throw the careful into crazy

Somehow holidays always sneak up on me. It´s like, I know that the holiday is coming and I know that February fourteenth is just another day, like yesterday was the thirteenth and tomorrow will be the fifteenth, but somehow a holiday makes the entire day FEEL different. After living for several months in a country where most of your holidays aren´t celebrated, I have realized this is even more true than I ever previously thought. Spain doesn´t particularly celebrate Valentine´s Day, and considering that it is 6:30 in the morning here, I have literally no clue what is in store for the rest of my day other than what´s written in my calendar: work and Spanish class. Though I feel it will be difficult to top my Valentine´s Day post from last year (read it here), I would like to make an effort, doing so with less effort.

Listen up: here.

I remember what I was doing last year and how it truly doesnt feel like 365 days have passed.
I remember Valentines Day in high school, waiting to see how many carnations I would get at lunch, who they would be from and what they would say.
Valentines Day in elementary school was always my least favorite, even if there were arts and crafts and chocolate involved. Lets be honest, there was always one kid that I didn´t like and I didn´t think deserved to get a valentine from me. Okay, who am I kidding, there were always at least three or four kids I felt that way about.
I remember a Valentines Day when I walked into a room with my favorite flowers and still, to this day, the most beautiful gerber daisies I have ever seen. I was so happy and I was so in love.
Last year, I was drug to that atrocious Valentine´s Day movie. It wasnt atrocious for any reason other than it was a sappy chick flick, and I strongly dislike these movies. My movie pick this year would be one the what feels like hundreds of Oscar nominees I haven´t yet seen.
I miss those little notes that just say, "hey, I love you!" from a friend stapled to a cheap $1 flower guaranteed to barely survive the entire day.

How should I inspire you today, on a day when you should be bringing to the attention of someone that you love that you love them? Well, unfortunately I don´t have much inspiration, so I am hoping you find some in this wonderful song by Bob Schneider (see some of my favorite lyrics in pink below). It´s my Valentine´s Day gift to you, regardless of if youll be curled up next to someone later, if youll be curled up in your cozy bed with a good book or if youll be spending time with friends and/or some combination of all of the above.

Here´s what I know, most definitively: there is something right about you and me. 
There is no reason to think that this black cloud I feel hanging over me isnt on its way out of town.
When the whole world falls into the sea, Ill still be clutching tightly onto the friendships that I treasure so dearly and that have successfully brought me this far. And we will be living ever after, happily. Of this, I am confident.
Despite creeping fear that its risky, I hope we can spur each other onto diving in whole-heartedly, even if it means potential heartbreak, just for the chance of something great and better than any expectations. Because, let´s DO IT. Come out with me tonight, come out with me baby. Let´s throw the careful into crazy. We can be like, good times that haven´t happened yet, but WILL. We can do what we wanna do.
Hell, make a fire, gotta burn a few...
Dream stealing is no crime. We´ll get there before you know.
Maybe discontentment is born from half-assing it and straddling the middle ground, living in the boring comfort zone. And that´s no good because...

We ain´t got no time to waste, 

we got too much life to taste. 

zebras don't exactly change their stripes

"with every sun that sets, I am feeling more like a stranger on a foreign shore with an eroding beach disappearing from under me... i always fall in love with an open door

with a horizon on an endless sea as i look around at the ones who are standing right in front of me. "

 -Death Cab for Cutie, My Mirror Speaks

Turned onto this amazing blog by a sorority sister, I have been enthralled with this random stranger's journey.
I cannot help but feel envy as I search the pages of photos and stories nor can I ignore the similarity between myself and this person who I will never meet. My lust for travel cannot be matched, must less understood by a majority of the people that I know. But it goes beyond that. It's not exactly something I can describe with the limiting conventions of language. I stumbled upon a page asking, "How do we know when it's time to go home?" And for a solid hour or two, I pondered this exact question.
The concept of home, however strange with an ever-changing location and perhaps evolving definition.
Where is my home? Is that where I am, home? In a large suburban house full of nothing except junk, antiques, multiple china patterns, stuff and lurking memories around every corner of tears, drunken escapades, hugs, conversations lasting until after sunrise, nights spent sound asleep and nights spent tossing and turning without sleep at all.
Surely, I am still in search of home. I could find and make home out of anywhere. Home is where the heart is and my heart is fractions across the entire world. Part of it is in Vienna. Part of it is in California. Part of it in Alabama. Part of it has to be saved for wherever I end up in the future. Won't where I attend law school, where I practice law, where I work, where I raise a family all be considered, "home"?
Or maybe, I am just confused and little do I know that my suitcase heart is just a girl waiting on a slow-pony home? Back to here.
It is my intention to spend the next year answering this question. When it is time to go home versus when you cannot take it with you. Although, I liked one response that said something along the lines of, it is time to go home when you are more inspired and thrilled at the thought of comfort and stability than of the next adventure or new experience. Will that sentiment ever fill my body? Certainly, at this moment, the opposite is true. And I suppose that is why I am on the front-end of a year of travel instead of on the other end.

