As the seasons change

For the first time in my life I get to see the seasons change. Who knew a girl from California would appreciate the freezing cold, warm and fucken humid.  I have watched the leaves turn orange and fall crisply to the ground and I basque in the bone chill that allows me to wear my favorite boots and sweaters.  

Orange October. How I do miss being in San Francisco on the Embarcadero while the Giants play, feeling the city's energy and excitement. How all the buildings light up in orange to show love for a team that, before 2010, hadn't seen the Commissioners Trophy since 1954. Torture. I still remember exactly what I was doing downtown San Francisco during the 2010 'Ships...it still feels like it was just yesterday. This year, I was able to create different memories in a different country for the same team. Struggling to stay awake for the games that begin at 2am or waking up at 4am just to catch the last innings to watch them go 4 in a row with the birds. Going home early on a Saturday night because the man knows how important it is to me to see history recreate itself. Watching him sweat to find a streaming website, all the while lame ass Fox sports doesn't allow it so we resort to KNBR and watching the highlights in the morning. Now for the second time in 3 years we have once again claimed the top spot, 2012 WORLD SERIES CHAMPIONS. What I would give to be at that parade and lay out on the grass of civic center to listen to the speeches of Larry Baer, Bruce Bochy and Pablo Sandoval. 

Disney Halloween. Last years girls Halloween was a force to be reckoned with. Getting ready all together, sipping Ciroc and taking a cab because we're responsible drunks. Party jumping because that's how we do. How in the hell we ended up in Ariel's car, I have the faintest clue. The biggest slumber party, although there was hardly any slumbering. Waking up to guitars being played and songs being sung. That's what the good life is made of.  As much as I wanted this years Halloween to be something similar, it just wasn't the same.  Planning for two costumes, I ended up dressing up as an eskimo.  And when I say "eskimo" I mean, a girl that was cold as hell so bundled up in sweaters, jackets, scarves, hats and boots.

Happy Gobble Gobble.  This year, I was blessed enough to have Thanksgiving come to me.  The REAL southern style home cooked meal with a chicken stuffed turkey and all.  It was heart warming to share this holiday with friends that had never celebrated this holiday or ate the comfort food that reminds me so much of home.  I loved hearing what everyone was so thankful for this year and in general.  I am truly thankful that the Holder's let me be apart of a holiday that I thought I was going to miss. Trying to explain what Thanksgiving really was is actually quite funny...in the "it wasn't so funny then" ironic kinda way.  Literally, a day the pilgrims cooked a feast for the American Indians to thank them for the land they were stealing and women they were going to take.  But for me, Thanksgiving, yes...it is a time to be thankful but its a time where family and friends finally slow down and take time to see each other.  Its a time where I get to stuff my face for hours on end with no one judging me.  It is, for me, the time when the holidays start.  And boy do I love me some holidays.

Now I am at the end of November and I am watching the decorations for Christmas go up.  I love this time of year...the warm spices, fireplaces, the corny Christmas songs that I love to sing-a-long with and watching ELF!  I cant help but feel a little melancholy.  Because while I am enjoying myself in this magical city...there really is no place like home.  

Real life dreaming..

Is this real life?

9 months later and I am still asking myself, "is this real life?".  Sometimes, I feel as if I am going to wake up from the marvelous dream and all of it will go away like it never happened.  I still can't believe that I did it.  That I am still doing it.  And that I want to continue doing it....

When I was fresh out of high school, I had these dreams of traveling the world, seeing everything and doing everything.  I was young and the entire world was at my fingertips.  I dreamt big...no, I dreamt HUGE.  There was so much I wanted to do.  While in college, I wanted to be one of those study abroaders.  Learning about different cultures, adopting a new language and creating adventures that no one could replace or take away.  Then, real life took over.  At a tender age, I began my career that took over my life.  With all the hours, all the days, and all the responsibility.  Every ounce of energy I had was spilled into it, willingly.  As I watched all my friends take spontaneous trips to everywhere, I ate, slept and drank work.  In a desperate need for change, I quit my job and I moved to LA for a very short stint.  I then began a relationship with a wonderful man and fell in love.  Like a roller coaster, we had our ups and downs.  When times were high, they were HIGH but when they were low, they were low.  It seemed as if there was never a good time to move to another country and watch my dream become reality.  But like all roller coasters, my love and I had an abrupt end.

