Winter Wisdom

Summer child,

Born under Leo stars

In the north,

Moved down south

Then further south

Only to return,

Confused. 

A sideways wood chipper?

No, a snowblower.

Kids

If you keep your mind open you will capture some wisdom from every experience you have, it just may not always be clear until time helps the picture develop. For the past year or so I’ve been watching my niece on and off, lately I’ve been watching her full time, Monday through Friday. In this case, it already seems clear to me what I should take away from this experience: My heart is bigger than I thought it was and I need to find somewhere meaningful to direct all this love.

I get emotional thinking about my niece. My heart breaks when I see her have anything but perfect interactions with other kids. I’m terrified to let her go to daycare instead of staying with me all day. I want to shelter her from the bad parts of the world and teach her everything I know. I want to give her outlets for creative expression and I don’t want anyone to push her to be anything she doesn’t want to be. I want to teach her proper manners and I want her to learn how to communicate her feelings. I want her to eat better and I want to discipline her gently and with patience. I want to put her hair up in the perfect pony tail and I want to put her hearing aid in without the battery on and not turn it on until it’s in exactly right so she doesn’t ever hear any feedback.

When I want to cry because another little girl doesn’t want to hold her hand, somewhere in the back of my mind I know that this over-protective energy is a little misdirected. I love my niece but until I started caring for her every day, I didn’t realize just how much I need kids of my own. I won’t say want because I don’t feel that way. It’s not a choice, I don’t really want the responsibility of kids and I don’t want the pressure of finding the right person to have them with. Caring for someone else is instinctual for me. When I don’t have someone to direct my love toward I get anxious, angry, and sad.

Having kids scares me, terrifies me. Wanting to have kids makes me feel even lonelier as a single person. Looking forward to having kids makes me invested in something that may not ever happen for me. But, I think it’s something I need. I think it’s something the world needs: for people who care to raise little humans who care too.

I had a dream right before Christmas that was so real that I woke up feeling all the emotions of the dream. I woke up at 4 am full of adrenaline and couldn’t fall back asleep so I texted everything in the dream to my friend and then saved screenshots of the conversation so I wouldn’t forget. The dream started out as all dreams do, a little weird and nonsensical and involving random people I used to know. Then my cousin shows up to tell me I’m late for Christmas Eve dinner. When we walked into the house I saw my great aunt and my grandmother who passed away right before Thanksgiving.

I walked in and kissed my great aunt first because I was confused about how my grandmother was there or if I was imagining it. I knew in the dream that she was not alive and it didn’t make sense for her to be there but I went to my grandmother next. As I leaned down to kiss her on the cheek she whispered into my ear, “Your daughter is beautiful.” I was so scared and confused I started hyperventilating in the dream and ran away. My mom came to me and asked, “Did she touch you?” So I told her yes and what she said. I woke up breathing heavy and scared and had to turn on the lights.

Of course I know dreams aren’t necessarily messages from God, visions of the future, or anything like that. I ate a lot of spicy food right before bed and maybe that’s why I had such a vivid dream. But I had also recently asked for a sign from my grandma. What I got wasn’t exactly what I asked for but it woke me up in more ways than one. Regardless of what caused the dream, it made the possibility of me having a family feel realer to me than it had before.

Eating Animals

When I was little I wanted to be a vegetarian when I grew up. Actually, I wanted to be a famous singer most of all, but when I hit puberty and realized I was completely tone deaf, that dream slowly died. I evolved my dream into wanting to be a famous actress, and as it turns out I’m terrible at that too. But somewhere in the midst of all those big ideas I just wanted to be a vegetarian.

Sometime around 3rd grade I told my mom I wanted to stop eating animals. I was serious. I didn’t want to eat them because I loved them and realized how wrong that was. She told me I couldn’t. She said it was important for little kids to eat meat to grow up big and strong. She was the one who fed me every day and I understood her logic so I complied. 

Occasionally throughout my life I would feel pangs of guilt for eating the same animals I loved to pet at the petting zoo or watch on TV. I refused to eat lamb chops the few times my mom made them because my favorite show was Lamb Chop’s Play-Along with Shari Lewis. Even though he was a puppet and not a real lamb, he was also my favorite stuffed toy, and he represented a real little fuzzy animal. I’m also sure one of my older sisters would have informed me that lambs are not only cute and fuzzy but they are also babies.

My parents were not obsessively strict but stern enough that I felt very obligated to follow their rules and live my life in a way that wouldn’t disappoint them, especially my mom. So, it took me a while to start living my life on my own terms after I moved away to college. In the 4 years I was in college I dyed my hair for the first time, got my first tattoos, got my first job, learned how to be my own person, and slowly gave up regularly eating meat. 

