so awesome I feel like my tail might fall off!

Macau, Here's My Notice:

So the real reason I've been quiet in September...

I am leaving THODW.

This is not a decision I have made lightly and it hurts my heart to make, but it has been done.

My last day at work is December 17th and I will be home just before Christmas.

Macau has come to be my home. I have lived here longer than I have anywhere else since leaving school some time ago. My friends are here, my life experiences are here, I have a chameleon, a hamster, a wonderful roommate, and, naturally, too much crap. I've had some of the best times of my life, made some of the best friends of my life, met some not so great people, had some really crappy times.

But for all the good and all the bad, Macau has been everything I needed to come to terms with myself as a person and to better understand that I don't need to plan everything out in life. Sometimes you make a two year commitment to work in a place halfway around the world, not wanting to leave home and everything you know, and you find that somewhere along the way your heart split into two places and you find yourself torn between "Home is where the heart is" and "Home is home".

Macau will always be such an important part of my life and I would not trade anything I have experienced here for all the gold in Asia (quite a lot, I bet).

Now for my Macau friends: Ya'll are amazing and without any of you, I would not have made it two and a half years out here, 7,000 miles away from home. When I got here, it felt like 20,000 miles because of the cultural difference. I have learned that maybe the most important thing about making a place home is the people. I cannot thank all of ya'll enough for everything. EVERYTHING. Letting me cry about being homesick, taking me home from the pub if I needed it, buying me a shot if I needed it, pulling me onto your lap and giving me a bear hug, all the hugs, all the bad jokes, the late night dancing, the karaoke, the dinners, the pool days, the amazing trips. I will literally remember them the rest of my life. And you.

I hope that this is not goodbye for all of you here because I suck at goodbyes. I will see ya'll all again. In New Orleans, in Australia, in London, maybe even in China, because I certainly don't know where I'm going to end up and that's ok. But when we do meet again, let's grab a beer (or several...), maybe some nachos, and tell old stories and laugh and remember how much we went through to create the biggest show in the world. It has its flaws, holy moly does it ever, but I'm pretty damn proud of what we did.

I am going to miss the hell out of all ya'll. Come visit me, I promise we have better beer in Louisiana! :)

SUPER quick update!

THODW turned two this weekend. I have a very difficult time wrapping my brain around the fact that I have been here for over two years already. And that the show it seemed like would never open, would never come together, would never look good OR make any sense not only has costumes, a through-line, and some pretty fantastic cohesion, but it has been an amazing two year-run. I hope it runs for another eight, just like it is supposed to!

Things were quite busy with parties this weekend and everyone has been in a really light, happy mood for the past week, which is always nice for a change to be around. We have been integrating 20 new cast members and dancers into the show to prepare for when our creation cast members take their leave. The new kids seem to be doing very well and their energy is refreshing to have around.

Change seems to be in the air, as the weather has turned mild and there seems to be a cool breeze coming in from the North. It brings with it grey skies and the hint of winter on the way. We have a two week dark coming up in November; my days are spent preparing for that and other major events.

We still dive every week and it is really nice to have that to look forward to at the end of my week. I love SCUBA and am so thankful for the opportunity to have learned it!

Have I mentioned recently how much I love life and my friends and family and the experiences I have had already in my not so old years???

LOVE IT.

Goodbyes Suck

Derek was the kind of person you don't meet every day. He's also the kind of person you can't ever forget. He was one of us, a carny trash expat living in Macau, running away with the circus.

He was loud. Boy, was he loud. You could hear him from every corner of the theater. He was different. Quite possibly the most unique person I have ever met. He was about 6'6", glasses, piercings, scar art, tattoos - some good, some...choice, dreadlocks, Texan. Rocked the argyle and the bandana. He always had a bandana. And the wife beater, because the heaters in this place are always on. He's the only person I have ever known to successfully wear a sweater vest without looking like a major tool. He always said hello, even when it was obvious his day was going a lot worse than your's. Always.

He loved Macau. And when I say he loved Macau, I mean he loved us. He knew what the rest of us can be so quick to forget: these people get in your blood and stay there. He got into a spot of trouble here and had to leave us before he was ready; he knew he had messed up and he took the consequences like a man. But he was always around. Crazy suspension photos on Facebook, a like for your status or photo, a snarky comment. I thought he was invincible. He wasn't in Macau as long as some, but he left us with more memories and funny stories than most.

And now he won't be around anymore.

Heart of gold, I swear.

The only Derek story I want to share is this: back in my first winter in Macau, we were leaving work as a group. I was wearing my pompom hat, braids, mittens with flaps on them, and my bright pink parka with my backpack. I'm sure I looked 12. We went tripping merrily through the casino on our way to the bar and the security guard stopped us. Derek was the only one who understood what this man was asking and said, "It's Ok. She's 18. She's with us." I could not have been more different than the rest of the group, and Derek made me feel right there that I was a part of something here in Macau.

Derek's love for Macau (re: us) was the subject of great debate Monday night after we learned of his passing and we finally realized, some of us, how lucky we are. I wish I could live in a bubble with some of the people I have met here for the rest of my life. I can't. Macau itself prevents that. But these people are my family. We live together, eat together, play together, and now we grieve together. Two years of my life with these people. In the trenches. Derek only had one year with us and he never forgot us. I hope I can do the same.

