Vacation Chronicles #8

So I'm sitting in the airport waiting to board my flight home. It's been a wild ride: my backpack needs to be washed, I was in a magnitude 6.1 earthquake at 3:30 in the morning, I drank more wine in the last 7 days than I have in the last 7 months, I ate several new foods, I spent time with three people who I haven't seen regularly in over 5 years, and I attempted to forget about the stressors in my life. I think I mostly succeeded. It's very hard to concentrate with all of these noisy, stressed-out people around. Why are airports full of those? I should have brought earplugs. I need to invest in a really good, really strong pair. I would have several uses for them. Pixel is the largest of those reasons. Anywho...

I realize that perhaps I am putting a little too much pressure on this trip. I am expecting it to solve all of my problems but that is highly unlikely and highly unfair. So instead, I will consider it a success because I was able to forget about some things for a while, focus on some things without external pressure, talk about some things with outside sources, and see some absolutely beautiful sights.

The earthquake was insane. Truthfully I'm a little tired of talking about it but I'll attempt to recap for archival purposes. It's very strange to be suddenly awoken (awaken? What's the right word here?) by violent shaking. I was in the earthquake we had on the east coast a few years ago. It was a 5.8 and the epicenter was somewhere in Virginia so I was fairly close, all things considered. Upon being jolted awake yesterday morning, I remember thinking to myself, "This one is way worse." Everything was shaking SO HARD. It's difficult to describe, really. There is no way to explain it. You had to feel it. The scary part was that, being 3:20am, it was pitch dark and I could hear glass shattering all around my uncle's house but I couldn't actually see anything. It was sensory deprivation and sensory overload all at the same time. I finally got out of bed and opened the bedroom door to find my uncle who had just run over. We looked at each other like, "What the hell?" and then it was done. If you ask me, I think the whole thing happened really fast. If you ask him, it was the longest 30 seconds of his life. Perspective. My aunt and uncle lost a lot of stuff. Several bottles from their wine room, their flat screen TV, several sculptures, some dishware, some coffee mugs, and the stuff that wasn't broken was all over the floor. What a mess... I helped them clean the worst of it for about 2 hours and then decided to go back to bed when everything calmed down. They just made a pot of coffee and stayed awake. They're crazy. 

This post is disjointed but the airport is really hectic right now. I have to work on zoning this shit out. 

The work situation I described in chronicle #1 has come to a conclusion. I spoke to our project lead a few times over the course of the trip. He managed to push the design stuff back just enough for me to do it when I get back. The caveat is that I have a lot of work to do by Friday. I was going to take the day off tomorrow to rest and relax but instead I am going to secretly work from home to try to get ahead. I am simultaneously pleased, thankful (to him for navigating that annoying scheduling mess), and scared/stressed. All day I've had a sinking feeling in the bottom of my stomach at the thought of what these next two weeks will be like. 

I did have a wonderful time on vacation though. I'm very sad that it's over but I'm also a little relieved to sleep in my own apartment again (for another week and a half), see my kittens, and not worry (as much) about another earthquake. Lots of changes and excitement are in store for my return. I hope that I can stave off burnout for as long as possible and reach a state of equilibrium as soon as I can. It should really be up to me to do this. Work very hard and very efficiently for the next 2 weeks and hopefully I can coast the rest of this year with a lot less stress and a lot more solidity than I have been able to muster in the early part of the year. Fall is my favorite season and Halloween is my favorite holiday so I have that to look forward to. I'm starting a dance class next Tuesday which should be fun. I have some cool art projects lined up if I find time for them. 

Things should be ok. Deep breaths.

Vacation Chronicles #7

I've been running nonstop since arriving in the Bay Area. Insane! In the last two and a half days, we've done parts of San Francisco, Muir Woods, a farmers market in Sonoma, Monterey Bay, Carmel, Pebble Beach, 2 wineries in Napa, and an art gallery/winery crossover. I don't even know how to summarize. 