The funny thing is, after all those years of feeling bad for eating Lamb Chop or the cute fuzzy cow I saw grazing by the road and named Pearl, the reason I find myself committed to minimizing my animal consumption is the damage it causes to the environment. 

I’m not the greatest vegetarian who ever lived. I’m not strict on myself. I try to eat vegan most of the time but I also eat cheese and eggs sometimes, eat a huge seafood dinner every Christmas Eve, occasionally will try meat products when I’m traveling in new places, and on rare occasions will eat a fish if I know it was sustainably caught by someone I know. I’m sure a lot of people will say I should be stricter, and to an extent I agree. However, this is my life-long commitment. To use a cliche: it’s a marathon not a sprint. 

I’ve met countless people who tell me about the time they were vegetarian for 6 months then quit and people who went straight into full veganism and quit a year or two later or people who try to give up more than just animal products and get burnt out. My goal is to minimize the impact my life has on the environment and to minimize the suffering I cause to other living beings. I’m not going to eliminate those issues entirely but I can wake up every day and make choices with those goals in mind.

Valentine's Day 2019

Today I am sad but I’m trying not to be. I don’t remember ever feeling so empty on Valentine’s day. There’s so much going on in my head, my stomach is upset, my heart aches, and somewhere in my chest I feel something missing.

This was Karl and I’s anniversary when we were together. It wasn’t even a real anniversary. I made it up, because he never really asked me out but I wanted to make it official. I just made it up. Every year we made lasagna or we went on a trip.

I always loved Valentine’s day. The hearts, the pink, the chocolate, the cards, the flowers, all things I love. Now it feels like something’s missing and I have no way to fill the void. I have all this love and no one special to share it with, but I tried. I bought some of my friends cards with gift cards. I bought my niece special Valentine’s crafts and treats and I took her to Chik-fil-a for lunch. I even bought myself a strawberry milkshake.

I’m just sad today, and I guess that’s okay.

I called my grandparents to tell them happy Valentine’s day and I asked what they were doing. I thought maybe my niece and I could go over but they already had plans to go to lunch together. I think that’s very sweet. I didn’t realize they still celebrated Valentine’s day after 60+ years of marriage.

I’m lonely but I’m starting to accept it and even embrace it. I started thinking about all the trips I want to take this year and while I’m not 100% thrilled to travel alone, I am also glad I will be single and open to meeting new people out in the world.

Book'd Up

The thrift stores on Long Island are absolutely stellar. I got 3 books today: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, A Casual Vacancy, and the Gasparilla Cookbook. My theory is that thrifting never really caught on here so the thrift stores are all teeming with unfound, quirky little treasures. In Florida all of the thrift stores, especially in Orlando, have always already been picked over by cool kids, poor yet trendy college students, and themed costume party-goers.

My favorite here is called Island Thrift and they have not one, but 4 colored tags on sale each week and the discount is 50%. In other words: every item in the store is color coded, and if you pick up something with a tag the right color, it’s half off. Much of the store is a little overpriced for a thrift store (all of my books were labeled $4.99) but most of the store is 50% off (I only paid $2.50 each for my books).

So, here’s a fun story: I’ve been missing the first Harry Potter book for years. I gave away my original set of the first 4 in high school to a girl who wanted to read them but didn’t have her own copies. I didn’t really like the way they were bound, they were part of a set and were bound in plain black instead of the classic bicolored binding/cover with the diamond pattern. I also gave them away because my high school boyfriend promised he would replace them with the real copies. Funny thing about high-school-boyfriend-promises: they don’t often count for much. He replaced 3 out of 4 of them and now about a decade later I finally have every book.

I probably started reading Harry Potter when I was 8, I’m not sure if I even totally comprehended the entire thing but I loved reading back then and I kept up with it. Then as the new ones were released I was old enough to fully appreciate the story. I would go to the midnight releases and then spend the whole next day devouring the new book. As a teenager, I got into the habit of reading the whole series every summer while floating in my parents’ pool. Florida summers are like that, so hot you can’t move much, so you just melt into a comfortable spot on the porch and embrace the heat.

I couldn’t not buy the Gasparilla Cookbook when I saw it. I love Florida in such a special way. It’s home to me now. I thought the cookbook needed to be in a Floridian’s hands. Even though I’ve only been to Gasparilla, I love it just for being a funny part of Florida culture. If you don’t know, Gasparilla is a pirate festival that happens every year in Tampa. Everyone dresses up as pirates, goes down near the water, gets drunk, and watches a pirate ship sail by followed by a parade of other party boats.