As the day of my departure back to a country where I believe I left a small portion of my heart encroaches, more and more people are asking, "what are you afraid of?" or "are you starting to freak out?"
I could not answer it better than my new best friend, Daniel elegantly expressed here.
My favorite part highlighted in blue and Ctrl-C, Ctrl-V'ed below:

“Daniel, I’m so excited to see where you will go and who you’ll meet and what you will eat. But to be honest, I’m also really curious to hear about your fears. I want to know what they are and how you’ll navigate them.”

When it comes to questions posed to me about my trip, the popular inquiry is about my destinations or my trajectory, which makes perfect sense considering a travel-based project such as mine. But for Ashley, as she admittedly jostles with her own big life decisions, she simply wants a reference point from someone else who is in the flux of reconfiguring life.

                                                                             How does one deal with the fear of change?

There shall be no shame in asking this question.

he goes onto say this: 

There are certain fears that one might infer when pondering the idea of long-term international travel. Many of these fears I recognize, but for one reason or another do not resonate on any sort of debilitating level. For instance, I’m not specifically afraid of being lonely, for loneliness has been present when I was not traveling. I’m not afraid of having my camera or computer or personal items stolen, I have mentally prepared myself for this to occur at some point during the journey. I’m not afraid of being hungry or without shelter, as I have a general faith that my fellow humans will provide for me at my most vulnerable moments. I’m not afraid of being hijacked and murdered by disgruntled Columbian terrorists because, well, I’m not planning on going to Columbia. I generally believe that anything tragic that could happen to me on the road could also happen to me (in some form or another) crossing the street in my hometown.

So what are the fears?

My greatest concerns revolve more around what will happen to me after my travels. These fears are most relatable, I feel. Such as, how will I financially support myself in the future? Who will take care of me if I become permanently ill? Will I ever reestablish the wonderful and illusive trifecta of employment, apartment and friends I had somehow been fortunate to obtain in Montreal before leaving? How do I deal with all the unknowns of life?

I guess what I’m arriving to is the idea that travel is not that scary. But life is.

And if I am forced to really focus on travel-related fears, I suppose there is one great concern. It reads like this: In the “me-centric” pursuit of this dream, I fear the dynamics of my relationships with family and friends will change. I’m afraid that this absence is asking too much from them. 

then, he ends with this:

So, I move forward. Putting relationships to the test. Prioritizing “individual” over “community.” Wondering who will still be cheering me on after this journey. Breaking my mother’s heart, once again. Feeling intuitively guided, and making few apologies for my decisions.

And in my moments of self-doubt and wondering if I’m making the right life decisions, it helps to bring out the old “scale of life.” Each time I balance the concerns of leaving versus the potential personal profits, when I weigh the prospective gains against the conceivable costs, the scale keeps pointing to a simple (minimally fear-laced) sentiment:

Go. For. It.

and excitedly, this marks the end of my alphabet challenge. in case you missed it, the last 27 posts have begun with a letter of the alphabet starting with A and ending with this one, Z. it was not an easy task, but it was done. 

umbrellas rendered useless when it actually rains

"she may be young, but she only likes old things.
she loves the natural light, captured in black and white.
she sees mirages and mountain ranges, within a blink of her eyes it changes back to the open plains.
                                                                     oh no, she can't explain.
i cry out love, 'keep your arms around me. 
                                 i am a bird that's in need of grounding.
                                                        i'm built to fly away, never learn how to stay.'
the night is gonna fall and the vultures will surround you.
when you're looking in the mirror, what you see is gonna to astound you.
but all these lines and grays refine, they are the maps of our design of what began on a Monday morning.
and all the glow of you from inside the room, is burning on inside of you."
-Death Cab for Cutie, Monday Morning