I was absolutely right about the juxtapositions. It's been 100% fine dining, expensive wines, BMWs, and all the works since getting here. My uncle's house is amazing. Small, but it's on the edge of a vineyard so his dining room table overlooks a huge expanse of grape vines. I have my own bedroom and bathroom. Basically, this is better than what I have at home. They have been so gracious I can't even handle it. I haven't purchased a single thing in almost 3 days which makes me feel a little bad. I want to give them something to show my gratitude but what do you get rich, retired people that live on the edge of a vineyard? Nothing. They have it all. My uncle and his friend want me to design a wine label for them. They make wine. Maybe I will pay them in art. Such is the beauty and also the plight of an artist. 

The farmers market in Sonoma was absolutely adorable. The place looked like Stars Hollow from Gilmore Girls. I couldn't believe it... And there was this band of old ladies who were freaking awesome singing songs the likes of Pat Benetar and Tina Turner. All of the old hippies were cutting some serious rugs. 

The weather here is very different than LA but still very nice. They have this fog bank that comes in and out every day. It's there in the morning, recedes as the sun rises, and comes back at night. The weather and temperature here are entirely dependent on this overlord. People talk about it like its a living thing. "Ahhh, I haven't seen the bank this far up in a while!" "Man, it just won't go away today!"

All anyone talks about or thinks about around here is wine. Not that I have a problem with this. 

I've spent most of my time not actually in or around San Francisco. We're going back for the day on Sunday but we've mostly spent time in the areas all around it. There is so much to do around here within about 3 hours in any direction. We're attempting to see it ALL. 

I was able to meet up with my coworker friends who are in town for a wedding for a few minutes yesterday in Carmel. It was nice! I may end up going out with them a bit tonight but I'll have to figure out timing. My uncle and I are waking up early tomorrow to go to Yosemite so I want to make sure that I have enough sleep. This vacation is supposed to be relaxing me, not exhausting me. I appreciate the ability to see everything that I don't get to see every day. I can see my friends sing karaoke at home. That makes me sound like an old woman, but goddamn it, it's my vacation and I'll do what I want!

I want to stay here. Everything about this area is great. Napa is beautiful, San Francisco is SO COOL looking. I haven't even spent any real time there but the architecture and aesthetic alone are enough to make me want to live there. Ugh. Why is DC so ugly, boring, and filled with fat, rude people?! Seriously, we are doing it all wrong on the east coast. All. Wrong. If Robin Williams couldn't be happy here, he didn't stand a chance. This is what heaven must be like. 

4 more days... I don't want to leave. Especially since I know how shitty it's going to be when I get back. I'm really, really trying to enjoy my time here but I have the dread of my return hanging over my head. I was thinking about it today in the car. My life has been like one of those seismograph machine outputs. Fairly jagged for the last several months, EARTHQUAKE JAGGED for the last few weeks, flatline for these 12 days of vacation, and then fucking nightmarishly earthquake-jagged when I return. The sad part is that there is no real endpoint for the return-maelstrom. Vacation always provided this light at the end of the tunnel thing for me but now it's just a black hole I'm walking into. 

Uuuuuuuugggggghhhhhhhh... 

Enough of my own depression for one day. I'm going to go read about Shadow's depressing life. 

Vacation Chronicles #6

I'm on the plane to San Francisco. LA time has officially ended. Last night we went to a drag show at a gay bar at which I saw my only 2 celebrities of the whole trip. Jai Rodriguez from the Fab Five and Josh McKinkey from Project Runway. I didn't get to talk to Josh but I did get a picture with Jai! He was super nice... And also jet lagged from his trip to Sydney. 

I spent a lot of time on the beach yesterday and I have the obligatory patches of sunburn to prove it. Not enough to cause concern but more than enough to make me hot and uncomfortable. 

