grace and glory

You're in the midst of moments full of fear,
the unknown looms in a way you never imagined you'd be afraid of.

The necessity of leaving, of stepping away from the first real comfort you can remember.
The special moments you know you'll miss - the distance you're departure is sure to create.

These thoughts weigh heavy on your heart, your eyes droop with the tears of saying goodbye, even though goodbye is weeks, neigh months, away.

It's all in preparation, all in advance notice, all in protection of your fragile heart.

How to leave those you love, and who love you the most?

Then it hits you - the glorious reality of it all. You are loved! You are surrounded by those whose lives matter to you, whose joy matters to you. Distance means nothing in relation to this.

And as your adventure opens up before you, you are struck with the sheer magnitude of it all. How is it that you should be fortunate enough to be walking into the life you are about to take on?

There are no words, there is nothing that can capture the enormity of having turned dreams into reality.

But knowing you go with the wings of those you love behind you, this is the most glorious thing of all.

the little things

A friend returned from Hawaii last week and brought me an assortment of my favorite pikake scented lotions and body oils. I dabbed a bit of the perfume oil on each wrist this morning and every time I answer the phone I catch the faint scent of the islands in summer. It's such a simple thing, and yet it reminds me of those moments in which you find yourself on a beach in the evening, nothing but stars above and waves in front, and you marvel that somehow you ended up in this perfect piece of the world. I've had those moments, I'll have more and sometimes I just need a little reminder.

life is good

On tonight's menu:

Artisan cheeses with truffle infused honey and a balsamic fig reduction
Citrus and Avocado Arugala Salad
Fresh blue cheese and potato gnocchi
Creme puffs with fresh strawberry filling

Oh, and copious amounts of wine.

absence

You should see my draft folder. Or the scraps of paper throughout my purse. Or the notebook in which I'm attempting to keep a running to-do list. For, in all, you'd find writing - and good, insightful writing at that. Somehow, it just doesn't make it to this here blog. I'm sorry for that. The truth is, if I take things back to the origins of this blog - to dating, the quest for love and figuring out all things related to the heart - well, I have more to write about now than ever. This might sound silly, but I literally have guys (o.k., graceful woman, perhaps I should call them MEN) coming out of my ears. From a long-term friend who still holds out hope, to a more casual friend whose hints about me being the "perfect woman" are getting more and more frequent, to the Frenchman and of course the more local beau (currently avoiding me following the Frenchman's visit), to a friend in Kenya who flirts over gmail about my impending move to Nairobi, and the new arrival of the most charming (but younger!) man I've ever met - I'm having trouble making sense of it all.

So you'd think I would be writing about it, for this is where all the emotion and angst of such things usually spills forth. Perhaps it's that nothing about all of this feels 'so-called' anymore, it all seems very, very real. The opportunities, the attention - the possibilities for heart ache (and not just my own), the variety! And more than that, the change in my perspective as more and more of my friends couple up - in good, healthy couplings at that, and I start to see how important it is to make good choices in who you "settle" down with (ha!). Still, If the universe is telling me anything amidst all this attention, I'd have to say it is to look at things in any way but in terms of settling, but to instead take advantage of the opportunity to get to know people and evaluate how I react to certain attention, with whom do I feel most at ease, most myself? Who is inspiring? Who is intimidating? To who (whom?) can I return the same level of affection being offered? It is hard to look at people and relationships for such pure educational gain - but given my impending departure for far off lands, settling down with anyone right now makes little to no sense (though no, that doesn't mean I'm counting anyone out!).

So I'll keep meandering through, enjoying the flattery of various suitors, and hopefully coming up with something to share while I attempt to not be so hard on myself for allowing the attention. I do have a sense that it's all a part of the journey that ends with me and my heart being ready to ultimately take that leap and focus on one person that I will invite into my life and the path I'm on. I know deep down this is what I want, but I kid you not in recent years there have been moments when it has been the most terrifying of prospects. I think I'm gradually growing out of that commitment phobia, but I suppose it never hurts to go out with a bang (and let's not take that out of context, shall we?).

going out on a limb

It's almost too much to try and summarize this year, package it up so that come tomorrow morning I know what it all meant and where I'm supposed to go from here. I know it's been a ball buster (as if I had balls to bust) in more ways than one. I know I've lived deep, laughed often and learned more about love in all its forms than perhaps ever before. I know that at this moment, I'm kinda down about it all because for so much of this year I thought I was clarifying my direction in life - I've had so much affirmation that the choices I've made have been the right ones. I don't know if it's all the stuff that's come up in recent months, or if it's a winter-induced chemical imbalance, or perhaps it's just my turn to have some down time after starting 2007 with romance and adventures. Either way, I'm having a hard time keeping my optimism cap on these days, so perhaps my only resolution that I hope not to abandon immediately come the new year, is to keep putting myself out there. Keep trying new things, taking advantage of opportunities, pushing my limits.