And if for some reason I go young, I want there to be no doubt: lift a corona for me at the pub (or a soda water with real lime - none of that lime cordial crap). Play Journey's Greatest Hits Live and as many 80s songs as you can think of. The good ones - hair bands, Queen, Springsteen, Whitney, etc,. I wish people would tell funny stories about me, laugh for me, cry for me - but not too many tears, because I would want to bring people together. Those of us left in Macau who knew Derek got together at the pub Monday night and lifted one up for him, told his stories, remembered the old days of Macau. It was nice, we don't really do that: just get the old crew together. That's the nature of our business: it's a revolving door for technicians. We like the new people, but sometimes you need someone who understands. We're never alone in this world. Not as long as there are people like Derek in it.

Godspeed Derek Hall Burford. You were a true original and your light in this world will be sorely missed.

Wanderlust

I have an undeniable urge to travel.

I feel unsettled knowing how enormous the world is and that I will only ever see a part of it in my lifetime. But I want that part to be as big as I can possibly make it.

That is one of the biggest reasons I do what I do. It enables me to see things, do things, experience things that I would never see or do otherwise. Some people dream all their lives of being able to travel. Their work fantasy is quitting their job and traveling. My job takes me those places inherently. I know how lucky I am. In my business, it is entirely possible to work for two years and take six months off to travel. You might even have people in other countries to visit!

Since I moved East, I have been to seven countries and countless cities I would never have made it to otherwise. I became a certified scuba diver and that introduced me to another entire world of possibilities.

Erin and I talked a few times about people in America who will never have their passport, and that number of people is staggering, I am sure. In the interest of fairness, they don't necessarily need it. The States is full of new experiences and places and is huge enough to spend a lifetime exploring, all on its own. In fact {after being born in Cali and growing up in Louisiana}, I spent two years traveling up the east coast and was content to experience DC, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, New York, Maryland, Virginia. I've spent countless hours in Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Texas, Georgia.  I have traveled the States: Colorado, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Tennessee, Rhode Island, Nevada, South Carolina, Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, West Virginia. By my count and memory, I am at 25 of the 50 states. But I am still discontented. I want to see them all.

When I moved to China, I realized how difficult my epic quest to see all the corners of the world will be. I want to see the sun set over the white buildings of Mykonos in Greece, visit the pyramids of Saqqara I studied in art history, experience the bazaars and coffee of Turkey, be amazed by the tulips of the Netherlands, feel the sand of a Croatian beach under my feet, eat my way through Italy while being awed by the thousands of years of history I studied in school being right in front of my face. Maybe even compare the country of Portugal to the Portugese colony of Macau and speak Spanish in Spain. How awesome would that be???

When I was little, my grandmother traveled all the time. She was an English teacher to foreign students at LSU for 30+ years. She had the travel bug too. I remember her loving Venetian glass, bringing me back keychains from all over: Turkey, Italy, France, Canada (I've never even been to Canada or Mexico!), Mexico, she loves Mexico! I want to be like my grandmother. Have wonderful adventures to tell my neices and nephews that I will one day have about. Maybe inspire them to see the world and not settle.

Having to choose places to see and go makes me unhappy, but I have to be practical. I am still young enough that I have time. I have no debt, no responsibilities. I have money saved from this job, and while I cannot spend it all, I can put aside a portion of those savings and have an adventure to go into the record books. Another one, for moving to China definitely qualifies as one of those.

So I plan. I dream. I lust after that road less traveled. Because this world was not built by traveling on a highway. It was forged by dreamers who dared to adventure. People like me who refused to believe the world ended where they knew it. People who constantly sought their next destiny. Why should we have only one?

For Mickey

I did not know Mickey Shunick. She was a friend of a friend. But I would like to take a heartbeat to salute her bravery and courage in the face of something I hope none of you ever have to face.

Mickey disappeared in Lafayette in May. My father is from Lafayette; my grandparents, uncle, cousins still live there. She was riding her bike home from a friend's house and vanished. About a week later, there was surveillance footage of her riding her bike on the street that night. She never made it home.

She was missing until last week, when her body was found in a cemetary about thirty miles outside of Lafayette; police were led there by her killer. A man who had killed before.

Mickey was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She fought for her life. She had mace and used it, she was smart, she did not panic, she was determined. She did everything she should and evil took her life away.

But I want everyone to know that she is remembered. There was a massive manhunt for her when she disappeared that did not let up. She was obviously loved and seems to have touched at least everyone in Louisiana through someone else, if not by her own hand.  Sometimes people are taken from us too soon and I do not want to live without everyone I love knowing I love them.

Things can change in a heartbeat. And it sounds so cliche but if you left the world today, would you be satisfied with how it ended? I know I wouldn't. But starting today, I no longer want to regret. I want to talk to my family as often as I can. I want my friends to know I love them, not think I am pissed off at them. I want my coworkers to know I appreciate the hard work they put in, even when I am a bear to work with.

So today, in Mickey's honor, I start living my life again. I can only hope to live it half as well as she did.

Uh Oh, I Feel a Soapbox Moment Coming On...

I have a secret. I'm not actually 18 anymore. I am of an age where people are getting married and having kids.  If we're being honest, my friends have been doing that for... A while now. Which is great!

For them.

I have never been the conventional girl. In high school and college, I was always busy doing something. I was in clubs, extra-cirricular activities, studying, working, going to football games with my dad. Because that was the way I liked it. That's the way I wanted to do things. I like being busy. I like the thrill of flirting from one extreme to the next. I like not having down time because when you have down time, you think.

But here's the caveat.

I have never pretended to be anything else.

