The past few months I'm often asked why I don't blog or write anymore. The truth is painful, but I'm ready to share, move forward and begin again.
When I write it's from experience nine times out of ten. From happy moments, funny stories and life lessons. Usually the life lessons are not this personal. This is not for pity and it is not to offend or point fingers. This is for all of you who read my rambling blogs and tell me how inspiring they are. I hope you something in this one, too.
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"When a person tells you that you hurt them, you don’t get to decide that you didn’t...... You don’t know their feelings. If they’re telling you that you hurt them, then you hurt them. Accept this and apologize." - Louis C.K.
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At the end of this life the only person you can ever truly make happy is yourself.
My entire 27 years I spent making sure I did my best in school and sports to make my parents happy and proud. And although it was hard in the beginning, I traveled the world and found my independence. My parents and friends are proud of me for that. More so, I am proud of myself!
Traveling allowed me to step outside my comfort zone of "familiar" and to find out this world has so much more to offer than my hometown of Shreveport, Louisiana. That the world has more people, lifestyles, races, foods, religions, hobbies, sports, etc. than Shreveport, Louisiana could ever offer.
Traveling also provided me with the journey to find the most comfortable version of myself. The person I love more than anyone else in this world and I don't care how selfish that makes me because I busted my ass to come to love her!
I traveled so I would know what else the world had to offer. So I would never be 50 years old asking myself, "What if?," or telling my 50-year-old self "You should've went there/done that when you had the chance."
When I got engaged, many said I was settling. Which by definition means, "to become established in some routine, especially upon marrying, after a period of independence."
Yes, I am settling, but not on a life of uncertainty. I am settling for a life closer to the family I already had and the family I intend to create. I am settling because unlike many in my hometown, I didn't get married, have children and divorce before age 25 (no judgments for those of you who did) and I know this is what I want.
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Today, I am making choices to satisfy myself. I am not asking who or what will make me happy tomorrow or 10 years from now. I am asking myself "how will you be happy right now?" And today that answer is, "I will be happy by deciding nothing."
I will be happy knowing I tried, even after being broken, I tried to do right by karma. I showed up. I faked a smile. And now I am moving forward knowing sometimes life will not always be as simple as that.
"You get bitter or you get better. It's that simple. You either take what has been dealt to you and allow it to make you a better person, or you allow it to tear you down. The choice does not belong to fate. It belongs to you."
For six months I've felt like Woody after Andy got Buzz Lightyear. I felt broken, used and tossed aside to the bottom of the toy chest. By some, not all.
Initially I was bitter. Now, I'm getting better. Letting go has always been difficult for me. Too many questions are associated with goodbyes. This goodbye has affected my relationship, my work, my soul and my outlook on life. I am not glum because I made the decision to leave another life of people behind. I am hurt because I felt abandoned by the humans I've loved most for half of my life at the time I needed them most.
As humans we are all selfish to an extent. But also, it is our responsibility to ensure being selfish is not always our action. We must sometimes sacrifice our emotions and opinions to benefit others. We must ask ourselves "How do they feel?," and "What do they want?" We cannot ignore others feelings because of our pride or self disappointment.
Sometimes we only apologize with words when our actions would speak far louder. An apology is a beginning; it needs follow-up for an ending, otherwise you never grow. The hardest part about being the strong friend is no one ever asks if you're OK. You carry on in strength, with a smile, regardless of what you've endured. You accept an apology you will never receive and you forgive for your own peace.
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"Remember the time when you were too close to the ledge and you didn’t know where to hold on to. You wanted to jump. You wanted to fall off. Because maybe this would mean letting go of control that was trying to suffocate you for the longest time. For once, you didn’t want to save yourself alone. And for once, you wanted somebody to save you from jumping off the ledge because you were exhausted of standing alone and fighting the battles you cannot win alone." - Julienne Ramos
People suck and people hurt people. That is the circle of life. People are cruel, selfish, ungrateful and petty. But it is a choice to look past those characteristics and faults. A choice I have always made because people are also loving, selfless, thankful and generous. A choice that has always bitten me in the ass. Yet, a choice I will always choose to make because I will not lose who I am.
