Dew Point

I'm not sure when it happened, but it happened. I worked so hard to try to cement the things I learned in Italy into my brain, but it all seems to have evaporated. The lofty goals for myself? Haven't been able to accomplish any of them. And it's my fault, no two ways about it. I get back into my "American" habits and find myself depressed and back in the same spot all over again.
At work, I am now surrounded by completely new people with a whole new realm of politics to maneuver. And while it is a vast improvement over my last position, it is still sitting in a cube making a big corporation more money. At the end of the day, all I can think about is that humans were not meant to be like this. I miss moving like I did naturally with my chores in Italy. I miss so much about Italy, it's painful.
With the evaporation of yet another relationship, I am once again, alone. In Italy when I was alone - which was very often - I knew why I was alone. I was in a foreign country, my friends and family no where to be found. I had no roots there to grow from, no ties to the area to build off of. I had a an excuse to be alone and that was manageable. Here, it's a different game. Everywhere seems to be a reminder of that void. And while I am the one giving this panic energy, I still have a hard time stopping it.
In an effort to divert some of my obsessive nature, I have decided to take up training for a rookie triathlon. Maybe I can take all the negative relentless pounding I do on myself about my personal life and turn it into something positive. A fit body and a sprint triathlon to add to my resume. I hope to god this works, because the alternatives are not so positive. I find myself back watching TV more than I would like to admit in a way to make the hours go by faster and without me noticing them quite so much. And while I still (thankfully) do not have the tolerance for alcohol that I once had, it still creeps into my social life with alarming frequency and with a promise every time of making me forget that I am not happy with where things are. I can't control it. I can't control my love life, that's obvious. I can't force someone to walk into my life. I can control my career and while I still want to give this new position a chance, I know it is not my dream job. The problem is, I don't know what I want to do. This whole writing thing is awesome and I love it - when I have something to write about that interests people. Some people kept up with my blog and I am happy that I could provide some entertainment for them in that way. Coming back was quite  a different experience and I didn't prepare myself for people not really wanting to hear about all the cool things I did over there. Of all the culture shock I experienced, that was the worst and by far the biggest disappointment and left a quite bitter taste in my mouth. So again, best I just write about it - assuming "it" is happening. Do I send myself off on another trip? Do I somehow do travel writing? I'm not sure, but writing about my everyday life isn't going to intrigue anyone. And then I end up right where I started - what do I do with my life, my career. I have no more of an answer than I did before I left.
At this moment, right now, other than the friends I made in Italy, it almost feels like it never happened.

A Christmas Carol

Over the weekend I caught a glimpse of Bill Murray’s version of A Christmas Carol called Scrooged during one of my rare TV sessions these days. It’s one of those 80’s flicks with terrible action shots and way overdone hair and makeup, but it did get me thinking about life perceived through the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future. Mostly the past is nothing but looking down memory lane, remembering the highs and the lows and seeing how far you’ve come since that geeky kid in high school. You remember lessons learned, love lost, the thrill of that promotion or a good friend’s baby being born. It’s remembering how you got to the here and now.

And if the ghost of Christmas present were to visit me today, it would paint a much different picture than if it visited me last week. Today is a day of firsts. A new job. An updated wardrobe. A clean(ish) slate. I look at my present and can only marvel at how pretty darn awesome it is. And although I have recently lost my best friend, I have five other good friends and an amazing family waiting in the wings to be there when I need them. I have a cat that runs to the door as soon I put my key in the lock as I come home and a stick shift car that I absolutely adore. My shower has water pressure, I have heat without throwing wood on a furnace and I don’t have to worry about where next month’s mortgage payment is going to come from. I have nothing to complain about.

I have no idea what the ghost of Christmas future would show me. A different career maybe, a different city. A husband and family – but maybe not. The thing about walking away from any relationship or friendship is that you are walking away from a life. Birthdays not celebrated, trips not taken, forgone late nights out and about, bitch sessions about this or that not held. That future that once had a framework is blank yet again. A new job where I have general expectations but am not entirely sure of produces about the same sort blank page. It takes every ounce of me not to flat out panic at the lack of structure of things to come. All I can do is take a deep breath, remember the horses grazing in the pasture, the peace and quiet of the farm, the warmth of the house after the wood stove is stoked and hold onto the calm I found in Italy. As the weeks go on, I think I’m going to be surprised at how much of an impact that trip had on me. And that I am really looking forward to.

Avoiding the Blue Screen of Death

Well now that certainly didn't go as planned.
Coming back to Austin certainly had a rocky start at Polvo's. I was slammed with a lot of news and events that I had missed while I was gone, some good and some not so good. And, to make matters worse, the margaritas didn't even taste good! My favorite drink in all of Austin and I can barely stand the stuff anymore. I have found that with several food items now - my taste buds seem to have done a grand 180 on me when it comes to very sweet or very spicy foods. The margaritas taste incredibly tart and artificially flavored (which they are) and salsa that I didn't even used to blink an eye at now have me downing water and flagging the waiter for a glass of milk (ok, so maybe it's not that bad, but it certainly feels like it). My tolerance for alcohol has also gone down considerably. Where before I left I was known to be able to hold my liquor quite well, now, if I have two glasses of wine, you might as well put me in a cab because I am down for the count.
These are actually really good things and I hope they stick with me. Pants fit better now. Blouses button a bit easier and I feel better about myself than I did before I left. But then again, there is the slide. The slippery, slippery slope back into what was my life before. It doesn't take much. Saying 'yes' to one or two more parties than you planned on, going out for lunch a little too regularly or allowing a friend to buy you just one more drink. There is also the more treacherous slide of slipping back into other far more damaging emotional habits, which are the demons I'm trying to avoid most - and doing quite poorly at, I might add.
I can beat myself up all I want. Call myself all the names I can possibly think of and have people poke holes in my personality and habits all day long. It's not going to change anything. All I can do is present the best version I can of myself and count on the bolstering of others to lift me up when that version just isn't available at the moment. And really, that's all any of us can do, take charge of and handle with care the things we hold in our control - and let the rest be what will be.