and words are futile devices

you know, sometimes there just are not words. sometimes words can't accurately express thoughts or feelings or emotions. there are times when that emotion is overwhelming and language does not, cannot fill in the vast gap between what the heart is experiencing and what the mind is attempting to make sense of. usually, when these things happen i turn to music, lyrics, quotes and borrow advice from friends. i depend on dear friends understanding me well enough to where i can just exist and they can read my mind. clearly, that doesn't always work out. in the light of news about some pretty intense tragedies in the past few days, i am reminded of the immobile and helpless feeling of having no words. no words to miraculously fix the broken heart. words that sound so convincing even said with the greatest confident voice mustered: "it's going to work out somehow" but instantly implies a hesitant expression and underlying uncertainty for the ears receiving the platitude. for other friends, i am aware of the fear in the air and i do not have words that coalesce that fear. i just do not. for others, i have found that i do not have words to substantially thank or demonstrate my immense gratitude for all they do for me.
on a separate but related note, i have discovered this past week in particular that i do not possess the language skills to describe what i am feeling. that's really hard for me to do. credit to Sufjan Stevens for the blog title and for setting the mood for my reverie. if you're actually a dedicated reader and you looked up the video and listened to the whole song and are now reading into who i would say this song to, please pick up the phone and call me before making assumptions. but as with always, if i wasn't fully dedicated to the lyrics, the artist and the song, it wouldn't be in a post.
in place of my own words to respond to heartache and tragedy, i offer one of my favorite quotes ever:

"when there are no words... know that the silences are carrying the thoughts and prayers of all who love you." (dawn dais)

and in place of my own words to respond to fear (whatever that may be), this is what i offer. some inspiration. and truth.

You gain STRENGTH, COURAGE and CONFIDENCE by every experience in which you really stop to look FEAR in the face... DO the thing you think you CANNOT do. (Eleanor Roosevelt)

The next thing to do is take some advice from Peter Bradley Adams and gather up the people you love and embrace them. hold them in your arms. and together, figure it out.

gather up in the arms of your pity

the sick, the depraved, the desperate, the tired

all the scum of our weary city

gather up in the arms of your love

those who expect no love from above

I ask you this, which way to turn?

I ask you this, which sin to bear?

which crown to put upon my hair?

I do not know, I do not know...

I wait to take the hand of love, with every one you gather up

I wait to take the hand of love,

come every one, come gather up

there's lonely people in the lonely night

they grab a lonely dream and they hold it tight

there's lonely people in the lonely day

who work to solve their dream away 

so I ask you this, which way to turn?

I ask you this, which sin to bear?

which crown to put upon my hair?

I do not know, I do not know...

I wait to take the hand of love, with every one you gather up

I wait to take the hand of love,

come every one, come gather up

won't you gather in your arms, gather in your arms  

they'll only be there til you're dead, so DREAM.

“Go CONFIDENTLY in the direction of your dreams! 

Live the life you’ve imagined” –Thoreau

Every morning when I sat up in my bed in my old apartment, the wall facing me held a canvas with the above quote. Naturally, I got use to its presence, so it didn't always serve the purpose of encouraging me to follow my dreams and do what I want to do, taking whatever steps I needed to get there. That's not easy to do. 
I've taken on a deep adoration for Fleetwood Mac's line,

 "Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?"
 I do. I have A LOT of dreams I'd like to sell. 
It surely would make things easier. 

Walking through the streets two weeks ago, I stumbled upon a group of musicians who were passionately playing this awesome music. These men were smiling, so incredibly happy to be doing what they loved. I stood and watched in awe as i let these thoughts settle over me. They had a HUGE crowd gathered around to watch and listen. People from the surrounding streets were  eager to join these talented individuals sharing their passion with others. there was this magnetic energy surrounding these guys and it was thrilling to watch. After several minutes, I walked away and continued onto my intended destination. Astoundingly, when I walked by five hours later, these guys were still at it. There was still a sizable circle around them, eyes glued with smiles painted on their faces. A few kids were even dancing along. I firmly believe that even if there hadn't been almost 100 people standing there, this group would have still been playing proudly with just as much energy. What a statement! 

Street musicians are generally looked down on, ignored, seen as a nuissance or whatever. There are huge misconceptions about poverty across the world. But I have a new-found appreciation for these musicians and the artists you see. Who knows, maybe they could be a lawyer or doctor but choose to do this because it's what their passionate about. More power to them. Since I can't sell my dreams or manage to forget about them, I will take a lesson from these guys and trust that if I do something I love, I will be happy. I will draw others to me as well. Everything else will fall in line after that.