Over the last six months, in and out of anger, depression, and thought I've realized I've hurt many in my past due to my own selfishness. I've realized I've hurt people in the last six months because I was bitter. In my bitterness I lost all care of others feelings including my fiance and my stepdaughter. I've said whatever I've wanted, whenever I've wanted out of anger and hurt. To all of you, I am truly sorry!
Be sad. Be angry. Emotions exist for a reason. Don't let someone tell or control how you feel. You are allowed to feel however you want on any given day. You are the only person who can determine your happiness, sadness, fear, etc. I write all of this out to tell you it's normal to have feelings, but your reaction to those feelings does not go unnoticed. Today I ask you to choose happiness because it's the healthiest emotion. I know that this is easier said than done so all I ask is you try happiness at all times for yourself, and yes, even for others. Be your own light when no one else is, no matter how difficult it may seem.
Rolland With The Punches
Saturday, February 24, 2018
Friday, August 4, 2017
An Open Letter to my Future Stepdaughter
Dear future stepchild of mine,
At age 21 I decided I didn't want kids. And before that, I decided I'd never date someone with children.
When I met your dad I was lost. He was charming and a hopeless romantic (my two favorite things). The first thing I told my mom about him was, "I have rules." When she asked me my rules I told her, "I don't date people with kids." To which she replied, "You're 25 and from the South. It'll be hard not to find someone who doesn't already have children."
The background of how your dad and I ended up together on this endless road called life isn't what this letter is about. Not entirely, anyway.
You and I met rather quickly. But given that your father and I fell quickly it was inevitable. Twenty-six was already going to be difficult. I'd just come back from China and I was readjusting to living in America, The South and my hometown again. When you're 20-something you'll understand this more but for now I just want you to understand why I love you and why it is all worth it.
In China, I fell in love with a girl named Wendy. You point to her photo and call her my "China girl." Well, that "China girl" taught me how to see joy in chaos. In a round about way, she taught me how to love you. In a classroom full of four year olds who don't speak your language you learn a lot about patience, love and endurance. You learn that children don't react well to shouting. You learn they respond tremendously well to love and nurturing. And lastly, you learn that if you survive a class of four-year-olds who speak a different language that you can survive battle.
You've been the biggest battle of my life. Not you specifically, but all that you bring to the table. And before I go any further, I want you to know that none of that is your fault. You are a child. You are to be young and naive and innocent for as long as this world allows it.
I am not and never will be your mom. I am simply lucky enough to be a bonus parent figure in your life. I have to bite my tongue and respect your mom and dad's decisions. I have to do my best to support them both as they raise you. None of which is easy. However, I will always love you as my own, treat you as my own and mold you as my own because if I had a child with four parents I would want the same for them.
You are beautiful, entertaining, funny, caring and wise beyond your seven years. You're also extremely talkative and long winded, which wears me out. You're just like your father in so many ways, which can also wear me out. But then there are so many ways you're like your father that make me love you more. When you're with us I have to remind myself you're only seven. Which means you do still need someone to fix your meals, wash your clothes, brush your hair, tell you to brush your teeth, shower, etc. Patience has always been my weakest trait. After teaching I thought I'd mastered patience enough to handle anything but I was wrong. You're still teaching me even when you're not around.
With you comes great responsibility, pressure and sacrifices. You're not mine, but, like my students in China, you are mine when you're in my care. The responsibility falls on me and it's a lot to take in as a non-parent. But you are and always will be worth it. Your innocence shines through all of the bad times. As adults, we see things in a different light. Adults tend to see the worst possible scenario or outcome, whereas kids see the tiniest glimmer of hope. You're able to see it because you haven't been exposed to the ways of the world yet. My greatest wish for you is that you never know how cruel the world can be even when it surrounds you.
I know I will make comments out of haste, anger or stress. I know they will hurt your ears and steer your thinking, and I am apologizing now for all of those future moments. Our job as the adults are to be positive, guiding, understanding, encouraging, honest, polite and all the other things that make people loved. It is our job to protect you from the demons we fight ourselves. Unfortunately we are only human. We will yell. We will pout. We will give silent treatments. We will say mean things about each other. We will do mean things to each other. We will forget our manners. We will not always be friends. Please know none of those will ever be your fault!
