Tag: jacland

Am I Finally Living?

I remember being a kid and having these intense feelings of needing to run. Fast. I just wanted to fly through the trees, wind in my hair, to get to a place where I could scream at the top of my lungs and not have to explain myself to anyone.

I wanted to be wild.

That sentiment stayed with me as I searched for the feeling in every move I made. In every person I met. In every “yes” to a situation I wasn’t entirely sold on.

Being out here like this, completely free to come and go, able to leave when I’m ready, to stay when I want, to say no, to say yes, to learn, to be afraid… it’s the most wild I’ve ever felt and I feel wide open. I feel like the wind is rushing through my chest and I’m flying so fast.

That monotony of seeing the same faces, the same walls, riding the same routes, shopping in the same sections, it’s never present.

The amazing strangers of Frankfurt

Last week I was drinking cheap beer from the bar at my hostel with a Slovenian girl, an Australian guy and his German girlfriend in Frankfurt, Germany. This week I’m drinking red wine and eating French pizza my friends from New York in Paris, France.

Sharon, Francisco and I in Paris

THIS. IS. LIVING. I feel alive. I’m learning more about myself than I’ve ever done, more about the world, more about what it means to be a good person, more about what it means to accept the proper love and care I deem necessary for myself. And it’s always changing. Maybe I’m addicted to change, in which case it’s not so healthy. Maybe I love freedom to come and go. Someday I’ll get tired of sharing rooms with strangers, tired of the snore-symphony, tired of the backpack or the lack of privacy, or the cigarette smoke.

But at this moment, this is what I’m supposed to be doing, and it feels insane. I’ve had these feelings of being in the right place at the right time before. I’ve felt the sense of belonging before, and maybe that’s what I’ve been searching for all this time. That same sensation of just feeling right. Feeling like I exist properly. It’s here in these coffee shops, in the freezing cold parks because I can’t afford museums, it’s here in the bookstores with foreign titles. I belong out here like this right now.

AND IT RULESSSSSS!!!!!!! I want always to be a boy and to have fun.

The strikes have been an issue, but we’re resilient. Fran and Sharon went to Luxembourg for a night and couldn’t get home for a whole day. It was scary but they survived and I got two nights alone. I cannot express to you what it means to be alone in a nice place, where I’m not sharing space with anyone. I’m rejuvenated.

Our AirBnB

On another note, I MADE IT. I finally made it. I’ve finished my last Christian album (at least of this journal). I couldn’t be more thrilled, and want to thank my mom for reading through each, painful experience. You’re a trooper and a good woman.

Kevin Max’s album Stereotype Be can best be described as that person in your required poetry class in college who takes it way too seriously and comments the worst shit about your poems when you’re just trying to get a passing grade so you can move onto the shit you actually care about (I loved poetry class in college. I also hated that girl who even corrected the way I pronounced my words).

He pulls influences from a lot of popular artists (U2, the Beatles, Peter Gabriel) but it all kinda feels like coffee shop bands, the guys who love music so much – too much – so they kinda just rip off what they’re hearing.

It has “world music” influences, as every review says, and also includes spoken word poetry. The last song on the album is the dreaded 2 minute song, then a 2 minute brick of silence, and then a whole other song.

Least favorite. His book was better than his album.

Next week I’ll be in Madrid, Spain having spent three nights with Sharon and Francisco at a friend’s house. By Monday I’ll have already checked into a hostel for five nights in Madrid. Excited to be back in Spain, excited to see how it differs from Barcelona. Excited for more and more and more new shit all the time.

The world doesn’t run out of new shit to see and do, right?!

Which leads me to my last project of Volume Two for now. I’ve got loads of other things to do from this volume, but they aren’t entirely accessible at this time. So, as a parting gift to myself, after weeks of bad music, I’ve left this for last. With no context whatsoever, I wanted to know who Miles Davis was. So I’m gonna get to know Miles Davis over the next couple months.

Next week we’ll be launching into the Twilight Zone Volume Three. The first quarter of it was written in 2004 as a 14 year old creep. Then it picks back up at the angsty, Danny-obsessed 16 year old we leave behind in Volume Two. Good bye weeks and weeks of sickness, good bye mostly Christian influence (don’t get too comfy, I practiced Christianity pretty much until I was 18).

