"Five feet high and rising."
Torrential rain fell in Northwest Louisiana for five consecutive days. For two days it was non-stop and the others it came and went.
As a result numerous people have suffered tremendous losses. If you're a resident of the area, you or someone you know has been effected by this week's weather disaster. Schools were closed and roads flooded out. People attempted to salvage their belongings using jon boats and helping hands when possible. However, many are now seeking shelter in hotels or with family and friends. Their homes are destroyed, whether there's a foot of standing water or their roofs are submerged, the damage is done.
I'm known for making the best of any situation I'm presented with. I exude happiness sometimes. Even now, in a house nearly encased by Caddo Lake, I'm remaining optimistic.
Yesterday morning my dad called for my brother and I to come help him take stuff out of the sheds because the water from the lake had risen to them. On a normal day, our house sits 80-100 yards from the lake. I think, "wow that's pretty high." Even with the heavy rains in May the shoreline was never more than 20 yards up I'd guess.
When we pull down the driveway I realize my dad meant, "The rain has risen to three and a half feet of standing water in the shed."
We wade through the freezing lake water and start filling ice chests with tools, carrying extension cords and weedeaters above our heads to 'shore.'
The water is to my waist. I'm 5'9''.
I'm secretly scared shitless a water moccasin is gonna come swimming past me at any moment and I jump every time something brushes my leg in the dirty water I'm encompassed by. However, I said to dad, "this is funny." He responds with the obvious, "no, it's not." And I hit him with, "dad we're waste deep in water in our shed. This will definitely be funny once the lake resides and we've put all this shit back."
After we clear what we can, we then need to remove the John Deere lawnmower from the shed and make it the 20 yards to 'shore.' So let me tell y'all, not only does nothing run like a Deere, but nothing floats like those puppies, either. I'm kidding that mower was heavy as hell, but we made it, and we were proactive cause had we waited it would've ruined... The water rose another foot and a half over night.
We were lucky. The lake is supposed to crest at midnight tonight and shouldn't rise further. So although Caddo Lake is directly off the back porch steps currently, it is not in our home. No ruined floors, walls, etc. Exactly a half mile down the road is an evacuated street with homes submerged in water. And all throughout the region are more.
Here's my deal. It's a headache, stressful and heartbreaking no doubt. But, at the end of the day, it's stuff. However valuable or precious it may be to you, it's replaceable in some form. I don't know the statistics, but as far as lives go, it seems few were lost.
Secondly, it sounds crazy but I love when natural disasters happen because for a few hours, days or weeks, the people affected by it become aware, attentive and altruistic. Not to say some people aren't always, but you know where I'm coming from.
Our neighbor, Mr. Dennis, is lacking exactly five inches of water before his home is flooded and he spent the day sawing and hauling limbs with us off a power line that'd fallen on another neighbor's power line.
So if you lose everything in a situation like this week's disaster, always remember there truly is a worse possible scenario. So pray, send good vibes, hope, wish or whatever it is you do for the residents of Louisiana because although the rain has calmed, the storm may only be beginning.
Left: March 12 @ 1p.m.
Right: March 13 @ 3p.m.
I had a plan for my life once. Most 20-somethings do. Maybe your plan is in a constant state of alteration. Or possibly you gave up on plans completely. I like to pretend I still plan out my life and think it all through. Although at this stage of the game I'm content with saying, "that's a load of shit."
I've become incredibly spontaneous, inconsistent and maybe even a bit flaky when it comes to the future of my life and surprisingly I'm ok with this.
As a travelled person, at least in the eyes of the people from my hometown, on top of being a 25-year old college grad with no insurance or career this is the most despised question heard almost weekly: "What's next?"
What I say is some line about working and saving until my next runaway moment. Which, to be fair, is about 85% accurate. However, what I want to say is, "I don't have a clue because my suitcase is still fully packed, just strewn across the spare room of my parent's home."
I speculate there are roughly three types of people who ask this question.
The first is your family and friends who are genuinely interested about your game plan, when you're leaving again or when you'll need to borrow a couple hundred bucks or something.
The second would be the people who don't really know you but stalk you out on social media and kind of dabble in keeping up with your personal life through photos and other posts.
Third would the people asking to ensure they're not the only person who doesn't have their shit together. (You're my favorites.)
Here's where I'm at currently: I just moved back into the country and never remember how important IDs are. I moved into the spare room of my brother and his girlfriend's place. I drive my mom's car. I'm waiting tables and other odd jobs so I don't drown in debt.
What am I doing next?
I don't have a fucking clue!
When I decided to leave China early I convinced myself I had to have some elaborate plan so I could tell people something other than, "I was homesick."
But why? It's my life...
I read an article on ThoughtCatalog.com about a month before I left China. The author was talking about what it's like to hang up your backpack and passport and stay in one spot. (Read it here). I enjoyed the read, but I never thought it'd pertain to me... until now.