A few days ago, I encountered a woman who pointedly questioned my intelligence, my background, my family and in the process insulted me more deeply than I have ever been insulted before. She boldly argued that I had no dreams and that if I did have dreams, I would be walking toward them on a straight and narrow path. I beg to differ. I do not think that the path is straight. Well, at least not any interesting path. I think my path has curves, bridges, waterfalls, concrete, yellow bricks and will lead me all kinds of adventures. Dreams are like the road signs that guide you and get you to wherever you want to be  headed. Luckily for this woman, I started thinking about the dreams that I have had throughout my life. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a veterinarian. Or more specifically, one day my six year-old self  told my mother, "a dancing pig doctor." As a kid, I would play teacher for hours on end by myself upstairs. True. Thanks for almost 11 years of dancing, choreographing, directing plays, stage managing and acting, I would do anything to be on Broadway. Ever since my first trip to Paris, I've wanted to travel the world. Every summer day for several years, I watched ER at 10 am and 11 am which made me want to be an ER surgeon like George Clooney. With my mission trips and commitment to the refugees in Vienna, Austria, it is a deeply rooted dream of mine to support that mission monthly from my own paycheck. Languages captivate me. I dream of being bilingual and raising my children bilingual. 

In the scene between the window frame 
Where the jackals preyed on every soul
Where they tied you to a pole 
And stripped you of your clothes
I was a dreamer, staring at windows
Out onto the main street cause that's where the dream goes
And each time they found fresh meat to chew
I would turn away and return to you
You would offer me your unmade bed
Feed me till I'm fed, read me till I'm read
But when the morning came
You would catch me at the window again...
And when I got older, when I grew bolder
Out onto the streets I flew
Released from your shackles
I danced with the jackals
And learned a new way to move
So before you take this song as truthYou should wonder what I'm taking from you, how I benefit from you being here
Lending me your ears while I'm selling you my fears...

-Becoming A Jackel, Villagers

I realize that my dreams have changed a lot if I think about the different ones that I have had over my lifetime, but I have not forgotten them. "Don't lose the dreams inside your head, they'll only be there til your dead. So dream, little darling, DREAM." (Dave Matthews) I have gone from thinking about them in almost a fantasizing manner [staring out of windows onto the street where the dreams go] to actually realizing them- BECOMING these dreams [out onto the street i flew, released from your shackels, i danced with the jackals], one step at a time.  

I cannot forget them, I cannot sell them, so I must ensure that I am actively, passionately and CONFIDENTLY chasing my dreams. I will ensure that I am supporting my friends and encouraging them to do the same. Let's stop staring out of the window and join in!

getting hitched and quitting drinking

this summer (from May until August) I know SIX people getting married. i have been cynical. admittedly, i have been a bitch. i have ranted, complained, expressed my opinion, lamented, questioned, doubted, stalked, gossiped, and been filled with joy for these friends that i have known a very long time to their face and behind their back. from learning about the potential of the impending engagement, to hearing the details of how the question was popped, to inquiring about wedding details, i have attempted to be supportive and i have likewise blatantly expressed my apathy or concern. oddly enough, feelings of approval or disapproval aside, i will not be seeing any of these brides walk down the aisle. my only connection to the actual celebration will be via Facebook. i cannot group all six of these in the same category of how i feel because that would be unfair to these friends. as certain as i am that none of them will read this, i owe everyone an apology. however, an apology i am unwilling to give. instead, i'd like to offer an explanation.

