This afternoon started with great anticipation.
It was followed by frustration...which ultimately led to disappointment.
And then I just thought, "Hell... I'm going to go have some fun." Shoot some pool. Drink some drinks. Hang out with my parents. Talk to the neighbors. Enjoy the company of others.
What I discovered is that I had a lot of fun, and I was able to walk away from a feeling of "unworthiness," and experience feelings of satisfaction. I realize that drunkenly making correlations between this and anything more is a risky thing to do, but I am going to do it anyway.
Live your life. Don't sit around and wait. Don't sit and spew and let negativity bring you down. Find things that make you happy and do them. Let your dad share his high school memories of ridiculous songs (check out Skunk Dead in The Middle Of a Road for my exact example) and enjoy them. Share stories and grow. Help your neighbors realize there is more to life, even if they might not remember it in the morning. Stand up for yourself and your last three years of questionable decisions if you believe that what you were doing was right at the time, even when doing so offends your best friend at the moment, because best friends will eventually understand. Listen to really good music and talk about how those songs affected you when you first heard them.
And then come home and listen to more good music and share it with others. Then sit down and write about the entire experience.
More than once today I had to remind myself, out loud, while driving in my car, that I have a lot of really good things to happy and positive about. I had to remind myself that the cliche of everything happening for a reason is a cliche FOR A REASON. Luckily, I drive mainly on quiet highways, so there was no one nearby to comment on the crazy person talking to herself. And you know what??? Sometimes, I DO answer myself. So if that makes me certifiable, so be it. Sometimes you have to hear things out loud to believe them.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
It's been a while...
There's really no excuse for not writing sooner. I had planned to write a sort of summary of my experience in Thailand, but then, you know, life happened.
It's still hard for me to answer the question, "How was your trip?" "It was amazing," is what I generally feel a blanket question like that deserves for an answer, but upon saying that I immediately feel guilty about not saying more. It wasn't a trip, for starters. It was a mind blowing experience. And how was it? What do you expect as an answer?? Do you really think I am going to say "it was lame," because, if so, you are an idiot.
Anyway, I don't really know WHAT to say about it. There are moments where I feel like it is all slipping away, like it was some illusion or intense dream. And then a friend will share an article or show me a link, and paging through those pictures brings back memories that reassure me I really did just do all that. It's hard to describe in one conversation how my experience "was." I mean, we could talk about the differences in culture, the differences in time schedules, the differences in health/safety/sanitation/driving/building codes or regulations, or rather, the complete lack thereof. We could talk about the things I saw and the places I went. We could talk about how Buddhism permeates every aspect of their lives. We could talk about my view of the education system. We could talk about the islands and their beauty, the friendliness of the locals, the always exciting and surprising cuisine. We could talk about some of my dumb moments in Bangkok, but then you will probably judge me and be shocked that I made it out alive. We could talk about the politics, but really, after everything I saw and experienced, THAT'S what you want to talk about?? Ugh... I mean, I gladly will, because I understand it well, but you could read that shit on the internet.
The fact of the matter is that 87% of everyone asking doesn't give a real damn about it, they just want to hear that I had fun, hear that I thought it was worthwhile, and then they want to move on. They don't want to be reminded about the fact that they have never done anything so exciting. So... I usually just say, "It was amazing, truly. I am very blessed to have gone." And that settles it.
So, the next question on everyone's mind is: "What's next for ya?" Or, even better, "what have you been doing since you got back?" I have found that depending on who asks this question, they are getting at one of two things. 1) Now that you slacked off for the last half a year, are you going to get serious with your life or go somewhere else and slack off some more? or 2) Did you actually figure anything out about the rest of your life, or are you just as confused as when you left? For the first 6 weeks of my return to America, the answer to either would be a loud "I don't know!!!" Only very recently have things started to come into focus.
I found myself waiting, and waiting....and waiting. Wondering what to do, waiting to see what would happen. Waiting to see if my boss wanted me to come back, waiting to see if something better would come along. Waiting to see if my brain would sort itself out on its own. Waiting to see if the haze of depression would subside. Waiting to see if I would want to leave or if I would want to stay. Waiting to see if there was anything for me in Northern Wisconsin or if it truly was time to find a new city. Waiting to see if friendships would ever really return to normal. Waiting to see if people would pull their heads out of the their asses. Waiting.
I had half a dozen obstacles present themselves within the first weeks (even days) of coming home. Drama with people, issues with dogs, crazy hoarders and a frenzy of drama sorting through all that. Life seemed like this absurd movie with no real plot, one that you walk away from scratching your head, confused and tired. But then, the dust started to settle; I removed myself from the drama that was removable from, I started working a little bit, and I started to see through the haze of the post-adventure depression. Things started coming into perspective and making sense.
And then Tuesday evening happened.
Sitting at the computer, I entered the dog show which I had waited until the absolute last minute to decide on, and then I opened my email. There it was, my invitation back to Thailand. Just sitting there like this golden apple, waiting to be plucked off its tree. That night a few hours later he called, and rather than rationally discussing how things would BE if I went back, I just hurriedly agreed to returning to the country in less than two weeks, what would now be next Monday. I ran downstairs and filled mom in on the details and then raced back upstairs to cancel my entry to the dog show, since I would now be out of the country that weekend. I emailed a handful of people, posted to facebook about an exciting phone call, and then rethought it and deleted it since I didn't even have a plane ticket yet. I definitely got mixed reviews. Some people were happy for me, others were completely confused. Whatever, I didn't care, I finally got asked back!