It’s a whirlwind. I have some big goals for V3. Like, actually possibly unattainably big. That, or I’ll be going back to college, giving modeling another go, and learning Portuguese.

Bye Volume Two, finally gd

Wish me luck this week and see you in Spain ❤

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GERMAN BATH HOUSE

My two week stay in Frankfurt has been A LOT.

I learned recently that though I find it useful to be a flexible person, able to go with the flow, it’s rather important for me to have opinions and make decisions based on what my personal goals are.

Shak, pommes and I by Sam

Time comes and goes here, and I don’t seem to notice. I’ve eaten a lot (a lot) at the Christmas Market, and I’ve met a lot of people. Both of which are good and fine, but I’ve hardly explored, I’ve hardly written. I’m spending money like I’m not 100% in survival mode. It’s important for me to understand that I’m on this trip alone, and everyone else is on their own trips with their own plans.

That being said, what I learned this week is something that I’m still trying to piece together.

After several shots of honey whiskey, honey vodka, honey gin, honey wine, and honey schnapps, I talked with the absolute dreamboat, Victoria, whom I met in New York just before I left for Europe. She’s in Sweden for her birthday, and after a few minutes of joking about meeting up, we booked tickets to get together in Berlin the following morning.

So six hours later, I was on a train. I was stressed about being on the move again, I was nervous to see her after a month of being away, I was excited to be out of Frankfurt, hanging with a person I really like and checking out Berlin.

Victoria and the Berlin Wall

For a short trip, we covered a lot of ground. We went ice skating at the Christmas market, we went to the Spy Museum, we walked all over the city. We took a bunker tour about the Berlin Wall that was both fascinating, emotional and riveting. The guide was a master storyteller and had perfect suspense and pacing. We walked through the bunkers of Berlin learning the history of the wall and about the specific accounts of people trying to tunnel in and out of the city to reunite with their loved ones. It really was incredible.

We went to the Memorial of Murdered Jews of Europe to see the chilling memorial. We walked through the museum and read accounts of people writing their last letters, and reading the accounts of all the lives that were needlessly lost.

Memorial of Murdered Jews of Europe

One day I woke up to find out Victoria’s friend had gotten us vouchers to a German Bath House. I didn’t know much about those establishments, but had some weird, creepy ideas that had no origin.

Honestly, I didn’t ever say it, but I was nervous. I wanted to go because I wanted to know what it even was. I wasn’t sure I had any idea what a bath house would be like. But I also hate putting myself in uncomfortable and potentially dangerous situations, and a nude bath house seemed like a ripe place for that.

HOWEVER!

We showed up to this bougie-ass complex where they had smooth music, and a no cell phone policy, and couches, and scents, and everyone whispered. We got into our robes and went inside this massive spa. I mean it had different wings, a ton of different, specialised saunas, indoor and outdoor pools and hot tubs, yoga and mediation rooms. Everything was beautiful and clean and there were hundreds of naked people. Hundreds.

Listen, I’m pro-nudity, and if you know me, then you know I’m shy about very little. Still, I’ve never been in a room with loads of other naked people before. We were a little conservative at first but de-robed and popped into a sauna that had probably twenty naked people in it. We found our spots, and just sweat in silence. The room had a window overlooking the outdoor part of the complex, and it was cold outside and beautifully lit and everything was so relaxing. Straight up, IT. WAS. AMAZING.

We went into the outdoor pool and swam around. We were never too close to many other people, and if we were (in a sauna session where a dude swung plants over our heads and my knee was touching a stranger’s knee – or the outdoor hot tub where we sat pretty much shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of naked strangers) no one fucked with us. No one was fucking with anyone else for that matter. Everyone was there, like Victoria and I, to just chill out and enjoy a nice, relaxing couple of hours.

I forgot I had physical insecurities, because though we’re all respecting each other, we’re all seeing A LOT of other nude people. Different bodies, shapes, sizes, colors. It was kinda beautiful to be with so many people who shed the things we put on every morning to hide our darkest fears from people. It was beautiful to just be with Victoria under the stars in a pool, laughing and happy, just (literally) hanging out.