I have always pushed myself, challenged myself. When I'm not, I'm not happy. I'm bored, useless, listless.  I thrive on no sleep, adrenaline rushes.  I work best under pressure. I know all of this about myself.

I have never wanted to be "settled down". I don't know if that means married, I don't know if that means kids. What I do know is that where I am right now is exactly where I need to be. And I relish that for what it is. One day, hopefully very far down the road, I will look back on all of my experiences and say "Hmm. That's what led me here."  I honestly believe that it will all fall into place like a well put together puzzle one day.

Sometimes I think my family must be disappointed in me. I wasn't content to stay home, in the South, get married, stand in a kitchen barefoot and pregnant, bakin' pies and washin' clothes.

Instead, I moved to Louisville, then DC, then halfway around the world to Macau. And though I hear the South calling me home, I resist, because I know that contentment lies therein. And I absolutely know just how dangerous a thing contentment can be.

Don't get me wrong, my family has never done anything but love and support me and help me move all the way to China if that's what I thought I needed to do. My mom always tells me how tired she is of moving me all over the world. That being said, she would do it again tomorrow if I asked her to.

So if I get a tattoo, if I dread my hair, if I dye those dreds hot hot hot pink, and then I pierce my ears all the way up the side, I'm not doing it because I want to buck the trend or rebel. I'm doing it because I want to and I want everyone to know that I'm not afraid of what this world thinks or of this life. We only get one on this earth as far as I know, and I want to live it right. My way or the highway.

Guess Who Has Two Thumbs

And is movin' and shakin'.

THIS GIRL.

I was super productive today.

I started on some progress because today was a "let's make progress" sort of day.  Let's just leave it at that. I have lots of plans.

Learning not one, but TWO languages. Well, learning one, re-learning the other.  Online classes - GENIUS.  New favorite, for sure.  I miss learning new things, so I'm super stoked about this whole being a student again concept.  Non-matriculating, but you never know where it might lead. Maybe I'll finish those minors in Spanish and Art History...

Looked up bridesmaid's dresses for Brother's wedding.  Picked out some styles I liked, sent them to Mom.  Shoes will obviously have to wait until I get there for the wedding, there will be no shoe shopping in China. Ever. Ever. Again.

Did a lot of paperwork. A lot. And emailing. Good emails.  Productive emails.

All of this whilst watching the Olympics and nursing a sick ear.  Diving made my ear very sad today and while it scared the living daylights out of me, it'll get better in a couple of days.  Worse than the ear pain from not being able to equalize on my ascent was the doctor sticking cotton bathed in alcohol up my nasal cavity without warning muttering in a barely distinguishable Portugese accent the entire time. Surprise! UGH THAT HURT.  Yes, it hurt a little, but you breathe better. Oh great, thanks then. IT HURTS. Jerk.

Better luck next time.

I'm also going to start planning an epic EuroRail trip.  I'm going to start being very busy very soon.  And I like it.

It's been a long time since anything lit a fire under me like this.  I feel really really good again. And hopeful and kinda crazy, good crazy, like I can do anything I want crazy.

It's about time.

July Wrap Up

July was kind of a tough month.  And by that, I mean the first two weeks were the worst since I moved out here.  I went absolutely mental and ended up breaking out in hives due to stress.

The lovely four bedroom apartment I had lived in since I moved here two years ago was sold, so Sean and I had to apartment hunt, which was pure, unadulterated torture in Macau, and then move, which was probably even worse because it's about one thousand degrees outside and moving in that is so not fun. Even if it is only six blocks from your old apartment. That being said, the new apartment is decent and I think we're settling in. I have a Chinese kitchen now, which is not so great, but I'll deal and then overcompensate when I come home and buy my own home.  In typical American fashion.

Then Erin moved home.  Holy moly do I miss my wife.  It's very very lonely in Macau when your bestie leaves and all of the sudden you're the only one on days again and no one can play because they work nights and your standing dinner date is all of the sudden... not standing anymore. I felt very pathetic and lonely for a solid couple weeks, but work keeps me busy and I don't feel quite so sorry for myself right now, but...  You know, still kinda.

The morning Erin left, I got hives. Totally charming. Thankfully, they are mostly gone and I need to remember I am prone to breaking out in hives in times of high stress.  Note to self.

The Olympics are on, so that's a huge distraction, somehow I end up with fully packed weekends even if I plan to have a weekend in, and we're slowly but surely settling into the new apartment.

We had a typhoon.  That was great. Lots of freak out over what equates to roughly a Category 1 hurricane.  I was less than impressed, but there was some good gusts of wind and lots of rain.  I don't know, I'm probably jaded after living through some pretty intense storms in LA.  I mean, I vividly remember standing outside in our front yard in the eye of Andrew and being amazed at the wall of clouds and how calm that center of the storm was.  And then that bitch Katrina that was certainly a watershed event in my life and the life of the Gulf Coast as a whole.  Eh well, it was something different, for sure.

30 Day Challenge

One of my friends here is a very very smart individual. Rich is almost too smart for his own good. Three weeks ago, I was having a drink at the pub with Rich and our friend The Gov when Rich decided we should all take a 30 day challenge as per the TED Talk ideal.  Our challenge: take the stairs at work for 30 days. There are only 8 floors at work that most people work on, so it seemed like a good idea at the time.  I work a lot on our basement floors and there are 4 of those, so about two days into the challenge, we realized the rules needed to be ammended...slightly. The new rules: first time you walk into the building - ALWAYS take the stairs.  If you're wearing pants, after the first climb you may take the elevator up. Down is not an option - Stairs.