I’ve been living on Long Island 5 months now. I thought I’d leave in January but I got into a groove here and I’ve grown to like it. I’m also anxious about going back to Florida. I think about that Avett Brothers song about running “to” something and not ‘from” when I think about moving back. It seems like there’s nothing I should run “to” there, it would be more like running “back.” And it all seems tied up in these feelings for a person who taught me how to love Florida, not just live there. When I find out what my next adventure is, I’ll leave here. For now, I’m working and writing and spending time with extended family. And tonight, maybe curling up with A Casual Vacancy, a glass of wine, and my dog on this very cold and rainy Sunday in December.

Side note: I really love the handwritten notes in books when people give them as a gift or otherwise. Here are pictures of the ones in these books (click to view).

"Gift from Martha 1993"

"started 12/3/2012 / done 1/6/13"

26

25 has been a crazy year. I really thought I’d be writing something much different about it but nothing about this year has been what I expected it to be. 

Last year I planned to kick off 25 with a birthday hike. I wanted to wake up on the morning of my birthday in a beautiful place and come home triumphant with a picture of myself on the edge of the world. On the drive up my best friend was having painful cramps and we soon realized she was losing her first pregnancy only a few weeks in. We still went hiking, maybe to prove a point, maybe to salvage the trip, maybe to make her feel better, maybe to make me feel better, but we did it. Then we came home early.

So, on my 25th birthday, I was at home, confused about how to feel. 

I had been so scared leading up to that birthday. I thought 25 was the beginning of the end, the first year of being officially old, the end of my youth. There’s no going back. Time keeps moving as much as I wish it would slow down. 

Earlier that year I’d gone through an odd break up that was supposed to be mutual, but as it turns out, my heart doesn’t think so. I thought things were difficult but we’d get through it and move on slowly, then he suddenly ran away to Asia for 4 months.

Between being sad and single and scared out of my mind about turning 25 I fell hard into my quarter-life crisis. I started to plan how I was going to change my life, travel more, and work less. I made plans to go to Asia with a friend in November, and just had to work up the guts to actually quit my job and go.

Right after my birthday trip, I returned to work to be scolded for a long list of things I’d apparently been doing wrong for the past 2 years. I was infuriated for a lot of reasons but mostly because I had been feeling so nervous and guilty knowing that I was quitting soon to start traveling. Then I was suddenly in a position where I wanted to quit right that second. I sucked it up and kept working another month until I got the opportunity to leave. 

At the end of September my sister was going to Utah for a month and invited me to drive across the country with her and stay the month while watching my niece for her. I saw more of the country in that trip than I ever had before. We drove through 7 states, stopped in 3 national parks, and even spent a night in Las Vegas.

My sister was in medical school at the time, and we started making plans. I would watch the baby when I could so she wouldn’t always been in daycare, she would pay me and let me live with her, and I would move with them to whichever city she ended up getting assigned her medical residency. It wasn’t hard for me to love Salt Lake City, I already loved so many other cities on her list, and I loved spending time with my niece, so I was happy with this deal.

After I got back from Utah I started getting ready for my next big trip. I was going to meet my friend in Bangkok, Thailand after he finished his 2 year service in the Peace Corps in November. We planned a 5 week trip to Thailand, Cambodia, Japan, and Hawaii. To summarize: I traveled a part of the world I had never been remotely near and learned a lot about what I’m capable of. I plan on going back to Southeast Asia as soon as I have money again and staying even longer. 

I flew back on Christmas Eve and got to spend it with my family. The next few months I moved back and forth between Gainesville to babysit and Melbourne to relax at home. I explored some cool areas of Florida and visited family in New York. I planned to hike a few weeks on the Appalachian trail alone and chickened out because of the weather (and my often-crippling fear of being alone). 

In April I planned a road trip to Texas with a friend but he had to back out last minute. I spent days trying to convince myself to go alone. I didn’t want to chicken out of another thing I wanted to do so badly. So, I just went for it. It was a bit chaotic, at times boring, but I had a great time and spent quality time with good friends in great cities.

In May I set off on another big trip, this time with my family. I spent 4 weeks in Europe: Portugal, Spain, France, Italy, Ireland, and Czech Republic. Most of the time we were in Italy, visiting places we’ve been before, exploring new areas, and visiting distant relatives in the home my great grandfather was born in.

Toward the end of my trip, someone I idolized died, not passively, he killed himself, and I felt like I was on the verge of bursting into tears for 2 days. (What’s the point of me pushing myself to travel the world, face my fears, and live the life I’ve always imagined if I could live that dream life and still be destroyed from the inside?) But I cried and I ate good food and I drank good wine and I went back to traveling and appreciating the opportunity I had to see the world with people I love.

When I got back I started to prepare to move, somewhat reluctantly. My sister had gotten assigned to work in New York, on Long Island, where my entire family is from. I thought I was going somewhere new but instead I was going somewhere old, somewhere I had been many times. I didn’t want to leave Florida either. I love it there and I loved somebody there. I went anyway, I needed to make a change, and I knew I should spend time with my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins in New York while I have the opportunity to.

