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. 

A Post!

So, I've been avoiding this comprehensive post for a while. It overwhelms me with its capacity.

In the last 2 months, I have:

1) Been in 2 weddings in 2 states in 2 weeks
2) Bought a new car
3) Gone to a new dentist (something I'd avoided for far too long)
4) Attended at least 4 Aikido seminars/special classes
5) Applied for and signed lease documents for a new apartment in a new state (Virginia)
6) Planned a vacation to CA

These activities leave me tired and stressed.

The demise of my relationship with Jason, while entirely initiated by myself, has been eating away at me for 8 months now (God, that long?) and the fact that I am about to move out makes it all seem very final and, quite honestly, makes me question whether or not it was even a good idea to begin with. Truth be told I could probably benefit from this time alone but I am really going to miss having him there to talk to—especially since he will be living up to an hour away (we're both moving closer to our respective jobs). It's just the worst feeling.

All things considered, the new apartment is pretty nice. Not as small as I was expecting to find, and not as expensive as I was expecting to have to settle with. Ultimately a win.

This morning on the way into work I was lamenting over a few things about relationships:

1) It's very annoying that you cannot choose who you are attracted to. If that were the case, I would choose Jason and we'd wrap this whole thing up with a little bow.
2) It's also very annoying that I spend so much time and energy worrying about it. Why do I judge the success of my life based on my romantic relationships? Why do most people do that? Why can't we be our own source of happiness and supplement that happiness with friends/lovers? In the grand scheme of things, my life is pretty great. I have allowed this ONE aspect of it to color my mood for a year. And color it has! I am finding gray hairs.
4) Why does it seem like everyone in the world is getting married? The onslaught of wedding talk doesn't help with the "avoid thinking about relationships" attempt...

Moving into an apartment by myself with 2 cats is the first step to becoming a crazy old cat lady. Is this something that I am ok with?

In other news, my California vacation is now less than a month away and I am SO EXCITED to get out of here and stop thinking about everything... or at least have 1.5 weeks where I don't have to DO anything about it.

In other other news, 2 weekends ago, I had a very funny experience involving a person who was the product of many a conversation in high school. I will not use names for SEO purposes but about 4 seconds into this story, the 3 people who read this blog will know exactly who I am talking about.

Facebook informed me that this fellow would be starring in a musical production in Philly during the months of May, June, and some of July. I thought it would be amusing for old time's sake to see the production—considering I spent such a great deal of energy on this person in high school, and considering he spends most, if not all, of his time in NYC now.

Elana was gracious enough to accompany me to the show on very short notice so we got there early to make sure we got tickets. Left with an hour or so to spare, we decided to take a walk to a nearby restaurant to kill some time. While crossing the street, GUESS WHO WE SEE in the window of the restaurant. Yep. We decided to go to the place next door... we didn't want to risk awkward encounters. Turns out the place next door actually wasn't the place next door... it was the same goddamn place. So we marched right on past his table to be seated at the back of the restaurant. Giggling ensued. We did not make our presence known.

The show progressed as usual. Turns out we were seated 4 seats down the aisle from his PARENTS. The show was cute. We ran into another friend from high school during intermission (married AND pregnant—really though, EVERYONE?!) Since it was a professional production, I hadn't expected to encounter him after the show so I swallowed my pride and my rekindled longing and prepared to go back to the car. Upon leaving, we noticed his parents waiting around in the lobby. Now I swore to myself that I had grown up since high school. I swore to myself that I was less creepy and more in command of my compulsions now. I swore that the next time I encountered this person I would be cool as a cucumber in one of those "See what you missed out on?" kinds of moments that you see in the movies. But when I saw his parents waiting just outside the door of the lobby we were in, I turned to Elana and said, "Stop... we wait RIGHT HERE." Elana, ever the good sport, giggled and said, "Ok."

Mere minutes (which felt like 7 awkward hours) later, he arrived. The plan was to casually walk out the door as though we just happened to be walking by at the right time... My fucking palms were sweaty as we approached. I was thinking to myself, "Monique, this is absolutely insane! Stop it!" Alas, my acting skills took over and as we approached the man in question, I called out his name, cool as a cucumber (I realize this is hard to convey via written word... if I were to be saying it to myself it would have sounded like "MO-nique CU-chi! (how the hell are ya?)"). He turned toward me and I have to admit the look on his face was rather encouraging. Some mixture of "Oh my god, you are literally the last person in the world I was expecting to see" and "What a pleasant surprise!" He said "Oh my god, Monique!! Thank you so much for coming" and gave me a big hug. He introduced me to his parents (we've met) and I said, "Do you remember Elana from high school?" to which he replied "Of course!" but Elana was convinced that he didn't... I tend to agree with her. And then he was accosted by UD summer theater pre-teens. We tried to wait until they left but he had to run back inside so we didn't get to talk any more. I sent him a Facebook message congratulating him and never got a response (unsurprised).

Lessons learned:

1) Upon seeing him again, I instantly reverted to my 16 year old self, but I think I held it together on the outside pretty well. All in all, a highly amusing experience...
2) I forgot how tiny he was. As I hugged him, I wondered if I was, in fact, larger than he.
3) After the shock of seeing him again wore off, I got over it rather quickly and was a little miffed that he didn't respond to my message. Whatever. He's too cool now, I guess.

That's it for now. Countdown to California: 28 days.