Let’s begin again

Several months have passed in complete silence. This is primarily due to the fact that I have undergone a complete metamorphosis and spent my energy on positive life changes. Most of which I’m not going to tell you about — but you can just know that they are huge and empowering. Indeed, one reason I haven’t written is that some of my old friends and loves would not understand or believe me. There has been a lot of letting go of the past and negative residuals — hopefully anyone impacted will one day understand. My bigger hope is that maybe me changing will prompt positive action in others.

I will, however, share the fact that I am trying to get in shape and have begun training for a 5k in August. Ah, yes, August. The dreaded Atlanta month. The peak of humidity and sweat and grime. I’m not being an idiot about it though. I am starting slow and only training in the cool of the day. I’ll let you know how my reconnecting with my body goes. I’ve lived a life of contemplation and have decided that action is called for.

Wish me luck and more words from me sooner than you think!

Padgett bash, old school style

I’ll let the pictures tell most of the tale — but everyone I talked to said they had a blast. It was fantastic seeing so many old friends and family from both sides show up and have a good time. Just wish the weekend could have gone on longer.

Dads 70th April 2011

Aughts be gone

I wanted to write something lovely, something that would tidy up the decade nicely so I could send it on its way. But, like so much of the past 10 years, I’m out of time.

In an earlier post, I pointed out that it has been a sucky decade — but I’m a creature of positive and negative, so let me point out some of the good things that have (personally) happened.

• My god-daughter was born in this decade. That would be the number one good thing. She redeems a lot, in my mind.
• I earned my 2nd Masters and that has led me to a profession that I love and feel comfortable in.
• Naturally, I can’t not mention Italy. Being able to survive and experience life outside of my comfort zone; getting to know wonderful people; walking the streets of Florence; well — the whole life I lived there has left a permanent and beautiful mark on me.
• Alternately, living in Tallahassee definitely allowed me to meet some of the best and most interesting people ever. Those Tally days where I emerged from heart ache, walked the quiet neighborhood of pine trees, laughed with Cheryl, played with little Evan, and all of the time with Claudia and the muslibfolk — well, that helped make me stronger.

There are little things, private things that I’ll leave off. But I will say I find it fitting that I left Atlanta in 1999 and ended the aughts back here. Honestly, it’s been a mixed bag of tricks. The whole decade has been that. Maybe it’s not the decade’s fault. I know deep down that is life. Good and bad, pain and pleasure, alienation and connection. It will happen again and again, in different ways for us all. The repetition can be a comforting hum.

Happy New Decade everyone! I’m taking Kimbre’s advice and blending it with my own needs. So tonight I’ll be a bit social and say goodbye to the aughts with friends, but will wake early and great the new year alone and looking at the world. Greens and black-eyed peas to follow (certo).

Fireflies

Recently, on a walk with my god daughter, we both became enthralled with the occasional flicker of lightening bugs. I keep meaning to go on a firefly expedition with her. We all have memories of capturing them in jars (and hopefully letting them out before too long). I have cousins that would try to make glowing rings out of them — cruelty seems so innocent in the guise of discovery.

So, this morning, I was happy to see an article in New York Times about the complicated life of a firefly. It claims they live for 2 years underground and then average only 2 weeks above ground mating. That fact alone amazes me. And their larvae glow. There are more males than females. The desired males, get this, give protein gifts upon mating! I love that. “Here you are, have some food to help your stamina.” Such grace and practicality in their passion.

Maybe my soul mate escaped from the bottom of a jar one summer day? His promise of sustenance fading away, seeking his own kind. Ah the glow — if only I’d understood in time.

Enjoy your summer spectacles.

Commitment

If I write it, it is true, yes?

Saturday I dropped Luigi off and picked Shelby up at the airport. He was jokingly calling me the “eternal host” due to my busy house schedule, but Shelby chipped in and helped me clean and tidy the apartment for Sunday’s big cheese party. Yes, someone brought up fondue and the next thing you know wars are waged on Cheddar and Swiss and chocolate.