It also showed me that sometimes the fears I have about things are completely made up by me. In this circumstance I mean that I’m holding onto anger and fear about men pretty much all the time. Especially in countries where I don’t really know what they’ve gone through to get wherever they are with equality. In the states I’m comfortable, and pretty rarely fucked with. Out here, I just don’t know, so I always assume the worst.

While I think it’s incredibly important to be cautious, harbouring these really negative feelings toward pretty much half the people I come up against is actually perpetuating the inequality, and damaging my own sense of peace in the world. Yes, women should be demanding and receiving respect, yes, men need to be held accountable for any wrongdoings, like anyone else.

But I’m starting to see that if I expect to have a dangerous experience because men are present, I’m the problem. I’m perpetuating that hate and that negativity especially when it turns out to be literally magical.

Berlin was awesome, it was so great to see Victoria, life is insane. 100% would recommend Vabali Bath House in Frankfurt. Shit’s wild.

This week is Christmas, and I believe I’ll be hanging out with my Australian hostel buddy, Jaydes and his dad. I imagine cigarettes and “well fuck all” will be involved. On Thursday I hop a train and head to meet my friends Sharon and Francisco from New York in Paris, France.

The strikes are still on, so we aren’t sure what to expect but our AirBnB host has been very present and giving us updates and advice on how to handle everything. I’m excited to be with friends, I’m excited to move on from Frankfurt. I’m excited that I’m out here, living like this, I love my life everything is wild just as it should be.

NOW. Sixpence None the Richer’s Divine Discontent. It’s actually a dope album. I didn’t do any proper research on this one, but only a few songs were hard to get down. The rest are very nineties, early 2000s style hits and even some radio classics are on the album. I’d listen to it any day, regardless of some of the religious undertones.

My last Christian album is upon me. Finally! It’s Kevin Max (of DC Talk)’s album Stereotype Be. I imagine, much like his book, this album will be an account of him begging to be understood. We’ve all been there. It’s my last Christian album, and then it’s over! Woop!

From out here to you wherever you are, Happy Christmas to those who celebrate. Happy Wednesday to those who don’t. <3<3

Wish me luck this week, and get out there and try something weird.

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Boundaries and Decisions

Calling all readers!!! I finally got some constructive feedback from an agent on the middle grade book I wrote earlier this year. It’s too short! I need the help of my friends (you) to read the lil story and help me figure out where I can expand.

Any takers??? I’ll email you the link, or if you prefer, I’ve posted it quite a while back on my Medium account where most of my story writing goes. I don’t currently have it in chapters. Should I? Any other feedback?

In other news, I bought another website. So far it looks like they don’t give a shit who and how it’s paid for, so maybe it’s mine. I met a computer guy who figured out how to get it set up (thanks Sam). Now I just need to meet a designer who knows how to make it look like a website. Anyway, stay tuned.

FRANKFURT. Ok, it’s nothing, not a single thing like France (obvi). I made friends within fifteen minutes of being here. And then more, and then more and then the first ones left and new ones came.

The Canadians

It’s a great place if you’re really just looking to party and hang and shoot the shit. Which I’m not entirely opposed to. However, I’m also a writer. So I’ll sit down with my computer to get some work done and someone will come up to me. Two hours later I decide to just shut my computer. It’s not happening.

The same can be said about exploration. We get into these conversations and then more people show up, and next thing I know it’s 2am and I haven’t left the hostel the entire day (hot and uncomfortable topics include politics, histories of countries, global warming, healthcare, feminism and animal rights).

The Christmas market is very cool. I could die here, face down in a mountain of sweets and apfelwein. They have pretzels, chocolate covered everything, breads and nuts and cookies and hot wine. It’s very dangerous.

I also went on a pub crawl with one Englishman, two Australians and Two Canadians. It was a night.

Those same two Canadians invited me to Heidelberg, a town about an hour and half bus ride away. There’s said to be castles. We, however, left at 2:30pm, so by the time we showed up everything was about an hour from closing.

So instead we went to the Student Prison, which was not as cool as it sounded. I mean it was cool, but it wasn’t German lore we’re sold in the states.

The kids would go to this little jail if they were being punks in school, or mischievous in the streets, or disrespectful to cops. Then in school, as it said in the program, for the first two days they’d get only bread and water. After that they could have anything they want. Even beer if they requested it.

