The last week was a mixture of pleasant alone time, and then socializing with family and friends. Someone asked me how long I'd been home, I said about a month, then realized it was just over a week. My concept of time is slightly skewed but its regaining balance slowly.
Earlier this week I had a long talk with a couple people, learned some new things and laughed a lot.
I've watched a million hours of Doc Martin, Luther, and Freaks and Geeks.
Occasionally I bake a couple dozen chocolate chip cookies when I'm really bored.
Last night I read a good book and had a good cry.
Sometimes I still feel like I went manic for 6 months, dreamed up China, became lucid, and am just now coming home.
Basically...I'm adjusting. I'm picking up the pieces between my divided worlds and stitching it back together.
Also I have this weird feeling of connection to any Asian person I see now, like they know I was in China, and they would want to talk to me. Gets more awkward if I discover they're American born.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Glad to Be Home, But Not Back Yet.
I'm neither here nor there now. My beings drift restlessly in both worlds. I can sense my mind in China, a pale memory there now, but lingering like the scent of lavender next to dried blooms. I'm breathing normally, my emotions mixing like oil and water; happiness sitting on the surface, but sadness is ever there. I feel like a foreigner in my own hometown, but I know being in China would only produce the same feeling...
I realize this transition is not new, nor do I feel a special brand of pain that no one else knows. I even know that the time it will take to adjust will be far less than I can now imagine, and should only wait until this passes...however I feel as if nothing soothes a heartache quite like relinquishing it into the inscrutable face of this internet void. Once expressed, I feel the touch of loneliness lighten, the fingers pull away from my face and rest quietly on my shoulder. Removed, but comfortably near.
Really that's the truth, isn't it? A resigned miserableness can have a certain appeal, there you are alone in your life experiencing it as a single soul in a dark hanging space. Somehow being so sad, so far from a friend's reach to pull you up into the sunshine and frivolity of their world makes you happy, or at least content. There is an attraction to slumber, the precursor to forever sleep. That dark purple stasis, where dreams and longings stretch forth straining to push through the veil and emerge into waking daylight. Where you can exist in comfortable paralysis, expecting nothing and ending it whenever you wish. I can see the pull of sleeping forever, the attraction of releasing responsibility and giving into gentle, unhurried rest. Although I can see it, I also recognize the parallels to it in other substances. It is just another drug of choice, another way to cope with or ignore life's complications. Sleep can be replaced with many other mind alternating things, and I cannot allow for that to creep into my life. The tendency of addiction is fairly strong in my nature, and circumvention seems the best method anyway. There again my pragmatic mind rears up and hisses; dependence upon sleep or otherwise is impractical and unacceptable. So I'll forge on, searching for something else to be safely addicted to instead.
I won't be at this level for ever, I know my experiences are not extreme, and I will not think these thoughts forever...however thinking them at all is unusual for me, and I am compelled to dispense them here, as one sheds cold water off one's skin.
Does every experience growing pains thus? I'm as a young plant eager to reach the sun's warmth, but caught under the foliage of my experiences, the shadows delaying growth. I look forward to the day when I burst forth into sunbeams, survey my new vantage point and finally understand what all that struggle was for.
Here I am exposing my naivety, putting my tender years under your scrutiny and finding myself surprisingly not frightened.
I'm not frightened...fragile, prideful, a bit defensive, and maybe a touch unsure of my choice of admitting all of the above...but not afraid.
I realize this transition is not new, nor do I feel a special brand of pain that no one else knows. I even know that the time it will take to adjust will be far less than I can now imagine, and should only wait until this passes...however I feel as if nothing soothes a heartache quite like relinquishing it into the inscrutable face of this internet void. Once expressed, I feel the touch of loneliness lighten, the fingers pull away from my face and rest quietly on my shoulder. Removed, but comfortably near.