The week we start tomorrow will be our last week of the challenge and my has it been eye-opening.

I plan my day much better and more efficiently now. If I am in need of a trip to B1, I think about all the things I might be capable of taking care of whilst I am down there. I do not spend half of my day waiting on an elevator that inevitably seconds before I pressed the button was on my floor, but has managed to slip away by the time I need it. It's much faster to just automatically take the stairs.

That being said, I will OF COURSE be more than pleased when I no longer am forced to take the stairs from B3 to L8. That is one long stair climb, ya'll.

The 30 Day Challenge, though, is a great practice in itself.  You take something you've been meaning to do or wanting to do and for 30 days, you do it. Pretty simple. Straightforward. No tricks, no hidden meanings.

Rich and I went to the movies with his lovely wife last night and afterwards, Rich and I discussed our next 30 Day Challenge. The next one is going to be tough for me, but that is the point of a "challenge". It'll probably make me feel uncomfortable sometimes and force me to think about a lot of things I may or may not (read: may) have been avoiding. But I am pretty excited about it and since I do not want to spoil the surprise ending, I will let you know when the next challenge begins.

Let me warn you, it's pretty good. Maybe you should get on board.

Beijing. Visit #2.

I just got back from an amazing trip.  I went to the Great Wall of China.

Crossing those Wonders of the World off the list!  I think that's actually only my first, but you have to start somewhere.

I went to Beijing last May with my mom and my brother, but we didn't have time to make it to the Great Wall.  We spent a couple days on the mainland and saw the Terracotta Army and the Forbidden City. Very quick.  On this visit, I spent some more quality time in Beijing.

Here are my notes from the trip:

So we decided to take a trip to the Great Wall of China.

Some of you may know it as the Alright Wall of China if you're familiar with Karl Pilkington.  If you aren't, you should be.  He's super funny.  Idiot abroad.  Hulu it.

We know it as the trip our friends didn't get to come on because zuji.com messed up our friends' booking and Hong Kong Airlines refused to allow them to rebook.  Our trip started out ok.  We got two taxis to the ferry, made it on the ferry even though the ferry was INSANE. Everyday in HK/Macau  life is a public holiday and today was no exception. There were literally hundreds of people queuing at the terminal. We made it to Central, got taxis to the Airport Express.

And then our luck ran out.

Sally and Laura accidentally booked student tickets and the jerk at the Hong Kong Airlines counter refused to let them rebook their flights. So now Rachael, Erin, and I are two men down. We'll still have fun, but man is that a bummer!

Also there is a screaming baby on this airplane acting as birth control two rows back.

And our flight is delayed two hours.

Nothing in China is easy. Ever.

After arriving at the hostel super late, we get settled in. Rachael and I drug ourselves and we all settle in to sleep.  It is now like 3am. We are awoken about an hour later as Yoda the caretaker attempts to settle a newly arrived backpacker into our now half empty room.  That did not go over well. I managed a defeated sigh and covered my head.  Rach and Erin managed barely comprehensible low rumbling roars before the backpacker and Yoda muttered apologies and retreated. It truly must have been terrifying for all involved because if it sounded to me like a zombiepocalypse, I can only imagine what it sounded like to them.

We didn't get out of bed until ten on Tuesday and decided to plan.  We planned, then decided to fit everything humanly possible into our day.  We started out sweating at the Forbidden City with thousands of other people and making our way through that rather quickly. Too many people and too damn hot.  Then we ventured to the silk store for a little shopping. Success!  After that, we decided to gamble and make our way across Beijing to the Summer Palace.  So so so worth it. Loved it. Still lots of people, but plenty of shade and very beautiful surroundings.  A must for anyone who finds themselves with a modicum of time in Beijing.  Much more worth the effort than the Forbidden City.

We now decide to venture by taxi back across the city of Beijing around 645pm.  Thinking traffic must have dissipated at least a little by now. How wrong we were.  We spend two hours in this poor man's taxi in bumper to bumper traffic.  We drove by the entire city, including the 2008 Olympic stadiums, but to his credit, the driver never stopped the taxi and told us to get out like I kept thinking he would do. He was much more pleasant than I would have been in that situation.  We finally made it to the arts district, which was lovely!, and had dinner. After trying for hours and hours to find an ATM that would accept our BNU cards, we found a Bank of China that accepted our cards and we were flush again.  Sadly, the night market had closed 20 minutes prior to our locating it. So Rach and I instead purchased a painting from a very friendly future Chinese Picasso who was only to happy to sucker a couple gweilos into purchasing a painting. Exhausted, we returned to the hostel to have a beer and a shower before going to bed for our 5am wake up call for our trip to the Great Wall.

Hah.

We sit down to have our beer and a friendly American, who has just been in HK for the Dragon Boat races, comes over and asks us to play a game.  We warily agree because it has been a LONG day, and are joined by two Germans and a Chinese girl.  The game is similar to a Western style Clue and is slow to start, but once we all get involved, it's 3 hours later, we're getting kicked out of the hostel common room, and we have succeeded in getting the Germans and the American drunk.  An excellent time was had by all. I suppose this is why people stay in hostels. Maybe worth it. Maybe.