And then not even two days later, one of the "real" jobs I had applied to while I was sorting out my life in the previous weeks called me for an interview. Well SHIT!!! Now what do I do?! I knew enough to call them back to schedule the interview, but the question remained, what do I WANT to do? It took several days to sort through it all once again. As a 28 year old, how could I pass up a career job, one that seemed tailor made for me and my experience in the professional world? One that offered real long term potential and would serve as an excellent stepping stone into the career that I was so longing to start pursuing. So, I emailed my boss in Thailand and told him plans would have to be paused until I knew if I was going to get this job or not. And that's where I stand today.
The last ten weeks have been a whirlwind. I am not even sure how in the hell June is almost half over. If only winter went this quickly, right? Most of those weeks were spent in an odd state of suspension, uncertain of my footing as I toyed with my next move. But things are starting to feel concrete again, so here's to that! It's always a good sign when I start writing again. ;)
It's still hard for me to answer the question, "How was your trip?" "It was amazing," is what I generally feel a blanket question like that deserves for an answer, but upon saying that I immediately feel guilty about not saying more. It wasn't a trip, for starters. It was a mind blowing experience. And how was it? What do you expect as an answer?? Do you really think I am going to say "it was lame," because, if so, you are an idiot.
Anyway, I don't really know WHAT to say about it. There are moments where I feel like it is all slipping away, like it was some illusion or intense dream. And then a friend will share an article or show me a link, and paging through those pictures brings back memories that reassure me I really did just do all that. It's hard to describe in one conversation how my experience "was." I mean, we could talk about the differences in culture, the differences in time schedules, the differences in health/safety/sanitation/driving/building codes or regulations, or rather, the complete lack thereof. We could talk about the things I saw and the places I went. We could talk about how Buddhism permeates every aspect of their lives. We could talk about my view of the education system. We could talk about the islands and their beauty, the friendliness of the locals, the always exciting and surprising cuisine. We could talk about some of my dumb moments in Bangkok, but then you will probably judge me and be shocked that I made it out alive. We could talk about the politics, but really, after everything I saw and experienced, THAT'S what you want to talk about?? Ugh... I mean, I gladly will, because I understand it well, but you could read that shit on the internet.
The fact of the matter is that 87% of everyone asking doesn't give a real damn about it, they just want to hear that I had fun, hear that I thought it was worthwhile, and then they want to move on. They don't want to be reminded about the fact that they have never done anything so exciting. So... I usually just say, "It was amazing, truly. I am very blessed to have gone." And that settles it.
So, the next question on everyone's mind is: "What's next for ya?" Or, even better, "what have you been doing since you got back?" I have found that depending on who asks this question, they are getting at one of two things. 1) Now that you slacked off for the last half a year, are you going to get serious with your life or go somewhere else and slack off some more? or 2) Did you actually figure anything out about the rest of your life, or are you just as confused as when you left? For the first 6 weeks of my return to America, the answer to either would be a loud "I don't know!!!" Only very recently have things started to come into focus.
I found myself waiting, and waiting....and waiting. Wondering what to do, waiting to see what would happen. Waiting to see if my boss wanted me to come back, waiting to see if something better would come along. Waiting to see if my brain would sort itself out on its own. Waiting to see if the haze of depression would subside. Waiting to see if I would want to leave or if I would want to stay. Waiting to see if there was anything for me in Northern Wisconsin or if it truly was time to find a new city. Waiting to see if friendships would ever really return to normal. Waiting to see if people would pull their heads out of the their asses. Waiting.
I had half a dozen obstacles present themselves within the first weeks (even days) of coming home. Drama with people, issues with dogs, crazy hoarders and a frenzy of drama sorting through all that. Life seemed like this absurd movie with no real plot, one that you walk away from scratching your head, confused and tired. But then, the dust started to settle; I removed myself from the drama that was removable from, I started working a little bit, and I started to see through the haze of the post-adventure depression. Things started coming into perspective and making sense.
And then Tuesday evening happened.
Sitting at the computer, I entered the dog show which I had waited until the absolute last minute to decide on, and then I opened my email. There it was, my invitation back to Thailand. Just sitting there like this golden apple, waiting to be plucked off its tree. That night a few hours later he called, and rather than rationally discussing how things would BE if I went back, I just hurriedly agreed to returning to the country in less than two weeks, what would now be next Monday. I ran downstairs and filled mom in on the details and then raced back upstairs to cancel my entry to the dog show, since I would now be out of the country that weekend. I emailed a handful of people, posted to facebook about an exciting phone call, and then rethought it and deleted it since I didn't even have a plane ticket yet. I definitely got mixed reviews. Some people were happy for me, others were completely confused. Whatever, I didn't care, I finally got asked back!
And then not even two days later, one of the "real" jobs I had applied to while I was sorting out my life in the previous weeks called me for an interview. Well SHIT!!! Now what do I do?! I knew enough to call them back to schedule the interview, but the question remained, what do I WANT to do? It took several days to sort through it all once again. As a 28 year old, how could I pass up a career job, one that seemed tailor made for me and my experience in the professional world? One that offered real long term potential and would serve as an excellent stepping stone into the career that I was so longing to start pursuing. So, I emailed my boss in Thailand and told him plans would have to be paused until I knew if I was going to get this job or not. And that's where I stand today.
The last ten weeks have been a whirlwind. I am not even sure how in the hell June is almost half over. If only winter went this quickly, right? Most of those weeks were spent in an odd state of suspension, uncertain of my footing as I toyed with my next move. But things are starting to feel concrete again, so here's to that! It's always a good sign when I start writing again. ;)
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