On that note, here's the result of a bit of just such seizing the moment - the first time I figured out how to use my new macbook to do video, and the second time my singing partner and I met up. You can tell I don't know all the words by heart, that I'm kinda shy even when my only audience is a piece of metal, and that my uploading capabilities are woefully lacking (hence the abrupt cut off at the end...which does me huge favors as we royally bastardized the ending). Still - there it is, some moments to use my voice, to do something just because it feels good and I can.

Happy New Year!!!

5 days in Foley

So far the perks of having a darling French boyfriend have not yet included romantic strolls through the renowned city de l'amour. Nope, next stop for us is not Paris, but Foley. Alabama. That's right, the Southern Coast. A veritable dream for a Cali girl like myself...

I suppose I should withhold judgement until I go, perhaps I'm just starting to be swayed by the look of worry on every ones face when they have to ask me where I will be seeing Richard next, and Foley is my response. I don't think anyone has anything against the South, per se, but there does seem to be some concern regarding visiting the South in the summer. Or, as my mom pointed out, in the middle of hurricane season.

It won't be the first time I plan a trip to a weather-challenged local - I spent the fall of 2002 in Costa Rica during the four rainiest months of the year. That said, there were few, if any, hurricane warnings while I was there.

While we're living it up in Foley (I should explain - Richard will be there for work, I will be there for Richard, but working from the hotel for the week), we hope to find a theater showing Julie Delpy's new movie, "2 Days in Paris." I admit, I'm a bit nervous - both to see a movie that shoves the challenges of a cross cultural (and in our case, cross-continental) relationship in our face, as well as to partake in the reality of said movie later this year when my non-French speaking ass makes her way to Paris.

Wish me luck, dear readers, that I make it through the hurricanes, through the movie and eventually onto a plane that is headed to France to discover for myself what it's like to be in love in such a city. Until then, I'll think of you while I'm toasting my more immediate love reunion in the deep South:

"Enjoy sighting and photographing the many species of native wildlife. With an estuary nearby, you may spot a flycatcher, a hummingbird, a plover, or butterflies such as the Gulf Fritillary, Monarch, or Spicebush Swallowtail. This area earns its title as the “Golf” Coast with more than a dozen professionally designed golf courses." Ah...Foley.

in case I can't type tomorrow

Today I went to the gym for a lower body workout with my trainer.

I am leaving that first sentence in as a reminder to everyone the importance of saying what you're writing inside your head before committing it to the page.

Anyway, after said workout, I met up with my cousins and we went to a friend's house for a workout of a different kind. A workout that is one-part trendy and all-parts sexy - two things I tend to avoid (the first by choice, the second by the sheer reality of how I was made): pole dancing.

I've known this trend has been going around, and I haven't held it against people as I do the workouts that require three easy payments of $39.95 and come with fourteen free videos that so many suckers fall victim to. Still, I never thought it would be for me.

But hey, I'm in a new (albeit old) place, I need to get out of the house, I'm trying to get in shape - and I'm desperate for girl time. So red wine and pole dancing? Sign me up.

You know what? It was fun! I attempted to sit and watch and stoically drink my wine in the beginning, but after my cousin who has two metal rods fused to her entire spine (due to an insane case of scoliosis when she was in high school) started twirling around effortlessly, I had to give it a try. The great thing about pole dancing? If you have two left feet, it doesn't matter - you're feet aren't even on the ground! Sure, there are other things to hang you up - hand placement, the less-than-comfortable friction caused when tender skin meets cold metal under the entire weight of your body - but in the moments when you manage to spin around just so, you discover a grace you didn't know you had. Hell, it's more than grace - it's a sense that if a certain someone was in the room, it wouldn't matter in the least that you're wearing a sweaty sports bra and ugly running shorts.

I tell you this, I've never walked away from a weight machine with that feeling. Now I just need to see if I can handle the leg bruises that are sure to show up tomorrow, and the potential of what someone tonight referred to as "inner thigh callouses." Talk about killing the sexy.

Quite possibly the most boring post ever

But I've got health insurance - yay!!!