Really that's the truth, isn't it? A resigned miserableness can have a certain appeal, there you are alone in your life experiencing it as a single soul in a dark hanging space. Somehow being so sad, so far from a friend's reach to pull you up into the sunshine and frivolity of their world makes you happy, or at least content. There is an attraction to slumber, the precursor to forever sleep. That dark purple stasis, where dreams and longings stretch forth straining to push through the veil and emerge into waking daylight. Where you can exist in comfortable paralysis, expecting nothing and ending it whenever you wish. I can see the pull of sleeping forever, the attraction of releasing responsibility and giving into gentle, unhurried rest. Although I can see it, I also recognize the parallels to it in other substances. It is just another drug of choice, another way to cope with or ignore life's complications. Sleep can be replaced with many other mind alternating things, and I cannot allow for that to creep into my life. The tendency of addiction is fairly strong in my nature, and circumvention seems the best method anyway. There again my pragmatic mind rears up and hisses; dependence upon sleep or otherwise is impractical and unacceptable. So I'll forge on, searching for something else to be safely addicted to instead.
I won't be at this level for ever, I know my experiences are not extreme, and I will not think these thoughts forever...however thinking them at all is unusual for me, and I am compelled to dispense them here, as one sheds cold water off one's skin.
Does every experience growing pains thus? I'm as a young plant eager to reach the sun's warmth, but caught under the foliage of my experiences, the shadows delaying growth. I look forward to the day when I burst forth into sunbeams, survey my new vantage point and finally understand what all that struggle was for.
Here I am exposing my naivety, putting my tender years under your scrutiny and finding myself surprisingly not frightened.
I'm not frightened...fragile, prideful, a bit defensive, and maybe a touch unsure of my choice of admitting all of the above...but not afraid.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Just the Two of Us
I'm home. After all that waiting, agonizing, whiling of hours and wishful thinking to be there...I'm there. I'm sitting in my kitchen, a dozen cookies sitting in front of me that I made earlier in the day. My mom and sister are comfortably near by, and the atmosphere is calm and cozy.
My mind is split in two. I feel half of me functioning as a person here in the world, smiling, talking, moving but I feel like its an old movie clip that's looping and replaying, instead of a live performance. My life here seems unchanged, and I had no obstacles slipping back into my role...
The other half of my mind is back in China, speaking Chinglish, tuning out incessant noises and having no other worries besides myself and the few things I should do. I'm trying to phase out the phrases I think of constantly in Chinese, and the general attitude I had. I'm struggling between happiness and a drowning despair...I'm a whole person, but the separation inside has almost created two entities.
I can see how easy it would be to fall into depression, to ignore the fact that this transition is one of the most complicated processes that I've been involved in and will probably take time to work through. It's day two, and I'm ready for this to blow over.
Sometimes I'm so strangely incapable of not being a functional human being, it kills me. I wish there was a part of me that gave up easily, and allowed my dark and twisty side to reach up softly and enfold me into quiet miserable bliss. But no...I'm here writing about my feelings, making it public and even baking cookies to stave off that temptation. How easy it would be to give in, but to what purpose? Nothing good would come of it, my exasperatingly practical mind whispers...might as well move on with life.
I have a couple project still due for school, and that interview for another job on campus to look forward to. There are other things that are worth getting up and showering for like my cat, or cafes with great music. My family will support me, and I will go on as unfailingly sensible as always.
China will be that experience I'll remember more than I can talk about, an experience of feelings I can't exactly completely share and a place that will hold a new meaning for me. The time I spent there will be unparallelled with any other place and my mind is forever altered.
My mind is split in two. I feel half of me functioning as a person here in the world, smiling, talking, moving but I feel like its an old movie clip that's looping and replaying, instead of a live performance. My life here seems unchanged, and I had no obstacles slipping back into my role...
The other half of my mind is back in China, speaking Chinglish, tuning out incessant noises and having no other worries besides myself and the few things I should do. I'm trying to phase out the phrases I think of constantly in Chinese, and the general attitude I had. I'm struggling between happiness and a drowning despair...I'm a whole person, but the separation inside has almost created two entities.