The rain pelts the tin roof for the twentieth consecutive hour. A sound I've missed for far too long. A sound few people appreciate in this world anymore.
I'm a firm believer in "the little things in life." Joy can come from the smallest word, moment or feeling.
Here is a short, quick list of the little things I missed while living in China.
1. Rain on a tin roof (obviously).
2. The smell of fresh cut grass.
3. The dingy feel of my dog's fur after he's dried from a dip in the lake or pond.
4. My dad's scent when he comes home from a day of work.
5. Driving on back roads past pastures and fields.
6. Coffee at Granny's.
7. Southern Maid Donuts (yes, it's that special).
These are all the things that have never changed and been a constant favorite in my 'adult' life, even if they are a bit strange in your mind. Things that are at the top of my "I can't wait" list whenever I'm returning home from a journey. And some of these little things won't last forever which is why I am where I am with this blog.
I was accepted into Webster University for my master's, but maybe I don't want to take out the double-digit thousands of dollars it would take to complete said degree yet. Also, I'm happy being home and getting my boots dirty for awhile.
I've already postponed grad school a semester. And my life in China seems like another lifetime ago. I communicate with my close friends regularly but it's almost surreal. It doesn't seem like it's been three months, but two years. I keep waiting to board my return flight, yet I don't want to. That probably seems confusing unless you've been there I suppose.
I traveled to figure it out. Find myself. Soul search. Eat, pray love and all that jazz. Although I'm not 100% there, I reached the most important peak I needed to reach: confidence.
I thought moving to another continent on my own and surviving 18 months was the hardest thing I'd ever endure. I'm now realizing the hardest part is right now and finding the strength to remain in the place I was originally running from and being content with that decision. The true challenge is returning, starting from scratch and having the strength to stay.
As a runner leaving comes easy. Money or not you leap. People think you're brave, in reality you're probably frightened or maybe just a bit stupid. I believe I'm a mix of both.
When you ask a 20-something, or even 30-something-year-old human what they're doing with their life, what their dreams are or what their goal for the year is you're just making them feel like a waste. More importantly, you're forcing them to grow up. Everyone matures and develops in the world at different paces. Some people hit the ground runnin' at 19. Others make it around 50 or so.
No way in hell I'm done traveling. But I am done living abroad or living more than a few hundred miles from my family. I have a whole lot more on my bucket list, but not all of those things are overseas or require a plane ticket to reach. Right now I'm happy. I'm home and I'm not trying to run away anymore so I'm making the best of what I've got. So, give us a break. People worry about what they're doing with their lives because we ask them so much. I'm just waiting it out until something strikes my fancy. That's what's next if I'm being 100% honest with you. :)
A few weeks ago my boyfriend was over. On the bed rests a teddy bear. At first he laughed, then commented that I even have a bear at 25 years old. I further explained an ex had given it to me.
"Babe, when your new boyfriend comes over you should hide your old boyfriend's teddy bear," he said.
I used to. I used to throw it under the bed or in a closet even if it was just a friend coming over. The days of shamefully hiding the teddy bear seems like ages ago now, though.
This is my logic and call me crazy, but I've lugged this damn teddy bear around the globe for three years so I'm not just going to chunk him to the curb now.
Two years ago I set out soul searching, if you will. Originally I lugged the bear along because I was still in love with the ex who'd given it to me. However, by the end of my two-year sabbatical from my hometown, the teddy bear had become something of a pet. Also, what the hell do you do with an old stuffed bear? I considered chunking it in the nearest donation bin 100 times but I just couldn't do it. And here's why...
I want to remember who I was when I was positive and a good girlfriend that deserved to be given a silly teddy bear in my past relationship because I want those characteristics to carry over into my future relationship. At the same time I want to remember the negative aspects and lessons learned from my past relationship. Of all things in my past, that damn teddy bear reminds me of who I want to be and who I never want to be again. But mostly, it clarifies the kind of guy I want in my life and the kind I don't want in my life. The bear is simply a symbol of all I've left behind, overcome, bared, lost and gained.
It's impossible to be angry at a stuffed bear regardless who gave it to you and who it reminds you of. It's impossible to hate a necklace, despite the fact you've ripped it off and replaced the chain at least a dozen times. If I continue having Taylor Swift bonfires with all the things I ever received from an ex I'm just exerting anger and negativity.
One of my favorite quotes of all time is from "Pretty in Pink," when Molly Ringwald's character Andie says she's going to that dance anyway because "I just wanna let them know they didn't break me."
I've always believed in that. I want to be stronger from my pain, heartbreak and all that other emotional bullshit. So, if I can't look at a $20 teddy bear and smile at how I've grown then I don't deserve to be happy.
This brief letter isn't just for my boyfriend but for me, other new boyfriends of the world and other girls with trinkets from their past. Maybe you can relate. Maybe you can't. I don't know but it's at least one semi decent logic to put behind hanging onto "ex things."