Today we were up at 530am, dressed, and in our cab by 6.  After turning around briefly for some idiot who forgot their camera (me!), we were on our way to the Great Wall.  And while the pollution wasn't the best it has been while we were here, it was ok and not too hot and the wall is deserted at 730am.  Amazing. We climbed and climbed and took an obscene amount of ridiculous pictures. Totally worth all the stress involved. So glad I came.

We followed that up with Tiannanmen Square and now it is time for Erin and I to take our train out to Shanghai and Rachael to head back to Macau. Kinda ready to get back home and start moving, but the adventure continues!

Happy Father's Day!

I haven't had much to say recently, the show's been dark and I've been incredibly busy.  That about sums it up.  I do, however have something to say about my dad.

My dad is a pretty cool guy. He once got in trouble in high school for dancing on the tables in the library.

And then he grew up, married my mom, and had kids.

My dad worked on oil rigs when we were kids, 7 on - 7 off.  It was a pretty traumatic experience for a worrier like me.  When these are the facts of your life, you pick things up in the paper: explosion on oil rig, helicopter accident, boat accident, etc.  I worried all the time as a kid.  Constantly.  I mean, I still do, but about different things.

He got sick once, after a rig inspection, on a helicopter ride.  Worst nightmares sometimes do come true.  I was away from home, living in Kentucky.  I was terrified and scared and for 3 or 4 days waited by my phone for someone to figure out what was wrong with him because no one seemed to be able to pinpoint what exactly was wrong.  It was the worst week of my life and I didn't feel better until he'd had surgery and I was able to finally go home to help bring him home from the hospital.  I learned then and there just how much my family means to me and how lost I would be without them.

My dad is an awesome dad.  He taught me so much about life and living.  He taught me to fish, to peel crawfish, to love my Cajun heritage, to embrace the South, to work hard, to want more for myself, that all that hard work makes the spoils of victory taste so much better.  He taught me the unadulterated joy of watching your team win a football game in person, to understand the rules of the game so I would know what I was talking about.  The value of money is something my father drilled into me from a very early age.  Responsibility for yourself and your own actions.  That tough love is unpleasant, but it is always love and sometimes it is the only way to get your point across.

He's not perfect: I have his work ethic and sometimes it was hard to watch him leave our family vacations because he didn't feel like he could be away from work that long.  But he did teach me that it's ok to be away from work and work will continue without you.  It will also be there for you when you get back.

I learned from him the importance of food.  True Southern comfort food.  And there is nothing like a pot of seafood gumbo to cure all your ills or your hurts.

He would let me fall on my face to teach me a lesson, but if I ever need a plane ticket home, I know he would give me one in a heartbeat.

My dad is the best dad I have and I could never ask for a better one!

What I Do. Not So Normal.

I complain.  A lot.  Full stop.

I would like to take this moment not to complain, but to explain why I love what I do.

I fell for theater when I was little and started a long-term serious love affair with the art when I was 14.  I never looked back. I turned to the technical side when I was 17 and have done it ever since.

My first "big girl" job took me halfway around the world to China.  Some people would hate that.  Trust me, at times, I hated it too.  It's actually pretty cool and I've gotten to experience an entire world that most of my peers will never know.

My life is NEVER boring.  There is always some sort of drama going on.  Someone's always got a problem, someone always has it worse than me, et al.  There is always someone doing something or having a party or a get-together or a field trip.  How can you not love that?

We "play" for a living.  It is serious and you have to know when to be serious and when to let loose, but once those important distinctions have been made, the world is your oyster.  We work so very hard, but when it comes down to it, we really make up for how serious we have to be with jokes and games and alcohol.  Fun is just as much of an art-form as the acrobatic theater we do every night.  And boy do we take our fun seriously.

I don't have to wear a suit to work.  In fact, I can wear whatever I want to work, as long as I can work in it.  I have a homeless day once a week where I wear my ripped to shreds jeans, patched tennis shoes, a tank top, and my ripped sweatshirt.  And no one looks two ways at me because they don't care. On that note, I don't have to pretend to be someone I am not because if you're not different, you don't belong in the business.  We have such a mesh of personalities and ideals and goals and lifestyles and we work because we love our differences instead of fighting over them.  Who cares what someone else believes or thinks as long as they embrace your version of the story instead of hating you for it.  To continue this vein: I don't have to sit in an office or cubicle all day.  If that doesn't constitute a win, then I'm not sure what does.

Our business is not to fool people.  Or take them for a ride.  Our only aim in what we do is to entertain people, to make them laugh, to make them forget about their lives for an hour or two.  Nothing permanent, nothing fleeting.  But how could you dislike making people feel good?  It's hard to remember, but what we do is universal and because there is no dialogue, we rely on what people feel to   make a connection.  That is something you will never get from a regular 9-5 job.

Macau. Macoma. Part 2.

Some Things I've Learned Whilst Living in China Part 2:

1.  I am a shameless glutton for American TV.  No matter what the program, I can probably sit and watch it for hours.  So far, I have seen every episode of Criminal Minds, Law and Order: SVU, CSI, How I Met Your Mother, Entourage, Weeds...  Even more than movies, I am a TV loser.  With all the time I have on my hands in my evenings, it's good to be busy.

2. When you have a big night out, the only chance you have at being functional the next day is to have McDonald's before you sleep.  It's been proven time and again.  No ramen, no noodles, no pizza, McDonald's.  Trust me.  We have done scientific research.  Even if you have to go way out of your way to get it, do it.  You can thank me later.