I can see how easy it would be to fall into depression, to ignore the fact that this transition is one of the most complicated processes that I've been involved in and will probably take time to work through. It's day two, and I'm ready for this to blow over.
Sometimes I'm so strangely incapable of not being a functional human being, it kills me. I wish there was a part of me that gave up easily, and allowed my dark and twisty side to reach up softly and enfold me into quiet miserable bliss. But no...I'm here writing about my feelings, making it public and even baking cookies to stave off that temptation. How easy it would be to give in, but to what purpose? Nothing good would come of it, my exasperatingly practical mind whispers...might as well move on with life.
I have a couple project still due for school, and that interview for another job on campus to look forward to. There are other things that are worth getting up and showering for like my cat, or cafes with great music. My family will support me, and I will go on as unfailingly sensible as always.
China will be that experience I'll remember more than I can talk about, an experience of feelings I can't exactly completely share and a place that will hold a new meaning for me. The time I spent there will be unparallelled with any other place and my mind is forever altered.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Days Left: 3
On the third day in China, I was mulling over the enormous fact that I was thousands of miles away from home, with a mind blowing amount of time before I would return. Around the third day was when we finally ventured out of the apartment to find food, since we had not been taken grocery shopping, and had only eaten Tricia's birthday cake for sustenance. We made the arduous trek of crossing the main road, to Bellagio, the Thai place, where we hacked our way through ordering food and drinks with our 8 hours of Chinese. The experience was stilted, embarrassing and slightly painful but we got our food and showed us that we could survive this place. Probably.
It is now three days until I go home, and all the memories of our first few weeks here are surfacing. The first time I went to Victory Plaza and interlaced my fingers with a girl, or the first time I saw someone wearing a blouse so sheer the brand of her bra was visible and it was considered fashionable, and then there was the first time we shopped at Carrefour and had a anxiety attack... These memories have stuck, and I feel will stick to me for a long time. I feel a sort of symmetry in posting three days until I go back. Like the journey couldn't been completed without a summing up of the moment at the three day mark.
Today we hit the Dalian market for some more shopping,and had a different experience than the crowded, airless underground of Victory Plaza. Instead its a crowded airless warehouse, with sketchier floors, vendors and elevators. However, the quality is better and if you're in need of some really touristy things like pendants or red silk hangings, its definitely the place to shop at. We wandered around for a couple hours, but didn't find the traditional Chinese dresses that my roommate was looking for. After being somewhat defeated by the general chaos and lack of our target purchase item, we hailed a taxi and headed back home. For some reason taxi drivers, once they find out we're American, love to point out the fact that our president is Obama. After saying his name three or four times, I assume they're asking me something about him, and normally I just repeat his name back until they give up. This works really well actually for most interactions, just repeat the last word they say and eventually the funniness wears off and they stop asking questions. It sounds a lot worse put that way, but its incredibly stressful carrying out a conversation anyway- let alone one of touchy natures like politics or quality of clothing.
Normally the good ol' smile and nod comes in handy, and if you throw in a "pengyou" or friend, you get by just fine.
Tonight we ate, for the last time, at our favorite Indian restaurant, Abashi. I ordered my usual butter chicken with a bicycle seat sized naan bread and enjoyed the heck out of it. I will miss the easy access to cheap transportation and food. A taxi is around 8 RMB to a place nearby, which is not even a buck fifty. The chicken and naan together was eight bucks, and I was full when we left. Tomorrow is tea in Lobby Lounge, lunch at Bellagio for our rounding out of experience and dinner wherever we decide ourselves. The last night, on Tuesday, we said we're gonna have one more meal at iCafe and pig out on just desserts. (However most likely we'll eat our favorites like the noodle soup/dumplings/sushi too).
I can't believe I won't have these places to go to any more. Eating out is so easy here I might have a difficult time adjusting back to buying groceries again! I can see why city living is desirable now, access to cafes nearby, or restaurants that you don't need a car to get to is quite convenient and nice.