So these kids just spent their time making up the walls with silhouettes, paintings and carvings. Then two weeks later they were out. It became a bragging right. “You were only in for four days? Ha! I was in for two weeks.” So kids would do dumb shit just to get back in.

Anyway, it’s been weird and wild. I’m here for another 10 days, and I believe I’m learning lessons about boundaries. Days will go by and I’ll have done none of the things I’ve intended to do because I get sucked into some chats or gone off to do what other people want to do.

None of it’s bad, but boundaries are important. Having opinions and making decisions are all very important. It takes confidence that I’m lacking a little bit to tell people no. It’s easier and more friendly to go with the flow. Which I recognising I do far too much. I’ve always really appreciated my ability to go with the flow, but I’m starting to realise I sacrifice what I actually want when I do this. So balance and boundaries. I’m sure I’ll have loads more to say about this after the next 10 days.

Lastly, I hardly listened to MercyMe! Because it’s hella not my jam. The twangy Southern tunes with the Christian content was just not my vibe this week. I remember I Can Only Imagine being played throughout my whole youth in my house and in the church, etc. So I guess if you’re into Christian music, this is for you.

I’ve only got two albums left, and this week I’m going for Sixpence None the Richer’s Divine Discontent. I’m a fan of a few of the secular songs by these guys, so maybe it’ll be manageable.

I’ll still be here next week, so hopefully I get a little more exploration done, and get something of a website together.

Wish me luck this week and READ MY STORY HELLLLPPPPP.

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You Know Nothing.

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.

Somewhere in 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.

Me in Lyon, France

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).

Fête des Lumières

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.

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This is My Life

I laugh at the thought of last week’s project. “Be gentle and kind today. Show self control, joy and peace.”

The Green Spot

How does one have self control when there’s SO MUCH FOOD. Seriously, friends. I’ve had the best Indian food in my life, a mascarpone and coffee cinnamon roll that nearly killed me. I’d like to be drowned in red vermut, please, and also had take away pizza that made me sweat.

Joy and peace, that’s more of a moment to moment thing. Of course I’m in Barcelona, it’s hard to feel joyless. But some moments I’m too afraid to try and speak to people, some times I’m too exhausted to try. I’ve been averaging about 9 miles of walking a day.

Still, Casa Mila, despite being a total tourist destination, was the most peace I’ve had in a week. The incredible architecture, the history, it was so therapeutic and inspiring. I want to fly away. I want to write music and paint a mural and swim in the middle of the ocean. Most of Gaudí’s architecture has that affect.

La Pedrera

AND Y’ALL, THE SMELLS HERE. (I wrote a piece about my favorite part of Barcelona here). Everything, no seriously everything smells so good. The streets smell good, the lavender, the basil, anise everywhere, incense. So floral and warm. The air just smells so good. The parks?! Don’t even get me started. If I’ve learned anything from Barcelona it’s that even your dingy AirBnB rooms can smell like flowers and cinnamon and eucalyptus if you just try. That scent is more than an appearance, it’s an environment. It’s a history.

As far as the album This is Your Life by Out of Eden goes, it’s not entirely “walking through Spain” music. It’s like a full album of the least popular songs on Destiny’s Child’s first album. Like early J.Lo or Ashanti, but the ones that you only listened to once and don’t know the words to.

It’s def catchy, but then you realise you’re saying “On a day like today, all has gone wrong and my life seems crazy. Gotta hold on, smile on my face. Cause I know the sun’s gonna shine my way.”

Which is just inherently not my style. Like, if you’re into this kinda stuff you’re 100% not reading this blog right now.

This time next week I’ll be Lyon, France AND it will be my birthday. My 30th birthday. So you’ve been warned. I expect well-wishes. I’m also taking myself to get a day long spa treatment because I’ll be lonely and sad lol

I leave on Wednesday and I’m very excited for another new adventure. It’ll also be my first hostel. Which, as I’m in bed at midnight right now writing, wonder how much it’s going to change everything I know. *Please bring me friends, travel gods.*

Alright, I’ve got four more Christian albums and I’m really running out of anything else to do. Soooo, I’ll make this short:

Transform by Rebecca St. James.

That’s all folks.
Wish me luck this week and I’ll see you in France!

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Barcelona

HOLA ESTOY EN BARCELONA.