3. If you live near the equator, it is important to have a solid collection of tank tops.  You can never have too many, no matter what anyone says.  For example: I have around 65/70.  I'll count again when we move.  I have my work tanks, my layering tanks, my dressy tanks, etc.

4. Moving is never fun.  No matter where you live.  Thankfully, it can be alleviated by drinking heavily and putting everything off to the last minute, which is possible in China!  It doesn't behoove you to start the search more than 2 weeks before you have to move because of the high turnover rate of apartments, which is brilliant.  Win!

5. Americans are not well liked outside of the States.  I cannot tell you how many times I have been in or around a conversation that ends in bashing the US or some derogatory generalized statement about Americans as a population.  In my friends' defense, they always qualify their statements with a "No offense" or "You're an exception".  Doesn't really make it any easier to sit through, though, does it?

6. People suck and they always let you down.  No matter what country they are from or where you are in the world, people are fallible.  If you can get past that, you'll be fine.  But if you can't, you're in serious trouble.  You think you know someone, think again.  You can never really know someone.  Especially if they don't want you to.

7. Life goes on without you.  Move 7500 miles away, and life back home keeps going.  Scary, right?  I always wanted to believe that I was the center of my family's world.  Turns out, they miss me, but they do just fine without me.  I suppose that goes both ways, though.

8. When I moved out here at 24, I thought I knew who I was.  Two years later at 26, I can admit freely that I have NO idea who I am or where I'm going or where I want to be going.  Do we ever really know?

9. Traveling internationally is stressful.  Take a chill pill or it can ruin your vacation.  Fact.  On that note:

10. The world is enormous.  Embrace it, see it.  We have so much to learn from other cultures.

Some Things in Life, You Just Know.

For example: I know that even though I wasn't born there, I am as Southern as a girl can get.  I know things like sweet tea, "ya'll," flip-flops, pearls, big hair, Southern drawls, seafood, small towns, porches and porch swings and rockin' chairs.  I know how to drink out of Mason jars and will continue my quest for the perfect handled Mason jar mug and then buy a hundred of them so that I never run out.


I know that my absence from the South is temporary.


I also have always known that my brother would get married before I did.


My brother is that type of person. Trusting, nurturing, loving.  Patient, even-tempered.  Calm.  He is everything I am not.  About as nurturing and loving as I get is with my pets.  I am certainly not "even-tempered" or calm.  I have my father's fiery Cajun temperment and I believe the first adjective most people give when describing me is "sassy."  Ya'll, I got a MOUTH on me.


But I love my brother because he is everything I always wanted to be.  And everything I know I never will be.  Because let's face it: I'm pretty settled in my ways.


I am writing this after having spoken to him this morning (for him, this evening for me - 12 hour time difference).  I won't post until I wake up and the news has hit facebook.  He's proposing tonight and I want to remember how I felt at this particular moment knowing his new journey will take him away from us but bring him so much joy and that he will never truly be that far away because he's our boy.


I would not trade us for any other person in the world though, because we grew up together and now I will have the honor and the priviledge of watching him marry the girl he dreamed of and the girl we could only have hoped he would one day find.


We could not be prouder of or happier for the two of them.


I am a selfish person.  I am also rubbish with words in person. Or on Skype, or whatever.  Believe it, don't believe it.  It doesn't matter.  It's a truth.  What I want to say never seems to come out the way I want it to.  Ever.


So here's another go for my little brother:


Dear Quentin,


You've been my brother for almost 25 years.  We took baths together when we were little and I slapped you in the face with a wet washcloth.  I dressed you in my dresses and my patent leather shoes.  We played in moving boxes and you bit me so hard I screamed (I probably deserved it.)  You played ball with our great-grandmother's heirloom tree topper (hopefully not the same year I stepped on the German hand blown glass ornament).  I'll never forget you singing in your underwear with your little red guitar in your room at the house on Rosedown, "Rainin' on my Sunshine Train."  I watched you play soccer and you watched me dance. We got told "secrets." We shot guns together, we fished together, we churched together.  We went to school together.  The scariest moment of my life (aside from my car wreck) was the day you were so so so sick at LSU and I had no idea how to make you feel better.  Waking up when I was 11 and you were 9 to a brand new baby sister.  Countless beach vacations, Disney vacations, proms, movie nights at the house on Sherry.


I've rarely been the best big sister and for that I apologize.  My intentions weren't always bad... ; )  I'm proud of you and all that you have accomplished.  Our paths in this maze of life could not be more different, but you will always be my only little brother.  


One day I will get to tell your children all the awesome stories I know about you.  I cannot wait for that moment and I know that one day we'll be like Mom and Wick and Keeney.  Laughing for hours over the same stories because they're our's and they never get old.


Until then, remember, "You're the only one I've ever believed in..."


Love, 
Alex

News.Flash.

I am a Southern girl.

I know.  Try to pick your jaw up off the floor.

Both of my parents spent the majority of their lives in Southern Louisiana.  The only one out of the five of us who was actually born in Louisiana, though, is our baby.  Lucky duck.  Quentin and I were born in California, the parents were born on military bases in Texas and Florida.

My father's job took my parents to SoCal when they were newly married and the oil business was at its height there.  They had two kids and then opportunity came knock-knock-knockin' and they followed it home to Southern Louisiana, where they stayed.  Family was close, work was convenient and plentiful, and who wouldn't want to come home to a place that just gets in your blood and doesn't let go of her iron-clad grip on your heart?

I consider myself fortunate to have grown up where I did.