Our flight from Dalian to Shanghai is at 7.55 am, so we're leaving Shangri-la at 5ish. This means our real last day is Tuesday, and since its the 11th, that means its only a couple days til I'm flying home. Yes, thank you for asking, I am mostly packed already. Do I have enough room for all my stuff? Yeahh...I think so. Although I'm a little worried about the weight limits, and I don't know how I acquired so many more shoes. Maybe its the same amount as before, but I feel like I have more shoes than clothes or other necessities. Needless to say my bag is no longer a mere 35 pounds. We have a 14 hour flight to NYC, then a 6 hour layover until we fly into Indy. I'm gonna have some time on my hands, and no excuse to not do my internship papers or other required reports. I can't believe its almost time to go home now. Can't say it went by quickly, but I can say it was unexpectedly sooner than I originally thought....
Also, my roommates have made me into a sorta grownup person...I have a grownup purse, some shoes and now a fashionable coat with a matching scarf...I don't even know who I am anymore!
It is now three days until I go home, and all the memories of our first few weeks here are surfacing. The first time I went to Victory Plaza and interlaced my fingers with a girl, or the first time I saw someone wearing a blouse so sheer the brand of her bra was visible and it was considered fashionable, and then there was the first time we shopped at Carrefour and had a anxiety attack... These memories have stuck, and I feel will stick to me for a long time. I feel a sort of symmetry in posting three days until I go back. Like the journey couldn't been completed without a summing up of the moment at the three day mark.
Today we hit the Dalian market for some more shopping,and had a different experience than the crowded, airless underground of Victory Plaza. Instead its a crowded airless warehouse, with sketchier floors, vendors and elevators. However, the quality is better and if you're in need of some really touristy things like pendants or red silk hangings, its definitely the place to shop at. We wandered around for a couple hours, but didn't find the traditional Chinese dresses that my roommate was looking for. After being somewhat defeated by the general chaos and lack of our target purchase item, we hailed a taxi and headed back home. For some reason taxi drivers, once they find out we're American, love to point out the fact that our president is Obama. After saying his name three or four times, I assume they're asking me something about him, and normally I just repeat his name back until they give up. This works really well actually for most interactions, just repeat the last word they say and eventually the funniness wears off and they stop asking questions. It sounds a lot worse put that way, but its incredibly stressful carrying out a conversation anyway- let alone one of touchy natures like politics or quality of clothing.
Normally the good ol' smile and nod comes in handy, and if you throw in a "pengyou" or friend, you get by just fine.
Tonight we ate, for the last time, at our favorite Indian restaurant, Abashi. I ordered my usual butter chicken with a bicycle seat sized naan bread and enjoyed the heck out of it. I will miss the easy access to cheap transportation and food. A taxi is around 8 RMB to a place nearby, which is not even a buck fifty. The chicken and naan together was eight bucks, and I was full when we left. Tomorrow is tea in Lobby Lounge, lunch at Bellagio for our rounding out of experience and dinner wherever we decide ourselves. The last night, on Tuesday, we said we're gonna have one more meal at iCafe and pig out on just desserts. (However most likely we'll eat our favorites like the noodle soup/dumplings/sushi too).
I can't believe I won't have these places to go to any more. Eating out is so easy here I might have a difficult time adjusting back to buying groceries again! I can see why city living is desirable now, access to cafes nearby, or restaurants that you don't need a car to get to is quite convenient and nice.
Our flight from Dalian to Shanghai is at 7.55 am, so we're leaving Shangri-la at 5ish. This means our real last day is Tuesday, and since its the 11th, that means its only a couple days til I'm flying home. Yes, thank you for asking, I am mostly packed already. Do I have enough room for all my stuff? Yeahh...I think so. Although I'm a little worried about the weight limits, and I don't know how I acquired so many more shoes. Maybe its the same amount as before, but I feel like I have more shoes than clothes or other necessities. Needless to say my bag is no longer a mere 35 pounds. We have a 14 hour flight to NYC, then a 6 hour layover until we fly into Indy. I'm gonna have some time on my hands, and no excuse to not do my internship papers or other required reports. I can't believe its almost time to go home now. Can't say it went by quickly, but I can say it was unexpectedly sooner than I originally thought....