With a new promotion, I once again reverted all of my energy into my job.  Focused on planning events for others, marketing plans, fiscal goals...blah blah blah.  I loved my job and my co workers became my adopted family.  My life made a complete 180*; new circle of friends, new place and a new outlook.  But something was still missing.  As funny as it happened (over girls dinner and plenty bottles of wine), God sent me an opportunity in the form of teaching English in Florence, Italy.  Ok, it's not what I went to school for....certainly not something that I had thought about before...BUT this was my chance.  Sure, I was 7 years older than what I had originally thought but I was not going to let this opportunity pass me by.

So, here I am now, living, breathing, seeing my "once was" dream come to life.  A month ago, my right hand left and went back home to the states.  Secretly, two things were happening....1) how was I going to do this without her?  I think I was scared...worried...was I going to even survive this alone? 2)  I needed her to go.  I needed to know that I could do this on my own.  I needed to know that we weren't using each other as a crutch to get through a country and culture that we did not belong to.  It is finally sink or swim and I choose to SWIM.  I am not going to lie, this shit has not always been easy.  But I never thought it would be.  Life is a beautiful struggle....

As I settle into my Italian life, sometimes I forget to look up.  I am busy moving around with daily routines and errands.  But when I do remember, it takes my breath away every SINGLE time.  The scenery is something you CAN NOT express into words.  In pictures, you know its beautiful but if you have never experienced walking the streets of Italy, cobblestones and all, you are truly missing out.  The city SPEAKS to you...even without any background knowledge, you can still FEEL the history.  But it's not only the scenery that I have grown so incredibly fond of but the relationships that I have made.  Nights on the patio smoking hookah with friends, switch hittin' from English to Italian, I sit back...smile and exhale.  Aperitivo with what feels like the United Nations round table, I take a sip of my Spritz and exhale.  Sunday vespa rides to Siena and back, I take pictures of the lovely Tuscan countryside and exhale.  Finding a Christian fellowship, signing up as a volunteer to feed the homeless, feeling normalcy coming back into my life...I take a deep breath and exhale. Roman wine tours, sleepy train rides, glasses of wine in Piazza Signoria and Sunday futbol matches in bed....I look at him and exhale.

Now don't get me wrong....there is absolutely no doubt about it, I miss home like a mother sucker, but I would NOT trade this experience for anything.  I know this move is not forever...at least I don't think it is...so while I am here, I am going to soak up every once of every adventure that is thrown at me.  So, bring it on Italy...give me your best shot cos I have been waiting 7 long years to do this and I am more ready than ever....

Brand new everything

When life slows down and you have a moment to breath,

you get a chance to reflect.

My journey overseas has been a whirlwind of experiences and emotions. Upon my arrival in January, the beauty of the old world took my breath away. Cobblestones and "modern" 16th century buildings flooded my camera and warmed my heart.


I then started my 4 week intensive course at Via Lingua to become a certified English teacher. Education aside, I met some people that I will never forget. Some are now past friends, with whom I created fond memories that I can look back on. Others, life long friends that will always have a very special place in my heart. One in particular, who's heart is bigger than most. Between us, the world stands no chance...aggressive and headstrong, I miss this lady with all my heart and wish she was still here to experience Italy alongside me.


School ends and we go in to a tornado of drinking, eating and meeting people. Funny enough, we end up frequenting an Irish pub that only Americans go to. Go figure. Despite the 20 something's getting shit faced  wasted, giving Americans their well deserved reputation, I enjoy this bar....a lot. It became my very own "Cheers"... Where everybody knows your name. I befriended a girl that works there that I describe as the "Italian me".  We share so much in common that it is scary and funny at the same time.  Stories, oh our stories....I am able to talk to her about everything and anything under the sun. To have an Italian point of view on things have certainly helped in adjusting to the culture. Besides, she can make a mean cheesecake and tiramisu.

I ended up getting involved with a bartender who also works there. Of course I
did. We both entered our "relationship" knowing where we both stand and seemingly understanding each others situations. As months passed, things entered the grey area, boundaries blurred and everything changed. I'm not quite sure when or how...and definitely not why, but they did. On both ends... and it was obvious.  Needless to say, he called it quits. As disappointed as I was, it was the best thing he coulda did for me. I am now free to hang out with someone who I can actually talk to, do things with and feel comfortable around. Forever may not be an option for us but I enjoy his company all the same.
 