I did not take any pictures. Which is one reason why I’m writing this. I have a few promises to make after the day of cheese.

• First, I must download and post all of the pictures I’ve taken since August 8 of this year.
• Second, eating is lighter and better for me as of today.
• Third, my ugly habits are meeting their end times. This is my pre-holiday resolution.

Any advice? Encouragement? I’ll need every good vibe I can get.

On top of all of this, I want to commit myself to an attitude adjustment. Looking at Luigi’s pictures of my city, there is so much I just don’t see because I just don’t have the energy. There is nothing and no one preventing me from exploring all the juicy tidbits my hometown has to offer. Work is work and it pays the bills — but life . . . well, you have to pay attention to it while you can.

Stealing beauty

Right now I’m stealing time. It’s 8:10 at Westwood and the students are clicking away at the keyboards. I’ve tried to limit my personal computer time during work these first two weeks, but I still have coffee to drink and am officially not awake and so what’s a few minutes to let the few of you in on something.

This isn’t about my new job and it’s not about being back—both good things, but maybe not enough right now. This is about the important bits of beauty that come into your life and how you have to treasure them. Really this is about Skunk Ape. You know how in high school someone says with the worldly experience of a 16 year old that “everything is temporary” and you cling to that sentiment and their hipness and begin to emulate just how unattached you can become in your personal life and you cease reflecting on the recently discarded childhood and innocence and eventually, about 20 years later, you think “yeah, nothing is real” and the meaning changed? Or is that just me? Well, I have a few things that have buoyed me through the rootless ideological idiocy–family, friends, and the cats that possess me. And Skunk Ape, aka Ms. Monkles, russet nose princess of my heart had to be put to sleep this Monday.

So this is a plea to you all, find that beautiful bit in your life and enjoy it while it lasts. Learn from it, emulate it, document it—but don’t put it off or forget it’s importance. Because everything really is temporary, but experiencing it is real.

that old thing

Packing so far has resulted in two huge blue IKEA bags full of clothes to donate. Seems simple. I’m the girl that complains about the amount of “stuff” we have, I like to cling to the idea that minimal is better (except for in the case of books, really, that’s still tough for me). And most of you that know me are laughing, right? I mean, I also love little treasures, small tokens of friendship, endearing triggers that help me remember.

Yet, in spite of my hypocrisy (or dichotomy or whatever, split personality) usually when it comes to clothes I am all about donating. And I’m doing it now. With startling results. I mean, come Fall you may find a large chunk of Florentines dressing like middle-aged librarians (probably not though). And yet . . . yeah, I’d forgotten a few snags in my desire for an almost clothes-less state. I am a sentimental creature.

There are 2 items of note that have made it to the “maybe” stack. One is a gray long sleeve t-shirt from the Gap that I bought around 1994. OK. I know. I mean, it is 14 years old now and well past it’s prime. But still, it saw Jane’s Addiction play. I remember the night I wore it to one of Shelle and Patrick’s Halloween parties (because I was lazy and dressed as a movie goer). I also remember Shelby saying that year (1998 I think) “Julia, shouldn’t you retire that?” That gray shirt also went to Ireland with me and my old boyfriend Keith. I’m sure it went to Washington and Oregon with Mark and I. I used to wear flannel shirts over it in the late Fall. The shirt has history, it has been a constant during my adult years.

And then there is the tree outfit. Well, the outfit is down to the blazer part. Called the tree outfit because it is made from tencel. It was the first big thing Mark ever bought me and a gift on my 28th birthday. I know it cost him a lot of money because he bought it at one of those little boutiques in Virginia Highlands. It came in a brown sack with green ink. So earth friendly. He bought a dark brown neck scarf to match it. And I really was touched by the consideration and thrilled by it and wore it to work and well, you know, that is memorable. The first gift by your first love.

So these two things sit waiting judgement. I think I’ll give them away. Having written down the memories here helps (sorry to bore you all). And there are all of these other memories now, all of the things I can’t leave behind. Zoe art. Lori and Shelby letters. My writing angel. Books from Luigi. The list goes on, but you get the idea: stuff.

loosing weight

And so, here we have it.