Mandeville has its faults, please don't get me wrong.  I know its many sins.  12 years non-stop in the same place will do that for you.  But we never wanted for anything.

Being Southern is something I always took for granted until I was 20 and Hurrican Katrina came ripping through our back door.  I never looked back and from that day forward, I have spent countless hours coming to terms with my heritage and who I am and what it means to me to be from an area that millions of people feel like they know.

I relish where I'm from because it is such a huge part of who I have become and who I want to be when I close this ex-pat chapter in my life.

New Orleans is ubiquitous when people think of parties, carnival, food, music, tragedy.  Our city has a tumultuous past and what promises to be a future full of more of the same.

I will never forget the summer after Katrina when I was working at a tiny summerstock in the backwoods of Pennsylvania and one of the actors went on a rant about how he thought it was ignorant and foolish to campaign to rebuild a city in such a precarious and naive position: below sea level, on a notoriously tempestuous couple of bodies of water.  I was stunned and all I could say was, "It's their home.  How would you feel?"

John Besh, a New Orleans chef, said something that stuck with me: "I don't think New Orleans has a place for people that are lukewarm.  I think you're either with us or against us.  You have a city here made of people who want to be here and that makes all the difference in the world."

Preach.

Right after the Hurricane, my mother and I's favorite Times-Picayune columnist, Chris Rose, wrote with amazing clarity and honesty about our situation and the mindset of the people.  He struggled publicly down the dark path that so many of us internalized.  The anger at the human error for letting it happen, the hopelessness, the darkness, the despair.  And then he began to pull out of it and compiled his columns into a book that I purchased at the New Orleans airport on a trip back to Pennsylvania.  He had this to say about our culture:

"I suppose we should introduce ourselves: We're South Louisiana. You probably already know we talk funny and listen to strange music and eat things you'd hire an exterminator to get out of your yard.  

We dance even if there's no radio. We drink at funerals. We talk too much and laugh too loud and live too large, and, frankly, we're suspicious of others who don't. 

Everybody loves their home, we know that. But we love south Louisiana with a ferocity that borders on the pathological. Sometimes we bury our dead in LSU sweatshirts. 

We're resilient. After all, we've been rooting for the Saints for thirty-five years. That's got to count for something. Okay, maybe something else you should know is that we make jokes at inappropriate times.  

But what the hell."

That stuck with me. To this day it is the most honest explanation of my home that I can offer anyone.  I own an LSU sweatshirt that may be my most prized article of clothing.  It was my mother's when she attended LSU.

I want to be buried in it.

Maybe now you understand a little better who I am.  Or even maybe a little of why I am the way I am.  Why when people make fun of "ya'll" I argue a little louder in favor of it and use it as many times in a sentence as I can.  Why when I speak on the phone with home, I get in touch with my roots and the Southern drawl gets more pronounced.  Why everything I have done since the day I left my home has been bringing me one step closer to returning.  Why people say they love their home and I just smile with the knowledge that they don't know what they're missing.  {I know what they are missing and they are better off not knowing.}  Why I have known since I was 18 that I would one day retire in New Orleans, but that I would have to travel the world before I would fully appreciate the Dirrty South.

And oh honey do I appreciate it.

I leave you with another Chris Rose quote from another of his post-K articles -

"She is a New Orleans girl and New Orleans girls never live anywhere else. And even if they do, they always come back.

That's just the way it is."

Wait, Hold the Phone.

When you live however many ungodly miles away from home like I do, you have to get used to the idea that life is going to go on for those you love back home regardless of whether you speak to them or not.

For example:

I am terrible at keeping in touch.  Just a glance through the publication dates on my blog will give you some idea if you don't already have one.  At the risk of sounding like a broken record, it's not that I don't care, I think about everyone back home every single day.  I am simply very easily distracted.  And also the world revolves around me (I sometimes would like to think, as I am often accused) so it is very easy for me to believe life stops when I am not around.  And then I get phone calls.

These phone calls are some of the worst you can get when you are this far away from home:

"Now, honey, first of all, everyone's fine..."

Those words can incite only one reaction: commence panicking.

I have been on the recieving end of this phone call twice now, only once have I recieved a worse one.  The first time I recieved this call, I lost my marbles.  Never in my life would I have imagined how terrible phone calls can be when you can do absolutely NOTHING about the situation.  This phone call went somewhat better.  The first call we didn't know what was wrong for about a week, I think.  It seemed like a week, it may have only been three days or so.  This call, there was something wrong, but the situation had already been resolved.  It does not make the words "heart attack" any easier to hear.  It just furthered my resolve that I need to go home and spend some quality time with my family because holy moly do I miss the hell out of them, especially right now.

Amazing how a phone call can change your life so dramatically, is it not?

The first time I was ever knocked off my proverbial bar stool by a phone call, my great grandmother passed away the day before I started my first ever big girl job.  She had been sick for a long time and she hadn't been the woman we knew when we were younger for a few years either.  Dementia is a sick and twisted way to go.  But she had her clear moments and I will never forget when I lived with Bitsy (my grandmother) and Mommie Ree and Mommie Ree had one of her bad nights.  But then her mind cleared and we talked about her rose garden and what kind of roses she had in it.  That woman loved flowers and had some beautiful gardens at her old house in Lake Charles.

Not attending that funeral was a decision made for me and while I appreciate not having to make that decision, it didn't make staying in Louisville rather than travelling back home any easier.