Which brings me to the here and now. With "new" all around me, it's hard to not be positive about where I am right now. The new job is turning out to be better than I expected, I'm not suffocated by jealousy and my upcoming new room mate is the positive reinforcement that I need in my life.


I finally got to take a breath of fresh air...and now I can't wait to exhale.

Under the Tuscan sun

"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. 

It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. 

We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." 

~Albert Schweitzer

I have a story to tell, and it all started about a week and a half ago.  If you read my last blog, "those are the friends I fall in love with", it was inspired by the same person that this blog includes.

This person, I think I can now call him a friend, and I hang out in similar circles.  As a group, we have been out more than a handful of times and a few dinner parties.  To sum it up, social situations.  Sure, we talk...drink...eat...laugh and all.  It wasn't until a week and a half ago, while I was helping him with a project, that he caught me by surprise.  He asked me about my personal life.  This isn't a topic that I am used to being asked about.  And I am not saying here in Italy, I mean in general. He told me his interpretation of me and I was...am...surprised at how close he was at pegging me.  In short, he said that he thinks that I am guarded and it is incredibly hard to get to know me.  That I am all smiles and hugs but keep everyone at arms length.  It is almost impossible to have a long conversation with me because I am always on the move.  Well, it's hard to have a "get to know you" conversation in a bar over 2 bottles of wine, 3 cocktails, 2 beers and a few shots.  But it did get me thinking...is my wall THAT obvious?

From what I have gathered, Italians are much more intuitive than Americans.  The need for human interaction here is incredible.  Here, people are not constantly on their phones browsing every single social network created, checking emails like its a sin not to and texting anyone who will reply for no reason at all.  Don't get me wrong, I am one of those Americans who is guilty of relying on the internet as if it is the air that I breath.  And maybe that is it.  Maybe since we (as Americans) would rather chat via net, text or post on each others walls...we forget how it is to be in tune with someone.  I grew up in the 90's and I remember what it was like to be without a cell phone or email.  To play outside, to call someone instead of text, and to want live company.  Have we lost that? 

Today I took a ride through the countryside on the back of my friends vespa to Siena.  With the 35* sun and humidity beating down on us, the cool breeze from the ride was just what I needed.  In the hour that it took to get there, we talked about real things.  Our families, our lives, our interests.  I don't ask many questions, in general, and he understood it as me being uninterested in getting to know people.  Which is, actually, the opposite.  I explained that I don't like to pressure people.  If you want to share something with me, I feel like you would.  And if I am constantly asking you 101 questions, I feel like I am prying.  More times than not, I get the short end of the stick because of this.  While I may seem to be outspoken, no nonsense kinda girl, I am actually really passive aggressive.  I'll work on that. 

As we walked around Siena, more personal topics came up.  What better way than to talk about your past that has lead you to the present and your plans for the future, than over some gelato.  It was refreshing to be challenged for once. The whys, the need for explanation and the follow up questions had my gears turning.  It's been awhile since someone has genuinely tried picking my brain and allowed me to pick theirs.  You really learn a lot about yourself when trying to explain it to other people.  When you actually have to say some things out loud...sometimes, it becomes much more clear.  Admitting vulnerability lifts clouds and opens eyes.  Do I know EXACTLY what I want?  What my next move will be?  The meaning of life?  No.  Not yet, at least.

Needless to say, the ride back home was serene.  The rolling hills of the Tuscan countryside, the wind in my hair, the sun kissing my skin with thoughts of reflection and an appreciation for a friendship unfolding right before my eyes. 



"They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them; but then an entire life to forget them."

The timing may not be exact but...yeah, that's just about right.  Of course, it depends on the circumstance.  We often find ourselves meeting people and if we like them, we continue hanging out with them.  I didn't realize how little we know about each other in these types of instances...you know, the social ones.  I mean, we know general information (name, where you are from...the sorts), what you are currently doing (job/school/not a damn thing), and what your typical drink is.  I still appreciate those friends, sure...but the conversations where you get to really tap into a person...those are the friends that I fall in love with.