I flew in at 6:45am today. I haven’t slept, and my AirBnb is preeeeetty gross, so I’ve been wandering around the city since I arrived.

It’s weird being here. It feels like vacation rather than my new life, but that’s to be expected.

I’ve already learned that espresso and coffee con leche are the two things people get at cafes. I also learned that coffee con leche is both delicious and dangerous because I’m pretty sure the “leche” is just full fat cream.

I learned of a carajillo, which is espresso with a shot of anise liquor, which I’ll be trying tomorrow for breakfast. Croissants here are a little more yellow, and the people don’t speak as much English as I was led to believe.

Day one, babyyyyy. My plug-in adapter doesn’t work so everything is a little scary. THIS is livin.

The most appropriate thing for me to tackle this week is easing myself into all the newness.

March 1 [2005] 5:42pm
“*Be gentle & kind today. Show self-control, joy & peace.”

I can’t be 100% sure, but I’m 99% sure this was another Revolve Girl thing. It’s just so pure.

It’s also totally valid when at this current moment I’m between a rock and hard place wanting so badly to go to sleep for 12 hours but not wanting to be inside my airbnb. The toilet is in the shower. So just gentle nurturing as this jet lag settles down and I come to terms with the sewer smell in the house.

Couldn’t you use a lil gentle nurturing too???

I’m also going to take on another Christian album because in the stream of nurturing myself I finally decided to pay for Spotify and can now listen to endless songs about the Lord’s love reigning down on us.

I’m going for Out of Eden’s This is Your Life. So far the most I know about it is they sing a lot about how people think they’re party girls but they’re really just living it up for G-O-D.

Anyway, I have streets to wander, so follow my instagram for updates on this absolutely batshit crazy decision I made to travel Europe for a year.

Wish me luck this week and wish extra hard that I don’t get a foot fungus or some other shower/toilet related issue.

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I Got You, Babe

As of now, I’m unemployed and homeless. Woo! I’m just a couple weeks away from leaving the country and I’m currently on my way to stay at my Aunt Sue’s house in Sea Girt, New Jersey.

It felt amazing to wrap up the Marathon, and my friends threw me a really fun going away party. I’m happy. I’m nervous. I’m excited.

Per last week’s project, here’s my bit about looking out for others:

Some people are born knowing what they want to do, they do it and they love it. Those people have to remind themselves through the daily hardships that its worth it. Just because it’s their passion it doesn’t mean it’s not a struggle every single day. We all know a teacher or a nurse who’s working full-time, taking care of children and loves going to grad/nursing school but is always on the brink of snapping and murdering someone.

Some people choose a career path, they fight their way to the end and when they get there, they realize it’s not the thing. It isn’t the key to unlocking who they are or want to be.

Some people wake up every day and have no idea what they’re doing. They don’t know how they got there, what they’ll do next, they don’t know if they’ll ever know (Hi. Enjoy my true face).

All of these things are okay, and they’re all hard, and everyone feels like this. Everyone wants purpose and fights an uphill battle to figure out what that purpose is. You’re not alone and you’re not broken and you’re not wrong. Being alive is complicated, so just take a deep breath, strike those middle fingers to the sky and keep fighting the good fight.

Onward. I, for the first time in my life, only own one book. If you know me and have seen any of my living spaces, then you know most of my furniture is usually made from stacks of books. So this is big (and depressing). Tiny Jac had one passing thought that she did not elaborate on whatsoever.

May 22 [2006]:
“I want to get into poetry”

That’s it. I don’t even know where it came from, but whatever, the sentiment is still true.

I took all the way up to advanced poetry classes in college and deeply love writing poetry but have very little knowledge of who the founding poets are. I know it’s subjective and vast, but I’ve read very little and know very little about poets and poetry.

So starting this week I’ll start getting into poetry. I have a Robert Frost tattoo on my leg (my mom gets The Road Not Taken and Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening mixed together and I always thought it was charming growing up. So I got and miles to go before I sleep tattooed on me. Also my life has been exhausting, so it’s just kinda relevant). I guess I’ll start there.