Also, my roommates have made me into a sorta grownup person...I have a grownup purse, some shoes and now a fashionable coat with a matching scarf...I don't even know who I am anymore!
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Chapter 6: F2
Monday through Wednesday was indeed quite busy, and I must say I had a rollicking time running around serving drinks, taking orders and yuckin it up with the guests. I've never seen so many foreigners all in one place, here in Shangri-La and it was amazing how quickly I could ease back into chatting freely with people. I've missed that interaction after my iCafe rotation was over. Most of my guests were not English speaking, or at least not fluent. It was a relief to have those interactions, jokes and stories after the lack of it over the past few months. I had my "regulars" and we were all on first name basis from day one, just as friendly as can be! Seeing familiar faces every night made everything more fun, and I am so glad the convention fell during my rotation at F2. A lot of the people I've met in the past few weeks really have made the time fly by, and I feel like without them it'd be a miserable wait. I'm thankful for the distraction. I was surrounded by Canadians, Scottish, Danish, Russians, Spanish and other miscellaneous types of people. I must say that its awesome how different each culture is, but teasing and joking really brings everyone together. We had a booth of almost every nationality from above and despite occasional language barriers it was barrels o' laughs. I'm just excited I got to meet that many different kinds of people all at once too, and get a firsthand comparison to all their behaviors. I think traveling for work is in my future, especially after seeing what it's like to meet all kinds of people that like.
Really, its quite amazing now how soon I'll be home, and I can't hardly wait to touch American ground again and see my family. These past two weeks have yielded such a shift in my thinking, that I think I'm gonna need some time to really mull it all over and process it fully when I'm home.
Today is my last Thursday in Dalian, yesterday was my last day in F2, and I'm wrapping up work with a little updating of the SOP's and not much else. Tomorrow is a half day of learning stewarding (not washing dishes thankfully, just learning about breakage control and costs) and then I'm done with work! I am completely free for the next four days, and my roommates and I have big plans for our last hurrah's here.
F2 was an interesting rotation...my main job was guest interactions, and I didn't get much chance to learn actual bar "stuff". I learned a few drinks, how to promote events, controlling liquor costs and ordering...other than that...not much to say. I am glad it was my "last" real rotation, and that my time at the end was so busy. Time flew by and here I am now, all 6 rotations done, and my internship coming to a sudden yet agreeable close.
Chapter 6: F2 Bar, closed.
I'm so full of stories now, I'm surprised I'm not leather bound and do not smell of rich mahogany.
Really, its quite amazing now how soon I'll be home, and I can't hardly wait to touch American ground again and see my family. These past two weeks have yielded such a shift in my thinking, that I think I'm gonna need some time to really mull it all over and process it fully when I'm home.
Today is my last Thursday in Dalian, yesterday was my last day in F2, and I'm wrapping up work with a little updating of the SOP's and not much else. Tomorrow is a half day of learning stewarding (not washing dishes thankfully, just learning about breakage control and costs) and then I'm done with work! I am completely free for the next four days, and my roommates and I have big plans for our last hurrah's here.
F2 was an interesting rotation...my main job was guest interactions, and I didn't get much chance to learn actual bar "stuff". I learned a few drinks, how to promote events, controlling liquor costs and ordering...other than that...not much to say. I am glad it was my "last" real rotation, and that my time at the end was so busy. Time flew by and here I am now, all 6 rotations done, and my internship coming to a sudden yet agreeable close.
Chapter 6: F2 Bar, closed.
I'm so full of stories now, I'm surprised I'm not leather bound and do not smell of rich mahogany.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
A Little Taste of Home.
For some reason I couldn't sleep past 5.30 this morning, so I'm sipping on Emergen-C, listening to great music and of course, pondering on life. The city lurks outside my window, looking cold and forlorn on this cloudy morning. Yesterday was also cold and the light drizzle turned into a soaking and chilling rain in which I had the pleasure of walking home in.
