If you’re here thinking this is a Game of Thrones reference, go away. I never watched it.
I had a whole long post about my birthday and what each year was like for me in my 20s. I wrote about being alone, traveling on your birthday and how hard it is. How expectation vs. reality is brutal sometimes.
The truth is, it is hard. It’s hard because not only is it the same as trying to make friends as an adult anywhere, add in not speaking the language, add in not knowing where I am, add in basically camping because you have no privacy. Add in walking 9 miles a day because that’s all you know how to do, add in permanent money stress and future stress.
But then, after being pushed so hard by life to get the point, I finally got the point. And as if life sighed an eternal sigh, all my expectations met my reality right in the middle. Which I write about here.
Anyway, moments like these it makes me realise that I cannot fucking believe I survived my 20s.
I decade of illness, discomfort, insecurity and general indifference. (Of course, also growth, happiness, overcoming fears and carving out a more realistic version of myself. A good foundation for continuing into my next decade).
Well I’m here to tell you now, I’m over it. No more identity crises, no more financial stupidity, no more putting stuff off for me to deal with when I’m 30. No more working jobs that make me miserable, no more putting my passions and goals off. No more ignoring the signs, the symptoms, the surroundings. Nuh uh. No more.
This is me. Traveling through Europe, getting a gd spa treatment in a French spa, stupid as can be and embracing all the cute things that make me up.
Okay?! (talking to myself, sorry, also taking resumes for a hype-man)
Anyway, Lyon is nice. I love the cold here. The Saône and Rhône rivers cradle the downtown city of Lyon. They’re so cold and beautiful and allow for a sort of indulgent emptiness. You know the kind when you’re thousands of miles away from everything you’ve ever known and it’s both so amazing and so overwhelming? A good feeling.
The whole reason I chose Lyon was for the Festival of Lights, which happened this past weekend. I was expecting some cool stuff, but what they do with the city is actually magical. Everyone (literally everyone on the planet) is there, and there are vendors and little French children and me (and vin chaud, which I’ll be having again in Frankfurt under the guise glühwein).
Okay. Rebecca St. James. Of all the albums I listened to, this was the hardest. It’s the most classically Christian in that she sings her love and praise of Jesus in every song. One of her songs is literally about waiting to have sex until you’re married. It’s the sounds of the late 90s and has also the values of the the late 90s. Narrowly choked it down, and honestly didn’t try very hard. PASS.
I’m just (really slowly, over the course of four weeks) ripping the bandaid off with these albums. There’s pretty much nothing else that can be done from Volume Two (things like go to your brother’s favorite place with him, knit a blanket for someone in need, grow in playing the piano aren’t super accessible at the moment, so I’ll circle back around when it’s possible).
This week is Almost There by Nashville based MercyMe. I’m not pumped. So, there’s that.
If you follow my Instagram you may have seen that I purchased a website to update this blog and make it cuter. Well, they promptly banned my account because it was purchased in Spain with an American credit card. They required that I send photo ID and a bank statement to prove I am who I am. Which I wasn’t willing to do, because that’s a weird hoop to have to jump through for a blog pretty much only my mom reads. So for now, this is it, though the bug is in me now, and I imagine, at some point this year, I’ll be making some changes.
Next week I’ll be writing from Frankfurt, Germany. Christmas markets and pretzels galore (hopefully? Expectation vs. reality)!
Wish me luck this week and do me a favor; try and accept the things that stress you out about yourself. Like, the ugly bits. You don’t have to love it, but it might reward you to know that it’s the foundation with which you can build your pyramid.
JACLAND 