We will also tell you what to do. We will correct you when you're wrong. We will encourage your creativity. We will ask questions. We will answer questions. A lot of questions. We will tell you "no." We will train, educate and inspire you. We will take the best parts of ourselves and bestow those things to you. We will mess up, but we promise to always try again.
Your dad chose me knowing I would have a part in influencing your life. Your dad wants me to play a part in how you think, how you behave and how you see the world (hopefully as open-minded as me). Like me, your biggest flaw will be your giant, naive heart, but I promise to always be there when that heart is disappointed, hurt, sad or angry.
Your dad and I promise to teach you how to be the best person you can be. You will know that the world is not fair. You will understand that you only get what you put into this world. You will know the worth and pride that come with hard work. We will spoil you and treat you, but you will also know things must be earned and worked for. You will know that you are lucky to have so many people who love you. You will know that although life can be hard there is always someone somewhere having a harder day.
When your dad and I got engaged, it meant I got engaged to you, too. I got to choose whether or not to be your bonus mom, and it is a choice I'd make a hundred times over and am honored to make. Thank you for loving me, little buttercup. I hope for the brightest of futures for us. I vow to continue to inspire, enlighten and educate you in the ways of the world. I vow to always be honest to you. I vow to be the best half to your dad so he can be the best whole for you.
Your dad and I promise to teach you how to be the best person you can be. You will know that the world is not fair. You will understand that you only get what you put into this world. You will know the worth and pride that come with hard work. We will spoil you and treat you, but you will also know things must be earned and worked for. You will know that you are lucky to have so many people who love you. You will know that although life can be hard there is always someone somewhere having a harder day.
When your dad and I got engaged, it meant I got engaged to you, too. I got to choose whether or not to be your bonus mom, and it is a choice I'd make a hundred times over and am honored to make. Thank you for loving me, little buttercup. I hope for the brightest of futures for us. I vow to continue to inspire, enlighten and educate you in the ways of the world. I vow to always be honest to you. I vow to be the best half to your dad so he can be the best whole for you.
I love you!
Tuesday, June 20, 2017
The Edge of Wanderlust
The last several months were hard. Emotionally I was all over the place in true bipolar fashion. I took numerous 360 degree spins.
I'm known for being the wild card be it in my friend, family or work circle. I will often say exactly what's on my mind and censor myself for no one.
As a temporarily retired drifter, I often feel like I live a double life in many ways. Amie abroad is spontaneous, wild, carefree and so on. Amie back home is all of those things, but with responsibilities, commitments and a reputation.
Back home people expect my quirky, odd, eccentric ways. However, they also expect me to calm down, keep a steady job, get married and start a family. No matter where we come from, wherever our hometown, there are expectations. In hometowns people expect us to do certain things, have certain things and communicate with certain people. This is hard, for anyone who has ever spent significant amounts of time away from their hometown, you know the struggle is real.
One of my favorite things about living abroad was I was exactly who I wanted to be in every moment of every day. The odds of ever seeing 99% of the humans you met abroad again were slim.
It is hard to know I will always be Amie, but it is harder being Amie and knowing I can't always be "Wander Woman."
When I was traveling, people were fascinated with every aspect of my life: what I ate, wore, saw, smelt. It never dawned on me how extraordinary it all was. I was just blowing my savings, making memories, avoiding commitment and having a damn good time. It wasn't abnormal to me.
Since I came home I've gradually felt I've become less special, less unique, less adventurous. I know this isn't accurate, but it's affected me in ways I never expected. I felt I had nothing to write about, nothing to take photos of and nothing to tell stories about except, "that one time when I was ...."
As humans, we want it all. I want to be in a different city every day eating ethnic foods and meeting strangers. I also want to marry the man of my dreams, buy a house, start a family, create a home and have my own children to inspire and give wings to.
It is difficult and beyond any words to explain the value of the self I found while traveling, exploring and disregarding all responsibility and consequences. It is hard to have lived and loved in so many places. It is hard to be homesick in your hometown. It is hard to feel out of place and lost. And it is hard to feel like you are losing the person you worked so hard to become.