i am young; afraid of commitment to nearly everything. i have no idea where i will be in three months. i have big goals and huge dreams to chase. i've got at least four years of school ahead. i've got serious trust issues with males (and females for that matter). as i've blogged before, i don't even always trust myself. at least once a week, i am mistaken for a child +/-10 years younger than i actually am. i am wrestling with who God is and who He is not. i could not guess my credit card bill within one hundred dollars. i want an extravagant and beautiful wedding that is the party of the year. most days, i could not create a list of bridesmaides i'd feel comfortable with. additionally, i'd like the engagement ring of my dreams, a paycheck of several digits in my name, letters after my name on a business card, property that is decorated in my taste instead of a flashback to The Great Gatsby. i cannot wrap my mind around knowing someone at this exact moment that challenges any of the above.
     Though I was desperately reminding myself all last semester of the phrase, "don't push love away. it's all we have" (The Juliana Theory) and indeed do not plan to be blind to the opportunities that do pose a challenge to the above first-person statements, I just needed to get all that out there. To say, "hey, everyone. this is where i'm at." I confidently chose this path. I stick by the decisions that brought me here with great pride but occasionally, I am harshly reminded that people I literally grew up with, have transported themselves to a whole new stage of life that I don't know a single thing about. I don't even know about the steps they took to get to that stage of life. I doubt this from time to time and identify with Ben Gibbard's words. "Will I have learned so very little when these bones are old and brittle?
 I wait to talk when I should listen and cloud mistakes with false revisions. 
All my friends are forward-thinking, getting hitched and quitting drinking. 
And I can feel them pulling away as I'm resigned to stay the same. 
I was once a loyal lover whose lips did never seek another's
But now each love's more like a match, a blinding spark that burns out fast.
And they all conclude with the same sentence: 'I've never met someone more self-centered who thinks that life with a nice girl's like waiting for a bus to work.
If you deem it so, just cut the cord and go.
You'll be fine, there's plenty of hills to climb."

So as people are continuing to get engaged more rapidly than i can keep up, in case your big announcement is headed my way soon, please know that i do love you deeply. and i am so incredibly happy for you. my wishes for a lifetime of bliss together is genuine and as sincere as possible. but i just don't get it. i don't understand and i cannot relate. as distance has already crept into our relationships by the very introduction of your significant other, i can only pray that the distance is not increased by your leap into a dramatically different stage of life than i am in. a stage i do not see myself joining for a long damn time. PLEASE do not become a bridge engulfed in flames behind me simply because I am not there yet. We will both be fine because there are plenty of hills (in all shapes, sizes and stages of life) to climb. I'll just be climbing the engaged and married hill long after others. But that's okay cause I CAN go my own way.

a deep thank you for reading this self-absorbed, rant. maybe i wrote it because i need affirmation. maybe i wrote it because i need to be told that i am wrong. that i am self-centered and jaded. perhaps i need to hear both. perhaps this is how you feel too.
#sorryimnotsorry

no place in mind, we shall arrive

Today, one of my professors said to a large group of seniors and freshman, "Don't worry about where you're going, because you don't even know." I thought to myself, wow, that's really inspirational. Then I thought, wait a minute. That scares the SHIT out of me. So I dont know where i am going. But that's okay. Because, with no where in mind, we shall arrive. and look up Joey Ryan because he is great. I'm convicted that from my small corner of the world I should shamelessly promote singer songwriters that deserve the spotlight. 

i left you to your own devices with failures weighing on your mind.

like a seed denied the water needed, you're wilted now, all but defeated.

worry not you told me, but i've seen unfold this story. 

strong and steady be your will, leaves your battered body cold and still. 

and i know, you know you need me now. my hand is soft and strong held out for yours to grasp it firm and scream you'll never let it go.

up the asphalt, back in time, no place in mind, we shall arrive.

its better to be on your way than sit and stay and melt away.

and i know, you know you need me now. 

my hand is soft and strong held out for yours to grasp it firm and scream that you'll never let it go. 

listen, i know you know that all along you're scared to hit the end head on.

 so place your weary hand in mine and don't you ever let it go.

cause even as your path may wind, keep me always on your mind.

open ward your heart to me, be not the door that has no key. 

make it good your chance at life, no where in mind, we shall arrive.

-Joey Ryan, We Shall Arrive

To the next person that asks, this is my public proclamation and warning, "What are you doing after graduation?" you WILL be slapped. so just, don't ask. i get very cranky almost instantaneously at such questions. and i might respond with, "i'm sorry, did you plan to be overweight and working at the student health center that is a complete joke of a medical facility at Alabama when you were 22? oh, you didn't? so, how the hell should I know?" thanks. 

uh, Dr I'm going to need a stronger painkiller. i wouldn't quite say this lortab is working.

MEDIOCRE is becoming a new favorite word.

i need more time staying at my apt. at least being here is less eventful.

i am thinking i may be on the borderline of a new phase before the "next" phase i was expecting in May. not certain about this, but i am excited, anxious, and open minded. 

so for all the drama, confusion, uncertainty and chaos of right now... i will let the fear in for five seconds then let it be gone. i will not run for the door. i have been an expert in both. but this time, i might like Kate say, "of course i will." after all, i'm not running now.

now if I can just find Jack Shephard to lead the herd in a chant of "live together, die alone."

watch the whole thing, but the good part is at the end.

fear is an odd thing.