I finished The Silkworm and began American Gods as planned. I'm pleased with the way The Silkworm ended for sure. I love JK Rowling so much. She can do no harm in my eyes. So far, I'm liking American Gods as well. I have enjoyed all of the Doctor Who episodes that Neil Gaiman wrote and I love his blog post about George RR Martin so I was expecting to like his novels as well. I'm excited to finally read one so I can stop being a fake fan of his.  

I expect this trip to San Francisco to be 100% different than my LA experience. The juxtaposition of a few 20-somethings' lives in the heart of LA and a 60 year old retired rich guy in Napa Valley is almost comical. Lush, sophisticated dining will replace hole-in-the-wall Asian food gems. Convertibles will replace buses. Far-too-expensive glasses of wine will replace flasks... And I think that mix is really cool. (Or so I assume. For all I know my uncle will drop me off on a street corner and point me to the nearest McDonalds... Though I highly doubt that).

Shortest flight I've ever taken. We're already in the descent. 

Vacation Chronicles #5

I almost forgot to write my chronicles this morning. The horror! My weekend with Blythe was great!! We got over the the Getty yesterday. It was absolutely amazing. I have never been to another art museum like it. We got a later start (for which I am not at all complaining) that put us there about mid-afternoon and we lamented a bit because we could have easily spent a few more hours there. 

We got to thoroughly peruse a James Ensor exhibit which was really great. He's so creepy and weird and it was awesome. It makes me want to draw more--as every good artist always does. One day, maybe I will. I just can't seem to force drawing into my routine--probably because my "routine" is ever-changing. I just signed up for a dance class on Tuesday nights until February. Anything I can do to keep busy and stave off feelings of loneliness and self-pity. Ironically, none of those "things to stave off loneliness and self pity" revolve around visual art. I don't think it's active enough to distract me from thinking... that's what I've decided. Hopefully the cats easily adjust to having fewer people around. I hope they will be happy...

I have a lot to do to get ready for this move. Coming home will be rough. Work and moving are going to instantly stress me out again upon my return. Knowing that makes it hard to relax now--while I am still on vacation. As Blythe and I were saying last night, I know intellectually that this is crazy but for some reason, I continue to fall into this panicky thought process. It feels like I am being continually beaten down by my own head.  I'm sure everyone feels this. Some people are better at dealing with it I think; or maybe they have sources of joy that are strong enough to offset the negative feelings. I don't know, because obviously I'm still working on this. 

Sitting here in an armchair in Blythe's living room swimming in my own thoughts is not doing me any good, though. I should at least put on a bathing suit, head down to the beach, and swim in my own thoughts there. At least I can work on a tan or do some people watching. I am so close to finishing The Silkworm. Perhaps I can finish it today and start American Gods. I wish there were more Cormoran Strike novels. I really enjoy them. Being JK Rowling books, I'm sure it's only a matter of time befor they're turned into movies. It'll give me a reason to reread them and then be disappointed by the outcome. The actors will then form the image of the characters in my mind while I read later books... Not the end of the world but it does change things a bit. Though I've realized lately that I don't usually put a face to characters when I'm reading. I'll put a body to them; and clothes; but I always have a very vague image of their face. This might be because I generally try to put myself in the shoes of the character--so I guess you wouldn't see your own face on a normal day, would you? I don't know. I just came to the staggering realization very recently that, despite being a visual artist who is fascinated by character creation, I tend to ignore the faces of characters in books. Odd, that's all. 

Here are a few pictures from the Getty...

Vacation Chronicles #4

I don't know if I'll keep this up every day. Truthfully, I'm already running out of things to say. It's a nice morning exercise though. 

Yesterday was fun. We did all of the touristy LA things like Hollywood Blvd and hiking to the Griffith Observatory (which left us with some pretty good shots of the Hollywood sign). Hollywood Blvd was a lot like the Vegas strip in my opinion. Loud, big, colorful, and riddled with people in costumes trying to get your attention/money. 

Me and Johnny Depp!