In January, when one year hit, I became aggressively homesick for China. Jasmine got married and is expecting a baby. All of which I'll miss. I also missed so much more with other friends that isn't my business to share. I wanted to go back, yet I wanted to stay here. And so began the process of racking my brain and getting stuck in my head wondering WTF was going on? Was I stuck? Was I happy? Was I alone? Was I misunderstood? Was I ever going to leave the country again? Was I ok with this?
I let life get in the way. Worse, I was slowly slipping back to the girl I left behind here five years ago. I let people control my behavior, I let my job stress me out, and I let people's negativity get under my skin.
I pushed and neglected someone who loves me in the way I've only ever dreamt about because I was afraid. I fought the inevitable because I was scared. I cried and yelled until I finally took a breath and stepped back.
So here's my decision. Of course I'm staying. I'm staying home for as long as myself deems it necessary. For as long as myself prospers. For as long as myself loves. For as long as myself can fight the urge to run and fly. I've clipped my wings and am no longer a bird in search of winter harborage. I had my happy place all along, but I needed to leave it for a bit to grasp my own understanding of home and the knowledge that home is a feeling, not a place. Home can be tangible or intangible. Home can and will be wherever I am.
I will forever be homesick for China and the aggressiveness that comes with that will dwindle over time. I will lose complete touch with some of the most impactful people I've ever known. Life will go on, though.
This is what I've clanged to the last few months. You'll always miss some one you met. A place you've been. An act you did. A thing you saw. A food you ate. A holiday celebrated. A wonder you witnessed. But above all of these, you'll miss who you were most. Travel changes us all, but the one common factor is we're never who we always are during or after having seen the stars in a place not our origin.
Travel is a release; physically, mentally, emotionally and for some, even spiritually. You see, hear and do things in a different light. We embrace in things out of our comfort zones. We talk to more strangers than we'd be comfortable speaking to in our own town of residence. We look at the ordinary of others in an extraordinary way. We can realize the luxuries of others and also the luxuries of our own afford.
By the time I'd reached China, I'd given up on finding the purpose within my journey. I'd simply continued traveling because I could. Also, I didn't realize at the time that an adventure is only complete once you've made the journey, not reached the destination. The journey, in fact, is the destination.
We all know my decision to stay was well made when I returned home last December, however, I've only recently come to terms with it. I will never wonder what I missed out on. I will never wonder what I could've done instead. Ever. I did everything I wanted to do and more for years.
More than a year ago, when I left China I wanted to write this blog but it never quite fell into place until now. Now that I know I am exactly where I am supposed to be and am building a life with exactly who I'm supposed to build a life with.
My adventures will be different from now one. They won't necessarily include backpacks, water bottles and picture maps. Adventure is also a feeling. A feeling I plan to hang onto a little tighter and not let life take over.
Life will always challenge and push us. That is the sole purpose of existence. We will struggle more than once to keep intact who we are and I think that's ok as long as we always find our way back.
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Before the Adventure Comes the Unpacking
When I set out traveling I never intended any permanent residencies.
Then I ended up teaching English in Beijing for 18 months. The expat community is small in a foreign country. Everyone knows someone that knows someone that knows someone.
Everyone you've met in the past days of your travels has most likely played a significant role in where you are today.
Expats are always coming and going. Some are finishing their contracts or obligations, others were just passing through.
The passer throughs are the people you follow on social media sites to watch where they adventure to next. You keep a small acknowledgement of each other's existences for future travel purposes in their home country/state. However, when you befriend a local, you're playing a whole different ball game.
You're submerging yourself in the culture and lifestyle of that local, too. When I adapted to Beijing as my home, I was adapting to my best friend's life. She knew all the places to shop for foreign-sized shoes and clothing. She knows all the best expat bars. She knows the tricks of street vendors. She knew everything I needed to know in order to make Beijing home.
Now, my two best friends lives 7,370 miles away from me. When you leave your foreign hometown to return to wherever you're from, your life becomes a sequence of photographs, delayed text responses and early morning and late night video calls.
Your communication becomes catching up weekly and cramming the week's events into one hour or less.