For those of you who have been living under a rock for the past 7 months, I am currently residing in Florence, Italy.  The center (equivalent to our downtown) is what I would categorize as a "commuter city". Similar to San Francisco in that aspect as well as the melting pot of cultures.  People study abroad here...people make long visits...short visits...people live here for various amounts of time...but one thing is constant, the  change of people.  I have now lived through 2 semesters: one regular and one summer....and now currently living through the "slow season".  I couldn't tell you what a difference all three have been.  Its insane.  You go from seeing the same people everywhere you go...saying hello, double kisses, coffees, lunches, dinners, drinks...the whole nine.  Then you get a new group...and you start all over.  A girlfriend of mine has been living here for 12 years, originally from the south of Italy, and does this 3 times a year for the past 12 years.  I asked her how she does it, getting to know people, becoming their friends, spending time together and then saying goodbye after 6 months.  She said she is used to it...apparently, so is everyone else.

On a typical night when meeting someone for the first time, you are asked the same 5 questions like it's rehearsed:
-can you speak Italian/English (Parli Italiano/Inglese?)
-where are you from (Di dove sei?)
-do you study here or what are you doing here (Studiare qui? o Che fai qui?)
-do you like Florence (Te piace Firenze?)
-how long will you be here for (Quanto tempo qui?)

I get it now....and now I find myself asking these same questions.  I could do this in my sleep.  Ask and answer in English and in Italian as I am thinking of a song I heard today, drinking my drink, checking out the other people in the bar and giving my room mate the "oh-my-god-save-me" look.  But not all of my encounters have been so....lack luster.

The thing with being wander lust is that you meet incredible people everywhere but when your time or their time is up, good byes are always hard. I am fortunate enough to say that I have met some really great people, that I hope to be life long friends with, here. I have also had to say "ci vediamo" to more people than I would normally like.  People that I would see every night and our normal watering hole (aka Lions Fountain), after hours places, late night jam sessions, go to Pingusta for all you can eat Japanese fusion, Sunday brunches at Clubhouse with our normal "table talk", and walks around the center together for no reason at all.  April came, and slowly, one by one...the same people I spent all my time with went back home or found new homes in new countries.  Buona fortuna, amici mio. 'Till we meet again.

I am not sure when my time will be up here in

never never land. 

But when it is, I know I can look back

and remember the

"night's I can't remember with the people I will never forget"

As you wish

Why is it that we are told to do what "is right" and not what we want? If you are lucky enough to want what is right...you are the minority, my friend. You see, I'm pushing 30 and now we are "grown ups". Whatever that means. People want you to start taking life seriously: finish university, get a career, buy a house, get married and have babies....settle down. Besides finishing school, I have no (immediate) yearning for the rest.

I have a group of amazing friends that know me better than people I have known my entire life. Of course, when shit hits the fan, I turn to them for a shoulder...an ear...a bottle of wine. They give me advice that I know I should listen to. I know that they are right. I know that they have MY best interest in mind, that they are on the outside looking in and sometimes, it's the clearest view. But you know what? I also know that I am as stubborn as a bull and that I am going to do whatever it is that I want. I walk to the beat of my own drum...and normally, it's off beat.

Six months ago I had a successful job that I was good at. No, sorry, this is my blog so I can say it...I was GREAT at it. I had my own place, bought anything I wanted, took myself on fancy vacations and was the epitome of an independent woman.  I know that it sounds like I am full of myself but really, I'm proud of myself. Since I could remember, my mother raised me to be self sufficient and boy did she do a damn good job. Then, I made a life changing decision. Quit everything...my job, give up my place, and basically abandon the only life I have ever known, to move abroad. One friend asked me, "why would you give up a good job?" I told him that I was not in it to feed my wallet..I was in it to feed my soul. In layman's terms, cos I wanted to...

So I am told being with him is the "right" thing to do.  He would take care of me, cherish me and love me 'till the ends of the world.  I would be a kept woman and in societies definition, I would be....happy.  Sure, it makes sense enough.  But what if what I want is the him.  The crazy mixed up fucken love that drives you absolutely insane.  God knows we drive each other up the wall...constantly. But I kinda like that in a masochistic kind of way.  Then, what if I change my mind.  I can do that....right?  Because who says you HAVE to get married?  Lots of my friends were and are lucky enough to have found that one person in this WHOLE WIDE WORLD that makes them complete.  But, I have come to terms with it...I.AM.NOT.THAT.GIRL. (if you don't know it, listen to "Not that Girl" from the Wicked soundtrack)

I told my mother the other day that my dream is NOT to be a home owner.  I am perfectly happy with owning a condo or renting an apartment.  She couldn't wrap her head around this.  For me, owning a home would anchor me down to one place that I MUST live in for years to come.  Life throws so many curve balls at you, sometimes you have to be ready to move forward and not look back.  For those that know me, you know that I am a nomad.  I move...what....twice a year...on average?  Being a free spirit is exhilarating in that way.  Home is where the heart is and frankly, I have left a little pieces of my heart everywhere.