The sun is always, absolutely always, shining. The weather continues to be the most noteworthy thing about this place. Luckily, I've applied enough sunscreen and spent just enough time outside to avoid getting burnt--which is great. Apparently many of Blythe's east coast visitors have gotten fried--so it's a very real threat. I guess this is because the temperature is always fairly cool, especially on the beach where there is a very strong ocean breeze; and there is no humidity, but, alas, the sun is ever present. There are no clouds. Not a single cloud. 

I wonder what the Bay Area adventures are going to be like. I really haven't seen or interacted with my uncle in a quiet while and now I am going to be spending a whole week with him. It will be fine. I just wonder if we're going to have enough to talk about. I imagine the area and the activities will probably provide a lot of conversation starters. Plus I have tentatively planned to meet up with a few friends once I'm up there--a few coworkers and my old coworker from when I was working at the dojo. Not the asshole who owns the place but the other employee. It will be weird but he really wants to meet up. Truthfully, I'm not sure what Uncle Greg has planned so I'm not even sure if I will have a lot of free time over there but we'll see. I will admit that the gaping hole of days in front of me in which I don't know what I will be doing is giving me a little bit of heartburn. I'm used to over-scheduling. I know this is crazy--but it still makes me a little uncomfortable.  

I still have two more days here in LA though so I shouldn't get ahead of myself! Today we're doing the artsy thing and going to the Getty. 

Vacation Chronicles #3

24 additional hours of observation:

1) Marijiuana is pervasive here. It's absolutely everywhere--people smoking it, people selling it, people selling memrobelia for it. Venice Beach, as an entity, is high all the time. 

2) My friend from work was right, all of the people ARE beautiful here. We went to a play last night. As always, regardless of city/state, the audience had a median age of 60 but they were all super attractive, tan, VERY well-dressed, and relatively fit. This is, I think, because...

3) People are so active here! Why wouldn't you be? The weather lends itself to taking walks/runs/bike rides every single day. Weather is absolutely never a reason to avoid working out--or in the case of many of these people I'm sure, exploring the awesome surroundings. 

I can't believe I'm already in (the morning of) day three. Vacations always fly by so fast. It's a little upsetting. The passing of time is always interesting to me. Perhaps I've written about this before. It's absolutely amazing to me how a 12 day vacation can feel about 3 times shorter than 5 days of waiting for something or 1 week of intense work. It's all relative. I think this is a reason (one of many) that Doctor Who is attractive to me. What is time really? How and why is scientific time even important if the perception of it is so much more prevalent?

I contnue to feel mostly calm with only the occasional panicky setback. Yesterday I was able to get out of my head a little bit. It was easier to pick up my Kindle and read for a while without (too many) daydream distractions. This is an improvement, albeit small. 

I went to In n Out Burger for lunch where a man had just crashed into the wall of the shopping center outside in his beat up Lexus. It was a new food experience AND a show! No one was hurt so it was just entertaining. 

Today is Saturday so Blythe isn't working which means that we have the whole day to hang out and explore! I'm very excited for this alternate California experience. The previous two days have just been some self-exploration (including a really cool studio tour!) that usually ended in the beach. No complaints here at all but it will be fun to have a tour guide AND to finally get some much needed catch up time. 

Vacation Chronicles #2

I don't know how I want to form these chronicles. I don't think I want it to be a play by play of everything I did every single day. Seems excessive--unless there are noteworthy moments, of course.

Perhaps I will devote this one to impressions. I haven't even been in California for 24 hours yet but I have essentially spent a "day" doing stuff and being here so I certainly have drawn a few conclusions. 

Some things I noticed:

1) LA is pretty spread out. I didn't understand what everyone meant about having to drive everywhere but now I do. It's kind if sprawling. As we were flying in I noticed the grids upon grids of low-lying, neatly-stacked houses that seem to stretch on infinitely in all directions. 

2) There are a LOT of crazy people here. A man holding a stuffed monkey projectile sneezed on my leg in the bus and then said "God bless you" to himself. 