I went to see my best friend before I left, and her new baby boy, proof that life comes around full circle. She got pregnant again not too long after our trip and now there’s a brand new person in the world, figuring everything out the way we all do.

So here I am, in my new bedroom on Long Island, over-explaining the year I was 25 and worrying about what 26 will challenge me to. This year has been more of a ride than I ever could have expected, but it was a hell of a lot more interesting than sitting at a desk the whole year I was 24. 

At 25 I got to quit my office job. I traveled to 8 different countries. I went to more national parks than I ever had. I loved and lost the same person about a hundred times (and it doesn’t seem to hurt any less each time). I moved to a new state. I made new friends. I reconnected with old friends. I got to spend more time with my nieces than I have in years. I gained a nephew. I realized I had let myself idolize someone for the first time in my life as I lost them. I was genuinely happy for significant portions of this past year. I thought 25 was old, but now I’m 26 and I’m still growing… like literally, I keep going up shoe sizes.

I’ve let myself be sad for the past few weeks, I’ve been feeling lonely, I’m running out of money, and I’m living in a place I never thought I would be. But today is my birthday whether I like it or not and I’m going to put my big girl pants on, eat some cake, and start a new year.

Anthony Bourdain

I’m sitting in the kitchen of a rented apartment in Pisa about to eat a "cup o’ noodles" that I doctored to make vegetarian. I just found out that Anthony Bourdain is dead. He killed himself.

I don’t think I’ve ever cried when someone famous has died but I’m finding it difficult not to cry now. I can’t stop sniffling over the notebook I'm writing in. I didn’t realize I cared so much but I do.

I rip the lid off the paper cup of soup. I'm trying to figure out why he meant so much to me, why I'm so choked up.

I've always been passionate about food, especially eating, but as I grow older and develop my own morals and preferences about food I've become passionate about cooking as well. I was always a little interested in traveling but until I was introduced to Anthony Bourdain's shows, I didn't ever think about traveling all over the world or making travel into a lifestyle.

If I hadn't spent so much time learning about the world through Bourdain's shows, I wouldn't be where I am today. I wouldn't have quit my comfy salaried job, left my favorite city, and made it a priority to travel.

Parts Unknown is one of the best shows ever made. It makes an effort to feature all aspects of

culture. It seemed that only in this one space, a show was allowed to be about everything all at once. In a world of targeted audiences and themes and hobby-dedicated channels, Parts Unknown was just a show put together by a guy who wanted to explore all of his interests and feature lesser-known parts of the world.

In my own little world, I've constantly been worried about picking my niche. It seems like I'm only allowed to have one interest, one focus, and one career. Instead of deciding, I've been kind of floating around lost, choosing nothing, accomplishing little. It started when they asked me to pick a major before I started college, and it hasn't ended. I wonder, what one subject of all the universe of things I'm interested in should I choose to focus my attention and energy on? Then everyone looks at me and says writing. But what one thing am I going to be forced to write about for eternity?

By the time Bourdain created Parts Unknown, he didn't have to choose anymore. I find that incredibly inspiring and intimidating. Bourdain was passionate about writing, cooking, music, eating, traveling, and talking to people. He was rebellious and steered his show how he wanted to, not to appeal to a certain audience of a certain channel. (It’s on CNN for God’s sake. It’s journalism, not just a food show.)

He travelled all over, not just the places people think they want to see. He interviewed people, normal people, talented people, powerful people, and he cares about what’s going on in their lives and countries.

It’s not lost on me that I happen to be eating a fifty cent cup of noodles while I’m in a country known mainly for its food. It’s also not lost on me that I happen to be traveling the world at this moment. I’m getting crumbs on the page as I dip something called “friselle” in the broth. It looks like a halved bagel that's been toasted until it's crunchy throughout. It's usually dipped in water before eaten so... in a way I'm doing it right. It’s a testament to my love of food that I’m still eating as I write this.

I wish I had a glass of wine in front of me but I’ll have to fall asleep sober. The wine would probably make me cry anyway. If I was alone I’d like to lean into this sadness and get it all out, but I’m not. I haven’t had much space in 3 weeks of traveling with my sister and her family and my family.

After I eat I'll spend the rest of the night and most of the next day alternating between trying not to cry and crying. I want to say I've been crying for the loss of someone who inspired me so much but I know there's more to it. I've been crying because someone who was such a spectacular human being didn't want to be in this world anymore. The world needs more people like Anthony Bourdain, not less. When the world we live in pushes people so wonderful out, it's hard to want to be here anymore.

I hope a wave of change is coming.

More people should meet others from around the world, sit down with them, and try their food.