I have more names of poets I want to test out in WAY later journals from college, but on my computer reading list I had Rupi Kaur’s Milk and Honey. Some of my college favorites were beat writers (Lawrence Ferlingetti, Frank O’Hara etc.) but I’d like women and queer poets as well. I’m excited, I love reading, poetry is wonderful, let’s do this.

Also, an update, my very first JACLAND post was about writing a kid’s fantasy book. A few days ago I got my first rejection letter from an agent. So what’s up. Makin moves.

Wish me luck and hit me with your favorite poets.

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The Pen is Blue

I lied all week.

If you’re just coming in, last week I vowed to tell the truth for seven whole days. To be fair (to myself) I don’t lie often and especially not about serious things. But the little ones you just spit out without thinking all week, that’s what I’m after.

And I did it all week without even trying to stop a single time. It’s actually exhausting monitoring yourself. Try it sometime. Especially when you’re technically homeless, working NYC’s largest city-wide event of the year and prepping to move out of the country.

So every once in a while I heard myself say something like “I’m sorry, I completely forgot,” when I didn’t technically forget, I just purposely put it out of my mind. Or “Yeah let’s totally get together before I leave,” when I know 110% I’m not going to see them in the one week have before I go to Jersey for 10 days.

It’s not painful lying, but it is lying. It’s just quicker than saying, “Yo, I totally want to hang out with you and it sucks but I don’t really have time. It’s not because I don’t value you as a person, or think you’re worth the few moments of time I have, it’s just I have people who have invested a lot of themselves into me whom I owe my time to at this point.”

Ya know?

Anyway, NaNaWriMo is going poorly. Mostly because of the marathon (which went well and I have never been so happy something is over). But my last day is Friday, and then I have loads of time to catch up…

Over 50,000 people

The project this week as I finish up in the warehouse is to look out for others first. I’ve had a short fuse the last couple weeks and I’m noticing it’s because somewhere inside myself I believe I’m due respect. Which I’m not. Respect is given by people who believe it’s been earned. It’s not demanded.

So join me this week in getting out of our own asses and behaving in a way that would generate respect rather than telling people they need to have it for you.

Wish me luck and good luck back to you.

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Listen All Y’all It’s a Sabotage

As of November 1st, I’ll be without home, already living from my backpack I’m taking to Europe with me. I work the NYC Marathon until the 8th of November. From there I’ll go to New Jersey to spend time with all my Aunts. On the 20th I’ll come back up, find a place to stay and say good bye to New York for a year. On the 24th of November, I fly one way to Barcelona where I’ll be through the end of November into December.

So, yeah, I understand that it’s a dumb idea to do NaNoWriMo again this year. But I feel like I haven’t written anything fun since LAST NaNoWriMo and I’m aching to just fantasize about stuff.

Is this considered self sabotage? Cause I can’t tell.

After posting last Friday, I promptly went and got severely drunk, danced until 3:30am, and then snuggled into bed with a burrito at four.

So, it wasn’t, like, a great start…

I did wear the too-small pants I need to fit in out dancing. I couldn’t sit, or bend and was afraid I’d split them the entire time, but I didn’t. I wore the pants all night.

So, yeah they still don’t fit

Life felt lonely with Myles being gone (he came home Friday THANK GOD) and the looming emptiness of being alone for year. It’s hard to know how to behave. I want to baby myself, which often means wine and comfort food. I also want to be hardened, militant to save myself from the other option.

I know life is balance, but in what quantities do you balance nurturing and productivity when both of them seem like an act against the other?

Blerg. As far as showing my weaknesses, I guess I feel like I talk a lot but never really spit out what I’m feeling.

So here is as good a place as any; I’m afraid. I’m afraid Europe will be too much like New York, an empty sort of feeling. I’ve spent two years describing myself to new people only to realize I’m just saying things. I don’t know if any of the things I actually tell people are truths about me.

I’m afraid that I won’t find community abroad, just like I didn’t find community here. I love all my friends deeply, but I don’t feel the warmth of, say, the Coven back home. Years of institutional knowledge of each other.

I’m afraid I’ll leave New York and have a sigh of relief. I love it here, and I honestly can’t tell you why. Am I going to leave just to look back and realize I hate it here?

Either way, what’s coming will come. And I have no doubts at all that it’ll blow my mind. That, I’m not afraid of. I love adventure, I love newness, and I’m pumped as fuck to be wild. Sometimes I love being me.