3) Veince beach is pretty much the stereotypical picture of LA that I had in my mind: colors, skateboards, break dancers, graffiti, surfers, etc. I didn't really get a chance to explore the boardwalk much because I made a beeline for the ocean but I think I will walk around a little more today. 

4) LA is a city, after all, and it is a lot like a typical city in a lot of ways--but everything is outside. Every restaurant has permanent outdoor seating because the weather is perfect every single day (70s/80s during the day and cool 60s at night--very little humidity and no rain). Everything is colorful and kissed with an air of beachiness.

5) Despite the crazies, people are way nicer here overall. Even the crazy people are nicer. Crazies in DC yell at you. Crazies in LA sneeze on your knee after asking how you are doing. 

Being on the beach yesterday was wonderful (despite forgetting a towel--see photo). It was nice to smell the ocean again. I grew up on the jersey shore. My grandparents have a house there so we spent every weekend of every summer of my childhood on the beach. In recent years I have really begun to miss it. This summer, I hadn't even put on a bathinsuit once until yesterday's beach adventure. This being my first trip to a west coast beach, I definitely noticed some key differences but overall, a beach is a beach and I felt right at home. It was easy to walk to Santa Monica from there to meet up with Blythe and Brian after they finished work. We went to happy hour, then to dinner, then to karaoke. 

All in all, it was a really good day and I already feel significantly less stressed. The antsy, on-edge feeling has all but dissipated and now exhaustion is setting in. As I sit here in their living room at 9am listening to the sounds of some people rustling around outside, I don't even want to get up to go to the kitchen for food. Haha. I will. But for the moment, I'm enjoying the rest. I would like to have more of this so-called rest. 

Vacation Chronicles #1

I'm on the plane to LA swirling in a storm of my own thoughts so I figured I'd write them down in an attempt to quiet them. Perhaps I can chronicle this trip in a way that acts as a sort of catharsis. I need this vacation. I need this time alone. I need this time away from the people I've been surrounded with. I need this time away from work and from other extraneous pressures. I don't need to think about the 72 CVS emails I get on a daily basis. Or the fact that if I don't log into the video game I allowed Jason to suck me into, I might be removed from the alliance... a pressure I neither asked for nor understand and yet I feel the need to avoid. 

My father is right. I put too much pressure on myself. He knows it. I know it. Anyone who has spoken to me for longer than 5 minutes knows it. I just can't stop. I don't know why. Perhaps it's the fear of failure regardless of how trivial the task. I always think of that song "I Speak Six Languages" from 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee when I think about my life. 

"Winning is a job and I get no real enjoyment..."

The character is a little girl who excels at everything because that's what's expected of her. The song is a lament of sorts about the unnecessary pressure that generates. She ends up intentionally misspelling a word in an attempt to join the normal kids. This sounds like a stuck-up, self-righteous problem to have. The way I see it though, who cares about accomplishments if they don't make you happy?

In light of Robin Williams's suicide, I've been thinking a lot about this. Suicide really bothers me. "Bother" is the only word I can muster to generalize it. It's some mixture of terror, depression, and fascination. Any time I hear of a suicide, I am filled with really intense emotion. I understand what it feels like to think that no one understands the world inside your head... the thought that you're entirely alone despite being surrounded by 7 billion other people... wondering why humans were given emotion... wondering why humans were given life... wishing you could find some sense of purpose or some sense of peace to get you through each day and give you a reason to get out of bed the next time. These are things I think about all the time--and to watch people succumb to these thoughts over and over again feels like a societal failure to me. We couldn't convince Robin that he meant something to the world. We failed. At least that's the way I see it. 