People tell me that I "do what I want"...and the fact of the matter is...I do.  But I don't get it...why wouldn't you do what you want?  Why do we have to fall in line like drones and abide by the ideal life that is force fed down our throats?  Life is too short to follow all the rules.  But don't take my word for it...I have paid the price a thousand times.  But the beauty in it all...I don't regret a thing.

"If we always learned from our mistakes

I would be a genius by now"

Mistakes suck, but they make for amazing stories.  Ask my friends.

No words can express...

As I was preparing to leave the states to begin my new journey overseas, I told everyone I would blog about my adventures.  I assured my friends and family that they would be able to experience Firenze through me.  Obviously, I have been failing miserably.  Those that know me, know that I can tell stories for days...it's the writing that I am not so good at. 

I have now spent 6 weeks in Firenze and posted two posts...about the same story.  At least it was a good story.  Now, to be honest, not all my experiences here are "shareable" since my family does follow this blog...and Mom, I swear I have been a good little Christian girl.  And contrary to popular belief...I DO a lot more than just drink, party and eat.  Those pictures are just more fun to look at and hear about. 


The thing that I love most about my experience here, is that I am able to experience EVERYTHING.  Parties, people, culture...you name it.  And most things I am not able to put in words...so, followed are pictures of my great adventures. Enjoy.

The top of the Ufizzi: clocktower

Inside the Plazzo Ufizzi: writing on the wall

view from Plazzo Michelangelo: Pizza Ufizzi and  The Duomo

Night time view of Ponte Vecchio

Basilica Santa Maria Novella

Inside the Santa Croce

Inside The Pitti Palace: Galleria Palatina

Bosom sculpture: Galleria Palatina

Sunset outside the Pitti Palace

Piazza Santa Maria Novella

Danti: in front of Basilica Santa Croce

Giardini di Boboli

View from the top of the Boboli Gardens

The Porcelain Muesum

The view of Pitti Palace from the backyard.  Fancy

Inside the Royal Apartments: Queens bed

Pegasus

Royal Crest: Porcelain Museum

I wasn't able to take pictures in the L'Accedemia where Michelangelo's "David" lives, which sucks.  They had an amazing tapestry piece that told the story of Jesus' life that is absolutely breathtaking.  I would have also like to have shown you the  La Galleria del Costume but again, no photos allowed.  The Museo delgi Argenti had intricate ivory relics that anyone in Florence MUST see.

Serendipy a' Firenze

ser·en·dip·i·ty  /ˌsɛrənˈdɪpɪti/ [ser-uhn-dip-i-tee]In the simplest of words, it means a "happy accident".

Things always happen for a reason...or rather, things happen just because they are suppose to.  Even if you take a detour, life leads you right back to where you are supposed to be...

So after a drunk filled night of stumbling around...I woke up and had no clue where I was the night before.  I had asked my roommate and my classmate...no clue...Lion's Den...or something?  Lyon with a "y"...google maps had NO idea.  And all I know, is that it was a green pub with a kebab place next door....great.  I had recapped my night with my other two roomies that didnt come out the night before.  Telling them that I had a date in 1 hour and I had no clue to where I was supposed to be.  BUT, I was going to give it a try anyway.

On the way over, I saw another classmate that I was with the night before.  I asked her if she remembered where we went...she didn't.  But she tried helping me anyway....we were close, we knew that for sure.  After a little bit, she left me to go on about her business while I tried to continue my search.  I asked a couple of people and they lead me to a bar called, "Lion's Fountain".  While the area looked familiar, that was NOT the bar I went to the night before...that much I knew. Or thought I knew.

So in defeat, I walk home.  I enter saying one simple thing, "fail.com".  My ride or die tells me that one of our other roommates has a story to tell me and that I should take a seat.  Ok, thats weird...but I take a seat anyway.  Vero had gotten her hair done the other day and they double charged her...so she went to take a walk to go sort it out.  What does this have to do with anything, you ask?  Shit, I was thinking the SAME thing.  So here is how she told me her story..