Nor was that first "your loved one is sick" phone call.  Same year, coincidentally, a couple months after Mommie Ree's passing.  Staying in Louisville until after the diagnosis, surgery was agonizing.  I did get to take an emergency leave for a couple days to reassure myself and gain peace of mind.  Still hard.

This time, home was not really an option again.  Everyone's fine, but I hate that helpless feeling.

Phone calls like that make you remember just how fragile life really is and if I were to kick it tomorrow (remember: Southern.  We are nothing if not inappropriate: don't hold it against me...) where would I want to be?  Who would I want to have around? What would I want to have done?  Said?  Not said?

And Just Like That

The long awaited weekend is over.  We start a new schedule tomorrow: 830-530.  I'm not complaining as I get out of work earlier and admittedly my favorite schedule is the 7am to 430 pm shift because of how early I get out.

This weekend was so nice.  We finished season 7 of Weeds: it was a shocker.  Fish tacos were even better the second time around with our vodka lemonade drinks. We went to bed early to be ready for the pool on Tuesday.  The pool was amazing.  Spent a solid four hours there soaking up some much needed vitamin D and heat because working in a windowless icebox all week can really grate on the soul.

Dinner at Lemongrass (Thai) with my three best Macau friends and then wandering to the OTT until approximately 2am to hang out with other amazing Macau friends who are making their way to Belgium this weekend.  I really will miss Courtney whilst she's living it up in Lint.  Erin and I got McD's after which is the only reason I was functional today to pay rent and pick up a package which turned out to be our eviction notice.

We have two months to find a new apartment.  Ugh.  I so don't want to move.  But we "grownups" have to do many things we do not wish to.  So apartment hunting we will go.

I also had to look up tax information because my first round of taxes determined I owed the IRS an obscene amount of money.  It was paid, but I disputed.  Turns out there was a misunderstanding about the nature of my employment and I didn't really owe the government that much money.  Now I have to figure out how to ammend my taxes and get that money back.  I may be able to put a downpayment on that house I am in love with after all.  Wouldn't that be nice?

What a weekend.  Hopefully this week flies by because next weekend, I want to do more of the same.

Things To Look Forward To:

1. This weekend.  The pool.  BEYOND excited about some Vitamin D and my back issues of People magazine (courtesy of Kitty Manuel).  And Erin Roderick.  She doesn't read at the pool which is why I'm bringing People.  Because we all know how Boracay went.  For those who don't: {Erin: Hey are you guys really reading?  Me and Rachael: Yes.  Erin: ...Now?  Me and Rachael: Yes.  Erin: ......Now?  Me and Rachael: Sigh. No...}  And that's why we love her.

2. Friday night (Monday for normal people).  Lillith Fair continues with Taco Pescados parte Dos.  AND some chocolate peanut butter cookies.  And maybe a special drink for the occasion as well.

3.  Friday night (entertainment edition). Finishing Season Seven of Weeds.  Our favorite.

4. This weekend.  Staying home all weekend except for paying rent.  Yes.

5. Nga Tm's this weekend. An afternoon/evening in Coloane with friends, food, and Casal Verdhe.  Because who DOESN'T love that stuff???  Shaping up to be a fine weekend indeed.

6.  Having a lie in/Templeton Day this weekend. (See previous post for clarification re: Templeton Day)

7. Dive inspection Monday to kick off the weekend with a wetsuit of my very own courtesy of the Aquatics Department (Thanks ROB!!!)

Man, after this weekend, next week (back to work) is going to be a huge let down.  But as a soldier of fortune, I will march on.  Getting ready for the next one...

Living for the Weekend.

This was my first weekend in a long time where I had time to have a lie in.  Lie-ins are the future.  We used to call them "Templeton Days" growing up.  After the rat from Charlotte's Web.  We were allowed something like one per summer, maybe more often than that, I can't remember that much, where we were allowed to stay in bed all day in our pajamas and watch movies and just be lazy in general.  Now that I'm an adult, I can have TWO Templeton Days a week if I want to (because I am considered an adult), only to call them lie-ins is more adult like.  So today I had a lie-in.  I slept til 1030, which for me is SUPER late, and then decided I didn't even want to go to the pool to enjoy the sunshine.  I stayed in my airconditioned bedroom in my super comfy bed and watched Gone With the Wind.  I am ashamed that as a Southern girl it has taken me this long to watch said movie, but it has.  I am pleased to say it was well-worth the wait, although it didn't have today's typical Hollywood ending, which I appreciated.  Interesting, isn't it, how as society has become more and more "politically correct" and "socially concious" our movies stopped having real life endings and began having unrealistic lofty endings.  Oh this world.

I did interrupt my Templeton Day to pay our electric bill, even though it's not due till next week!, and go grocery shopping, because I do have to eat lunch tomorrow.

Yesterday in Hong Kong, I was productive enough for two days I think.  I had new pages put in my passport at the US Consulate, which was uber productive as I was almost out of pages and now I have two new sets, at least!  Yippee!  Then I sat in the Hong Kong Botannical Gardens with Erin for three hours waiting for my pages to be ready.  Following that was our eye appointment, where not only did I have a thorough eye examination, I got some new glasses that I am super excited to wear.  They are super bright and though not hot pink, still colorful.  I lurve them.

I also bought two new books to read with my new glasses.  Such a productive day it makes me tired just thinking about it.  And now, I should retire because tomorrow starts a new week.  Already looking forward to spending next weekend by the pool, because it is time for Erin and I to begin our Hard Rock season!