A lot of the things left for Volume Two are really boring and not worth writing about. So it’s gonna have to get weird. Or, at least, I’m gonna make it weird to entertain myself. For example; “Always tell the truth.”

I’ve been putting this off because I imagine it’s going to actually ruin my life… I don’t lie often, but I’m a smart ass, and a dumb ass and have learned to just keep my thoughts to myself because of those two things.

If I do this project this week, during week of event, I might be burned at the stake.

Which is a good reason to do anything.

Valerie and Her Week of Wonder

So, hell, let’s do it. Let’s get honest. Does it count if I preface things with, “Do you really want to know the truth?” Or, “I would advise you to not ask my opinion.”

Wish me luck this week and I don’t mean to hurt your feelings I just misplace my emotions and love to curse.

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The Pilgrimage

I have to start by saying this week I read The Pilgrimage by Paulo Coelho and cannot recommend it enough. My darling Michelle Alameda recommended it to me (and is actually doing the Pilgrimage route from France through Spain next year, so, that’s badass).

What it made me see and understand is that I’m constantly looking ahead. I’m hardly watching what I’m doing in front of myself, and always looking to something bigger and better.

I have a whole life I have to live between this moment and the moment I’m leaving for Europe. And if I let it go by, if I never find happiness now, then the future will become the now and I’ll constantly be searching for happiness.

Slow down, I guess is what I’ve taken away from this. Look around, fear less about where you’re going, and live as if today and this moment is always where you wanted to be, and it’ll always feel like you’ve accomplished your goals.

Anyway, this is all to say I had a great week. My friends from Oregon were in town over last weekend, and it was just nice to be with family and laugh and not have to explain myself to anyone. To get to just let the decade+ of history do the talking. Turns out all you have to do to “Be somebody” (last week’s project) is to nurture the relationships you’ve cultivated with people who genuinely love and care about you, and for whom you feel the same.

I was sick again, so the getting work done before play was actually a lesson in The Pilgrimage. I had to tell myself to slow down, listen to my body and take care of myself. I’m bad at it. I’m obviously the person who would rather have a wild time at the expense of my health than lay in bed for a whole day to get healthy.

It’s worth it to consider what it means to “Be somebody” and if that leads to happiness. It’s worth it to consider what’s important for you, so when that’s accomplished, you’re freer to share yourself with the experiences you seek.

Phew. Life.

The time in my apartment is coming to an end. I’ve put off a lot of things I kept thinking I’d have done by now (such is life) but we’re getting down to the wire here. I have two weeks to really assess what I’ve got left to do.

For starters, I have a pair of pants that I intended to take as my only jeans for my travels. I can’t fit in them… I haven’t been able to fit in them pretty much since I bought them.

They’re really good quality, and they’re the perfect style so I want to use them. I know, you’re thinking, just buy a bigger pair. Duh.

Well this week I’m going to circle back around to one of my first goals for Volume Two; Eat healthy and Exercise. I do both of those things fairly often. I just eat pizza much much more than I do those things. Like, I had pizza and Oreos for lunch on Monday AND Tuesday. So it doesn’t really matter if I work out, ya know?

This week is “Let Others See Your Weaknesses” week. I’m a pretty open book about my weaknesses. I don’t think I hide much from people because I’m constantly looking to them to help me sort out what the hell I’m even doing with these problems.

But one of my biggest weaknesses is self sabotage. I think I rarely see myself as anything other than invincible unless I’m doubting or blaming myself. I eat like garbage, even though I balance it out with lots of vegetables, yoga and gyming. I drink too much, even though I’m responsible, and aim to drink a gallon of water a day. I doubt myself, I make jokes about my progress, I never slow down etc.

I’ll be 30 on December 9th, and I really don’t want to take these weaknesses into the next decade with me. So this week, I’m addressing that my weakness is giving up on my health to satisfy immediate gratification. I’m taking my health into my own hands, taking myself seriously and building up my weak spots to be buff spots (and buff arms. I want buff arms). In the immortal words of my late Uncle, I’m gonna “give it shit, girl.”

Wish me luck this week and let’s keep each other accountable. How do you stay healthy throughout the week? What’s your workout routine? How am I going to fit into these pants in the next two weeks???

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