Deciding to go home (again) has spun me into a dizzy emotional carnival ride. I’ve been told I am “quitting the country” and most days this does feel like breaking up with a place. I listen to the advice of my mother “take it one month at a time” and my friends “you can always return” and my boyfriend “you need more than being another working poor of Italy” and know that they are wise.

Unfortunately, they do not have to think about packing.

And having been here on and off for almost 3 years, I have a lot to pack.

Envisioning all of the tokens of my life here, lined up on the spare bed with my suitcase open, I immediately feel sick. Not just sick, full. After Thanksgiving dinner full. Eating a kebab and drinking a beer full. Dark chocolate and potato chips at 3 a.m. full. I want to vomit.

And that desire has lead me here to this working Saturday with a bit of clarity and some regret (regret being the ugliest word in the English language). I have to loose weight. Not just physically, though that would help, but all of my items are weighing me down with their importance (real or imagined). So I have to let it go. And not just them, all of the little things I haven’t and will not get to. I want to let them all go. Book ideas, sets of sheets, fantastic novels, travel plans, beauty products, little stones gathered here and there, tacky jewelry, market bought clothes, chance encounters, familiarity afar, tolling bells — I just need to let them go. Because the memories and the friendships and the honest connections I’ve made with this place and most of all the bizarrely beautiful love that I’ve found, well that is more than I need.

And for once, I’m going to trust my memory and life to keep giving the good stuff back to me.

Weekend Road-tripping

Impulse will take you places. Last week I had an unexpected few days off and Cinque Terre beckoned. Initially, we were going to check out a restaurant but when the weather turned nice, Luigi and I opted for my first visit to Genoa.There was a pit stop at a neat place over looking the sea in between. We found ginger and rum drinks and some of the preppy and bit too chatty clientele. But the view was great and the music was Ben Harper, so we hung out on the edge and in between so-to-speak.

Genoa found us at after midnight and the hotel situation was a bit scarce. There was another bar open and this time the locals seemed an appropriate blend of entertaining. The bar, was 28 Erbe and open late. Genoa seems more vibrant at night than Florence. To me it was great, but one of the ladies at the bar compared it to an Octopus that grabs you and never lets you go. I guess home towns have that effect on everyone.

The next day we went to the Museum of Asian Art which is housed in a nice modern building in a little green forest on a hill that overlooks the city. Walking and riding the bus and looking for information took most of our time but we found some great graffiti, working girls, cafes, and a bustling busy place.

On the way back we stopped in Cinque Terre again to check on hotels for a longer stay in July. I mean really, we were working, not playing — or as one would say “evaluating, considerating*, and calculating.” When you look at t that way, you realize one’s work is never done.

Click this link for pictures.

*Please note that only a non-native speaker of the English language would say considerating.  🙂

this one goes out to the ones I love

According to Wikipedia, in Finland, Valentine’s Day instead of being solely for romantic love actually translates into something like “Friend’s Day”. I like this. Valentine’s has always been a mixed bag of tricks for me. As a truly single living in Atlanta, it was more about forgetting (through copious amounts of alcohol) the Hallmark spin on love. When I was part of a long relationship, it was the day we celebrated as our “anniversary” and now as a constantly morphing single in love, well, who knows how to express it. So a Friend’s Day, well, I think today I’ll claim Finnish heritage.

In spite of the fact I’ve known and experienced great loves (and still do) the consistent steady beat of friendship is what makes my heart race because I have the best friends. Eclectic, fun, intelligent, inspiring and most of all trusted. I honestly love my friends. And though I also have great parents and family, I lucked into them. So today I want to send all of my love to my lovelies; the ones who are not blood bound to tolerate me, the ones who always pick up the phone and the ones that never hesitate to laugh or cry or debate or celebrate with me. Thank you thank you thank you. I love you all.

HAPPY TRUE LOVE DAY!

(un bacione)