Material Girl

I try to not put much value into material things, especially as I get older. Even sentimental value. I can't, otherwise I would need a permanent place to call home and keep all of the tidbits I've collected over the years. Perhaps that's the reason why most people want to buy a home or rent an apartment or stay in one place for a long time. So they can keep all of their things and not have to go through the agony of deeming the long-ago Christmas gifts from their mother as ready for Goodwill, or the decades-old sketch books half-full of half-complete and poorly formed penciled figures as garbage, or the well-worn and falling apart piano books that taught them how to play as no longer necessary. It's sad to go through boxes that have been stored for 6 or 7 years now, and feel only a tired numbness towards these things that once made up my environment, my life. There's a sting of guilt at disposing what were gifts, but it's the memory that counts and I cannot keep them all. I simply can't. I'd have to change my whole life plan in order to. Out of the ten or so boxes of the stuff that, 7 years ago, I thought I'd keep forever, I've retained enough to fill one large box, the majority being books and photo albums. I'm starting to think that it's a painful combination - being both a wanderer and a sentimental one. One who wants to explore as much as possible with little on her back, yet also wants to keep everything and pour over completed chapters and never let the past go. It's a life of constant tension and clashing emotions. My life is so sparse right now. Pruned right down to the bone. But I think I'm okay with that. If I wasn't, I'd be leading a different life.

The Art of Saying Goodbye

If you've been wondering how to properly say goodbye to someone you care about but will not see for a long time, if ever again, I've come up with a step-by-step guide that might help. This happens when either you or they are moving to a different city, state, country, or even continent. After moving away several times and leaving numerous amazing people, people who I'd much rather keep in my life, but can't 'cause that's how my life works, I've developed the following strategies that make said move easier (though never pain free). Warning: This guide may not work for you, as it has only been implemented by one person. Me.

Step 1: Prior to a month before your (or their) departure, don't think about it too much. Let it sit meekly in the back of your mind that the end is nearing, but do not let it start to taint your time with your friends and family. Go about life as usual, despite also needing to make flight / passport / visa / moving arrangements in your free time.

Step 2: When there's about a month left, think about who is important to you and make individual plans with them to do the things you usually do together. It might be one person, it might be 10, but make sure you make individual plans with every person that you even faintly enjoy being around and care about. For me, this helps to close doors and move on without feeling like something has been left unresolved. Also include the people who seek out spending time with you. You never know who you're important to and who wants to say goodbye.

Step 3: About a week prior to departure, only spend time with those closest to you. Don't waste time on the people you're not particularly fond of or the people who didn't treat you well (hopefully that doesn't sound cruel). Still, don't let your looming departure sadden your time with this closest group. Continue to carry on as usual, knowing in the back of your mind that the end is drawing near, but keeping things positive instead of sad. Don't let your final memories with your friends be full of sorrow. Make new, positive memories together that will stick with you for the rest of your life.

Step 4: When the time comes to say goodbye for the last time to someone, especially your closest ones, don't skimp, but don't go on too long. If you're a hugger, give the person a meaningful hug. Be honest. Tell them that you'll miss them. Tell them that you're sad to leave and that they really had an impact on you and that you hope to see them again in the future. Let it show, now, that it really is hard to leave. You've been holding it in for the past month, but now is the time to let them know that they really, truly will be missed and will always be missed. Try not to cry too much or make too much of a scene because it just gets awkward after a while. But, most importantly, make your goodbye honest and genuine towards each unique person. Now's not the time for false words, overly dramatic farewells, or holding back thoughts the person would probably like to hear.

Step 5: Leave. Don't drag it out forever. Say goodbye meaningfully to each person you need to say goodbye to, and leave. But, don't be afraid to look back and catch one last glimpse of that marvelous soul. It very well may be the last time you'll ever see them.

Step 6: When the time is right, let all of the sorrow and tears completely out. Embrace the sadness and let it momentarily engulf you. For each person, the right time is different. It might be an hour later, in the nighttime window of your thankfully dark plane. It might be twenty hours later, in the quiet of your darkened room. It might be a week later, in your car pulled off to the side of the road en route to your new home. At some point, let it happen.

Step 7: Carry your friends and family with you wherever you go, tucked safely into the little chambers of your heart. Keep them there and don't forget about them, no matter how little you talk to them. They're a part of you, just as you're a part of them.

Step 8: Go out and say hello to the new people around you. You never know which might become the ones you'll eventually have to say goodbye to.          

Ozzie

Yesterday, our sweet Oz-monster, Oz-log, KamakOzzie, Mister Ozzie would have turned 17. I'm going to deeply miss this little old wonderful man for the rest of my life.

I hope you're resting well, my dearest old friend. You have no idea how much you mean to me.

Let's Dance

Is this a tango? A samba? I don't know. I also didn't know how to end it, so it just...ends. The final semester of my grad school experience starts tomorrow and I'm looking forward to diving into work and coming up for a fresh breath of air at the end. Hopefully in the form of a fellowship with the English Language Fellows program. Hopefully in Chile. Or Mongolia. Or Argentina. Or Belarus. Or Turkey. Or South Africa. Or ... you get the picture. Or Reno. It is always there, being missed.

Home

this is where I come from
that sand runs through my veins
and is what I always miss
and is all I need to be home

First

This is the first song I came up with. It's a little repetitive, but I think it's my favorite...just because it was the first. I hope you like my blinds.

a song of my own

I seem to have lost the ability to write anything remotely interesting. Maybe it'll come back once grad school is over. Instead, I recently found that I can come up with really simple songs. Back when I was 9, I started taking piano lessons and have played pretty much ever since, but never for the life of me could come up with a new song. Grad school and Peace Corps may have done something to my brain because all of a sudden, I've got songs. Since I can't write anymore, I'll share one of them here. I hope it's not too painful to your ears. Please enjoy a lovely shot of my blinds, as well.