Tag: almost daily selfie

On 12.20.14, I posted this, but it turned out to be a lie. I certainly never set out to lie to you, dear reader, but it happened.

My car was resurrected from the dead, patched up, and declared fit to drive. I picked it up in February two days before the third massive snowfall in as many weeks. I grumbled something about evil spirits and gave my car the side eye as I shoveled it out again and again this (record setting) winter.

Despite the snow drifts suggesting otherwise and a lack of hope throughout the entire city, spring actually did arrive! My car and I were reunited as we made trips to the grocery store, condo open houses, and, you know, the usual, until the afternoon of 9.27.15 when brake lights were suddenly a lot closer than I expected, than they should be, and than they ever had been before.

On 10.1.15, after numerous phone calls and emails with my insurance company, I trudged to the underbelly of the auto shop, waded through the thick layer of dust, and said goodbye.

Despite it only having 64K miles on it, this car is from 1999, and has partied just like that. The fender bender left it more broken than bruised and so it was, for the second time, declared a total loss. For realsie. There was no patchwork or witchcraft or hocus pocus that could be done to save it. It only took about 5 minutes to gather up and clear out the remaining maps, phone charger, tire air pressure tools, EZ pass, bluetooth speaker, and license plates.

I left the snow brushes, 1/2 full bottle of road salt, and 1/4 full bottle of windshield washer fluid behind.

In the last lingering moments, I stood there with the mechanic by my side as I pondered how I got here, what shape would my life take now that I no longer own a car, and how he managed to unscrew and remove both my license plates in less than 30 seconds.

Maybe there is magic still crackling about?

I’ve never planned a trip so extensively as my recent trip to Spain.

I’ve never traveled with just Sister E.

I’ve never flown within a European country.

I’ve never visited a historic site that’s still in the process of being built.

I’ve never tried to navigate a color-coded metro system using a black&white printout.

I’ve never had a “local” friend before.

I’ve never had a European cell phone nor felt like such a hardcore, take charge spy when I used one.

I’ve never overlapped vacations and managed to make the most of the 5 hour overlap before.

I’ve never had food poisoning abroad.

I’ve never had a bus driver acknowledge me and then keep on driving abroad. (Oh, but I’ve had this done in the US.)

I’ve never bought walking sandals the day before vacation and had them not give me blisters. (I could have worn those babies all day and all night.)

I’ve never been not nervous when solo navigating my way around a large (or small) European city.

I’ve never studied people so hard trying to find and follow the tourists to the historic sights.

I’ve never insulted someone by saying thank you before.

I’ve never had sweet vermouth + a few drops of bitters + a toothpick with an orange and an olive and loved it so fiercely.

All these nevers left a lot of room for firsts, for a proper education, for diving in without checking the temperature of the water. I suggest you compile your own list of nevers and cross them off one by one or, heck, all at once. ;)

L: I just had a long dream about your wedding! Your hubbie is hot. You only dated a few months. You sis ([Sister J]) couldn’t get ready on time. I had to go pick her up with my work badge. We kept eating a lot of cookies. I also didn’t have time to do my hair so only one side was curly. Please don’t judge me in the pics. You’ll have to tell the full story.

It was 9:30pm Saturday night when the texts came through.

Texts which started out dreamy and ended up in reality as we covered updates in our love lives, reading lives, and work lives.

L: I’m in Myanmar/Burma as we speak for work.

Me: What time is it there?

L: 9am Sunday. Hence I just woke up when I texted you. I had to share!

Me: Oh!! The dream was fresh.

And so may be my love life now that I’m armed with book recommendations, real life advice, and gave some honest answers to tough questions. Dating is partially about getting to know another person, and partially about getting to know yourself. For now, it’s enough to be able to give a small update, to explain that I am trying, I am doing, and her supporting, sharing, encouraging. Two friends separated by too many countries to count united by dreams and technology.

L: I gotta run. Off to the market. Thanks for the chat. You entertained me over breakfast.

As she started her day, I ended mine and headed to bed, reaching for the tendrils of her dream, hoping they (and he) would be within reach.

How was your writing retreat in Prague, I said.

So good, KAK said, but I didn’t actually write much. Too busy taking notes and workshopping stories and meeting with teachers and living in that gorgeous city.

You were filling your creative well, I said.

Inspire also means to breathe, KAK said, so you inhale the experiences and as you exhale, you write about all the things you inhaled.

We were using different words to say the same thing.

Her words, however, trilled a familiar tune in me because, breathing, it’s something I do every day. I do it without thought, without effort, and with my eyes closed or open. Is writing really as easy as that? Can it be? Could it be? Maybe not. Probably not. But this is a simple way for me to approach the big bad beast of fumbling my way through my story. And overcoming that fear has been much too difficult of late.

I now know I just have to take this one breath at a time.