"So I go to the salon so I can show them my bank statement to prove

that they had doubled charged me.  I always walk to the same way...it's just

past the Duomo.  I know a little short cut that I can take to get there.  It's near

this cute little piazza. (she goes on to describe the piazza)  I'm walking in the little

 alley way and I look up and see a pub called "Lion's Den" (Yup, that's right. 

She FOUND the bar I was busily looking for at that exact moment) and I just thought to myself, 'I just bet that this is the bar that Nikko is looking for.' 

So I walk in and find a tall guy asking the bartender, 'hai visto una ragazza ...'

(have you seen a girl..) and goes on to describe you.  I walk right up to him and ask

him his name.  He looks at me weird and tells me his name.  I ask him if he is

waiting on a girl...he says,'Yes, Nikko.'  I explain to him that I am your roommate

and told him that you were looking for the place as we spoke but that you had no

idea where it was.  We exchange numbers, just in case...and he tells me, 'I'll wait a

 little longer just in case she can find the place'"

Can you believe that shit?  I couldn't.  She pulls out the little piece of paper that he scribbled his number on and hands me her phone.  ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?  I just spent....maybe 45 mins trying to find this place and here he falls so neatly in my lap.  I couldn't believe how much effort I had put into finding this place and this person...

I. HAVE. NEVER.



Was it worth it?  I'm not sure yet...but I will definitely let you know.



Friday night in Florence

My first week in Italy was fillled with lesson planning and homework.  So, needless to say, I was tied to my desk at home.  Finally, Friday came around and my classmates and I agreed that we should go out...Since my ride or die was dying in bed from being sick...my other roommate and I decided to start a little early.  We grabbed some beers from the Euro store (yes, I can get a 40oz for ONE Euro) and went for a walk...to the Uffizi, Ponte Vecchio and L'Accademia

After two 40's and some whiskey...Antonio and I are ready to pre game at our classmates apartment.  While waiting for everyone to arrive, we drank, drank and drank some more.  Finally, we head out into the night and try to find a place to dedicate out night to (since it is roughly 11:30pm).  We stumble upon a pub that looks inviting and crackin' enough. 

While hanging outside, my eyes lock with 6'2 Italian man with light eyes (not pictured).  BAM.  We both give the side eye to a girl tripping out of the bar wearing next to nothing in 10*C weather.  That's his in....He, joking, tells me not to judge, in next to perfect English.  Ok, funny man...let's see what you got.  His friend works at a restaurant and is throwing a Super Bowl party that they invite me to...and apologizing about the Niner's.  Thanks guys.  I make my way back into the bar to meet back with my classmates...dancing the night away to American music.  Given, it is songs by Cypress Hill, Nsync and the Backstreet boys but I am happily singing along. 

Before the night ends, Mr. 6'2 comes up to me asking if he can have my phone number.  I say, no...because I don't have a number.  He asks if I would like to meet him back at the bar at 12:30pm the next day... and I say YES. 

Stumbling home, I tell my roommate that I had just landed myself my

very first date in Florence, Italy...

to be continued..

da qualche parte là fuori..(somewhere out there)

It wasn’t until Monday night where things became real for me.  and it all started with a letter from my Mahoganizzle sister…

It was a letter about me…her version of me.  Have you ever known, really, in words how your closest friends feel about you?  It was so incredibility touching to know how much a person believes in you…loves you. So there I was, reading her letter in bed on my second to last night…crying.  THANKS.A.LOT.

The next day was filled with errands and packing.  I had my best and my main staying up with me to divide my life into 160 lbs.  It took a while and many attempts, but we got it.  I don’t get to talk to my best often…shoot we don’t even see each other on a regular basis…but he is always there.  It’s times like these that count the most and he is ALWAYS there to help me thru.  I talk to my main everyday…I see her every other day…and it’s the same thing every day.  I couldn’t tell you how many times she has saved me in a clutch play.  Or saved my life…in so many ways.  For this, I am forever thankful.

At 3:30am, my family and I get into the van and make our way to SFO.  I silently cry to myself in the back seat.  Mostly because I am thinking of all the things/people I will miss.  I’ve never been so far away from my family…from my younger brother.  It breaks my heart to know I won’t be able to see them at a drop of a dime.  I regret not spending more time with them…

Then finally at the airport, we have a goodbye committee to see us off and to make us cry.  bitches.  And then they pull the stunts of all stunts.  Mac and I receive an email that we are to read together.  It’s a slide show with messages from some of our closest people and our theme song(s) playing the background.  I am so touched that I can not help but cry hysterically at our gate.  I couldn’t ask for a better way to be seen off…really.  Now, anytime I am feeling down or a little homesick, I have this video to remind me of how much my family and friends support, believe in and love me.