If you don't know me and my lifelong friends I probably sound like a jerk for not acknowledging that they still exist as a major part of my life. They do. And they understand what I'm saying here. They never tell me to stop talking about my friends abroad or tire of listening to my stories. (At least they never say so). You stuck by me when I had no idea who I was, where I was going, what I was doing or what I wanted in life. But so did my friends there and I miss them just like I missed you from the other side.
It's like this...
"You get a strange feeling when you leave a place, like you'll not only miss the people you love, but you miss the person you are at that time and place because you'll never be that way again." --- Azar Nafasi
And that's exactly how I sum up returning. Travelers adapt. It's all they know to do. We keep a part of who we were when we were away, but being that person in another environment isn't always easy or acceptable.
A year or so ago when I was living my "oh so adventurous life" in China I wrote one of my favorite blogs, "Nobody Hangs Hard Times on the Wall." It's about the obvious-to- me-yet-clearly-ambiguous-to-the-rest-of-the-world life struggles of living abroad.
Just because I live in a world away from all of your bullshit problems doesn't mean I don't have my own. It's not about who does or doesn't have problems, though; it's about how we view and handle our problems.
You can follow the link to that old blog if it'll help you better understand the rest of this one, but it isn't necessary.
After five months of living back in my hometown I've gotten most of my breakdowns and freak outs out of the way. I've cried about missing my friends, students and life back in China. I've freaked out at the grocery store in choosing basic necessities. I've had multiple panic attacks in the driver's and passengers seat of cars. I've been ridiculed for not knowing or using popular social media apps. I've patiently watched and/or listened to people witness my reactions in said situations and wonder wtf was wrong with me. I just hope they one day find the strength to put themselves in an unfamiliar setting where they don't know a damn thing and come out slightly shook up, yet stronger for doing so.
I'm reading "Looking For Alaska," by John Green and he wrote, "Well, before the adventure comes the unpacking."
I instantly put the book down to finish this blog. I've been trying to find a way to put into words what I'm experiencing. As it turns out, I haven't had a lot of reverse culture shock but a lot of unpacking to do.
When I got to China I had to adjust to everything because nothing was the same. I did so as quickly as possible and much faster than I ever anticipated. I learned quickly what I could live without when I couldn't say it in Mandarin or use some funky hand gestures to make my desires understood. Also, I gradually noticed all the past moments I once saw as catastrophic were simple on even the worst day. And I can go into the details of being lost, lonely or a number of other emotions and scenarios in grave detail but it really doesn't make sense until you've experienced it yourself. And I'm not talking about going to Europe for a few weeks or taking a Jamaican cruise on an American cruise line for 10 days. Not to dampen your adventures or anything, but it's not even close to the same.
So I unpacked everything in China. All the past I'd been finding a way to let go of, but not just that... I unpacked all of my dreams and ambitions. Once the negativity was out of sight I was able to see what I wanted in the years to come. I had it all lined out, too. Then I decided to return to my hometown. And although the decision involved temporary residency in my home town I knew the risk of packing up and coming back because I'd have to risk unpacking all over again.
And as usual, in five months time, every plan I made has been altered, postponed or tossed out completely. I've finally slowed down and decided to unpack and make home my home again and just roll with the punches ;) Because I've fallen in love with the South and all of it's flaws again. Because I've fallen in love with the hot sun and fresh air that exist even on a rainy day. Because I've found comfort in being near my family. Because I've fallen in love. And I think it's ok to want both worlds sometimes because I think adventures are whatever we make them to be. And because life is the adventure.
Then I ended up teaching English in Beijing for 18 months. The expat community is small in a foreign country. Everyone knows someone that knows someone that knows someone.
Everyone you've met in the past days of your travels has most likely played a significant role in where you are today.
Expats are always coming and going. Some are finishing their contracts or obligations, others were just passing through.
The passer throughs are the people you follow on social media sites to watch where they adventure to next. You keep a small acknowledgement of each other's existences for future travel purposes in their home country/state. However, when you befriend a local, you're playing a whole different ball game.
You're submerging yourself in the culture and lifestyle of that local, too. When I adapted to Beijing as my home, I was adapting to my best friend's life. She knew all the places to shop for foreign-sized shoes and clothing. She knows all the best expat bars. She knows the tricks of street vendors. She knew everything I needed to know in order to make Beijing home.
