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.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
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!
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!
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
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!
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!
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
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.
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.
Monday, June 4, 2012
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
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
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