I write my final chapter of my American life in 2012 on my plane ride from New Jersey to Rome. 

“And even though I know how very far apart we are…it helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star….”  (sing that shit CrystalMotherFuckenClear)

Excessive to a minimalist

I am..

I am a woman

I am a Filipina woman

I am a Filipina-American woman

therefore, I am excessive

By nature, women tend to be on the excessive side.  For example, it is NECESSARY for us to own at least 4 pairs of black shoes, have at least 5 purses and own at least 3 LBD's.  As Americans, we are force fed to be excessive.  For example, super size this, jumbo that and why do we have 10 different flavors of M&M's?  Now...has anyone heard of the famous Filipina..Imelda Marcos? 'Nuff said.  I was doomed from the beginning...

Now, I didn't always categorize myself as "excessive".  I actually thought that for a girl, I did pretty well (beside the shoes...I am known for my addiction to high heels/boots).  and I move just about every year so I try to keep my load light.  One of my mains and I actually have it down to a science and can do it in two trips with the party pilot.  So when it settled in that I would only be able to take two 50 lbs luggages and a carry on for my MOVE...I finally knew the truth.

Now how in the world am I 'pose to fit 100 pairs of shoes into 2.5 luggages?  Apparently, you can't.  So I had to down size.  I gave away a lot...and put even more in storage...and still managed to pack 12 pairs.  Shit, and that is JUST shoes. I don't even think that I am high maintenance (s/o to my boy who said, "You are not as high maintenance as you look") but I do require A LOT and a lot requires space.  Now I have never been there before, but I am told that there isn't a ton of space in Italy. Not to mention that I am the only one dragging my luggage from Rome, on to a 4 hour train ride to Italy and then out of the airport to the bed and breakfast.  And since I am finishing my packing tomorrow....I better start practicing how to be a minimalist....

...starting now...

The one thing I needed

"Its a catastrophe, but its the one I need"

A good friend of mine recently had me read a short story about a couple who held on to a slowly diminishing relationship.  It wasn't until shit hit the fan when both parties knew that it was really over and they both had to let go. The story hit a little close to home and brought on a wave of emotions for me.

You see, the ex and I were this couple.  Annoyingly happy in love, totally consumed with each other which in time became comfortable and complacent.  When the first break up happened, it seemed like a long time coming.  The fights, the all of a sudden low patience with one another, the nagging and absolutely no quality time.  We all of a sudden had different views on everything.  So shit hit the fan in the worst way.  Like, THE WORST.  So we took a 6 month break before realizing that we were "meant to be".  There wasn't a day I didn't think of him.  There wasn't a night I didn't yearn for him...and he felt the same way.  So we gave our love another try.  A short year passed and we found ourselves at our 5 year anniversary.  And just like history does, it repeated itself.  An even nastier ending than the first.  I thought that it was the catastrophe that I finally needed to just let go and let God.  But it was also paired with a unbelievable heartbreak that I never imagined possible.  After a deafening silence, we were back in touch but not back in the grove.  Optimistically, I would like to be friends.  He knows me better than anyone and I know him better than he knows himself.  Who knows, maybe after I get back...we'll both be changed and can do this for real.

So the holidays came around and this year was harder than I thought it was going to be.  There was no Christmas shopping together..no tree lighting ceremonies..no ice skating rink..no duraflame logs and a great bottle of Pinot.  It was just us pretending that things hadn't changed when they obviously have.  Christmas day, feeling more like shit, I called him cos he was once the only person that could make me smile.  The funny thing about the person who can make your day is that...well, they can turn that shit upside down.  It was such a simple question from him...that probably meant nothing..but for me, it killed me. So that was it.  Two big blow outs and a selfish comment later and I go back into silence.

I look back on the two catastrophes and wonder why I couldn't be strong enough to walk away then, either time.  I guess I had hope that one day my knight and shining armor would get the fuck off his high horse and sweep me off my feet.   But this is real life honey, there are no fairy tale endings...so while our love is still greater than anything anyone will ever understand...he finally gave me the "catastrophe" I needed to be able to board my plane in 6 days and begin my new adventure.