Now, my two best friends lives 7,370 miles away from me. When you leave your foreign hometown to return to wherever you're from, your life becomes a sequence of photographs, delayed text responses and early morning and late night video calls.
Your communication becomes catching up weekly and cramming the week's events into one hour or less.
If you don't know me and my lifelong friends I probably sound like a jerk for not acknowledging that they still exist as a major part of my life. They do. And they understand what I'm saying here. They never tell me to stop talking about my friends abroad or tire of listening to my stories. (At least they never say so). You stuck by me when I had no idea who I was, where I was going, what I was doing or what I wanted in life. But so did my friends there and I miss them just like I missed you from the other side.
"You get a strange feeling when you leave a place, like you'll not only miss the people you love, but you miss the person you are at that time and place because you'll never be that way again." --- Azar Nafasi
And that's exactly how I sum up returning. Travelers adapt. It's all they know to do. We keep a part of who we were when we were away, but being that person in another environment isn't always easy or acceptable.
A year or so ago when I was living my "oh so adventurous life" in China I wrote one of my favorite blogs, "Nobody Hangs Hard Times on the Wall." It's about the obvious-to- me-yet-clearly-ambiguous-to-the-rest-of-the-world life struggles of living abroad.
Just because I live in a world away from all of your bullshit problems doesn't mean I don't have my own. It's not about who does or doesn't have problems, though; it's about how we view and handle our problems.
You can follow the link to that old blog if it'll help you better understand the rest of this one, but it isn't necessary.
After five months of living back in my hometown I've gotten most of my breakdowns and freak outs out of the way. I've cried about missing my friends, students and life back in China. I've freaked out at the grocery store in choosing basic necessities. I've had multiple panic attacks in the driver's and passengers seat of cars. I've been ridiculed for not knowing or using popular social media apps. I've patiently watched and/or listened to people witness my reactions in said situations and wonder wtf was wrong with me. I just hope they one day find the strength to put themselves in an unfamiliar setting where they don't know a damn thing and come out slightly shook up, yet stronger for doing so.
I'm reading "Looking For Alaska," by John Green and he wrote, "Well, before the adventure comes the unpacking."
I instantly put the book down to finish this blog. I've been trying to find a way to put into words what I'm experiencing. As it turns out, I haven't had a lot of reverse culture shock but a lot of unpacking to do.
When I got to China I had to adjust to everything because nothing was the same. I did so as quickly as possible and much faster than I ever anticipated. I learned quickly what I could live without when I couldn't say it in Mandarin or use some funky hand gestures to make my desires understood. Also, I gradually noticed all the past moments I once saw as catastrophic were simple on even the worst day. And I can go into the details of being lost, lonely or a number of other emotions and scenarios in grave detail but it really doesn't make sense until you've experienced it yourself. And I'm not talking about going to Europe for a few weeks or taking a Jamaican cruise on an American cruise line for 10 days. Not to dampen your adventures or anything, but it's not even close to the same.
So I unpacked everything in China. All the past I'd been finding a way to let go of, but not just that... I unpacked all of my dreams and ambitions. Once the negativity was out of sight I was able to see what I wanted in the years to come. I had it all lined out, too. Then I decided to return to my hometown. And although the decision involved temporary residency in my home town I knew the risk of packing up and coming back because I'd have to risk unpacking all over again.
And as usual, in five months time, every plan I made has been altered, postponed or tossed out completely. I've finally slowed down and decided to unpack and make home my home again and just roll with the punches ;) Because I've fallen in love with the South and all of it's flaws again. Because I've fallen in love with the hot sun and fresh air that exist even on a rainy day. Because I've found comfort in being near my family. Because I've fallen in love. And I think it's ok to want both worlds sometimes because I think adventures are whatever we make them to be. And because life is the adventure.
Sunday, March 13, 2016
"How high's the water Papa?"
"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.
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.
Thursday, March 10, 2016
"What's Next?"
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. :)
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. :)
Tuesday, March 1, 2016
To my boyfriend about why I kept things from my ex
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."
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