Yesterday was my birthday. Overall, a pretty good day. Last day before vacation, lots of cake from friends at work, promotion compensation announcement from my supervisor. Right before I left though, I was sucked into a planning meeting for one of my projects in which we were faced with the unfortunate truth that, schedules being what they are (and they are shit), another designer will have to be pulled in to do very important work in my absence. I will, of course, get to continue when I return but all of the major concepting will be done by this temp designer. Let me put it into lay terms... I was cast as a supporting role in a musical. I attended all of the rehearsals, learned all of my lines and all of my songs, helped the other cast members learn their lines and songs, and on the way to the performance, I got caught in a traffic jam and the understudy had to go on stage in my stead. I made it there in time to perform in the final group number. That is essentially what happened here. 

I got angry. Very angry. In preparation for this vacation I've been working extended hours for almost 2 weeks, the stress in my personal life is still highly present, and dropping this bomb on me an hour before the end of my last day (which just so happened to be my goddamn birthday) was too much for me to handle. The tension in the room was palpable and for that I felt bad but when I step over the threshold of that much anger and frustration (usually brought on, as was this, by something entirely beyond my control), I can't reign it in. It was all I could do not to burst into tears in the conference room... tears--my unfortunate biological response to that level of anger; as I believe I've mentioned before. So I sat there stewing quietly, focusing the entirety of my attention on not crying. Our project lead pulled me aside to see if I was ok and to allow me to vent my frustrations. At that point, I was so close to breaking down that I essentially gave him one word answers. I didn't want to cry in front of him for several reasons: I didn't want to cry at work; I didn't want to cry in front of someone with that much stature; and if I'm being totally honest, I find him really attractive, so I didn't want to look like an idiot. (Here's to hoping no one from work finds this blog).

We left the meeting and I took a walk outside. I had to get out. I called my grandparents who wanted to wish me a happy birthday. I sat in a parking lot for 20 minutes, and then I went back to work feeling ever-so-slightly farther away from tears. As soon as I got back, one of my best friends at work pulled me aside to see if I was ok. When I am in that kind of a mood, there are certain people who make me cry the second they even look at me. My dad is one of those people. Apparently this guy is as well. I think it's the same as when a little kid falls and scrapes their knee and holds it together until they see their mom--at which point they erupt into hysterics. This guy took me under his wing and showed me the ropes when I started and has been one of my biggest supporters ever since. His father passed away recently and a few of us attended one or all of the various burial services. We're a close team. Sometimes, it feels a lot like family. Anyway, I was almost instantly crying the second we stepped into a conference room, which made me even angrier because I had done such a good job holding it together until then. I felt a little bad because he is one of those people who cries when he sees other people cry and I really wasn't trying to ruin anyone's day. We talked for a while and he tried to cheer me up. A few of us went out for drinks after work. I think they all felt bad that I got mad on my birthday. I felt embarrassed that the last hour of work unexpectedly revolved around my feelings. The whole thing sucked and quite honestly I'm still in a really weird mood. 

I talked to my dad (...because I really needed another one of those cry-initiators) on my walk to the dojo. He, as previously mentioned, reminded me once again that I over stress. My mother could be heard in the background saying, "look who's talking!" He told me that I've been doing this since grade school (fact) and that it's not healthy (fact). And then he said, "Monique, I don't know how to help you. I have never been able to help you." It was one of those statements that freezes time--the kind that you can recall in vivid detail for the rest of your life. He said it with the same sense of defeat as I described above in my bit about Robin Williams. He's concerned about my ability to fight my own demons. He always has been. I'm sure these kinds of news stories are just as impactful to him as they are to me, albeit for different reasons. 

Back to the plane. I need this vacation for so many reasons. I really hope that it's restorative. I'm not going to check email. I'm not going to spend (much) time on social media sites. I'm just going to live. I want this to be a reset button before I go back and have to deal with work (which will be just as busy when I get back despite the temp designer stealing my thunder) and moving out of the apartment with Jason, living some place new away from the people I'm used to. It's daunting and I'm dreading it but I'm really hoping that this trip adds some much needed perspective. I need to get out of my own head and re-enter the world.