After an exhaustive search for jade, and wandering around Victory Plaza for hours I gave into the fact that I will never understand or like shopping at that market. Its a labyrinth of stalls, each one packed with clothes, shoes, belts, suitcases, even stuffed animals...and the merchandise looks all the same after a while. I mentioned before how incredibly overwhelming shopping is for me, but add in me trying to guide someone else around and you'll get a slightly less polite, more apt for cursing Ann. I'm not proud of my reactions. I blame VP for bringing out the worst in me. We walked around trying to find jade souvenirs, or even just little statues to no avail. I was of no use, and most of the time we wandered around, me sweating in the airless underground floors looking wide eyed at other shoppers, hoping they'd guess what I needed and just give it to me.
Yes I asked for help, and everyone pointed me in a vague direction followed by rapid-fire Chinese that I couldn't hope to understand. You'd think I'd be used to that by now. Actually when people speak any Chinese to me now, I cringe less and can normally pick out a thread of the conversation. Give me another 6 months and I think I'd be able to have a passable conversation!
(That's not an actual request. If I was slotted to stay another 6 months, I think drastic measures would be in order...like getting a Chinese character tattoo and wearing pantyhose all the time...which is the worst possible scenario I can think of)
On Saturday, we had the joy of eating lunch at a couples apartment. Angelica and Zilton were guests at Shangri-La when I was in Nishimura and they were incredibly friendly and sweet. At one point they invited us all to eat with them, and they followed through by having us over for a wonderful home cooked meal, which we happily accepted. We took a taxi out to the area were they live, which was upscale and oh so quiet! No construction! Hardly any traffic...it was bliss.
She made chicken, a fresh salad (without bitter greens!) homemade mashed potatoes, and followed up with pumpkin pie, brownies and ice cream. I admit my eyes watered a little more than normal. It felt like we were so close to home, and miles away from China. Their apartment was spacious and homey, and we felt so welcomed and appreciated. They served us like family, talked with us about our experience here, and insisted that we leave our information so we could stay in touch. How sweet to have people like this, to welcome us so warmly and get a taste of home.
Home seems such a mythical place, a enfolding cloud of magic and love that no matter how dull, exciting, or even fraught with family drama...is a place to rest.
I'm sure I've built up the experience in my mind of how going home will be, and most likely my actual experience will be a lot less dramatic...but the image of my house getting closer and closer calms me, and makes the world take on a pleasant haze around it.
This week should be fairly busy as we're hosting the fisherman's exhibition, at full capacity, for three days. On Friday night I met a group of very cool Scottish fishermen and by the end we were swapping war stories and jokes. I expect to be pretty busy tonight, and mostly because the group is mainly foreigners. Hopefully we won't be overrun as the bar tends to be unprepared for crowds over 20. Yes...anything over 15 is a crowd. It's fun though, working there, and the uniform is relaxed enough to be comfortable. I have one confession to make, and I know this will change your opinion of me forever...in advance I apologize for dropping this on you unexpectedly but....I wear tights under my jean shorts, with my Chucks...tights like pantyhose tights...and....*cough* I don't hate it. Will I bring back this fashion statement to America?- Heck yea--I mean no way! That would be ridiculous. Right? I mean...gross. Pantyhose and jeans don't mix.
Its a requirement to wear black and white, but the type of clothing doesn't matter. I can't wear jeans, so I'm forced to used tights. This is my excuse/justification.
They are not comfy, nor do I enjoy wrestling to put them on...but as far as cool factor...*sigh*
What is happening to me??
Since I'm up, I might grab an early breakfast, and get a head start on my day. It's a good day for movies and blankets.
Have a great day, go forth and be happy!
After an exhaustive search for jade, and wandering around Victory Plaza for hours I gave into the fact that I will never understand or like shopping at that market. Its a labyrinth of stalls, each one packed with clothes, shoes, belts, suitcases, even stuffed animals...and the merchandise looks all the same after a while. I mentioned before how incredibly overwhelming shopping is for me, but add in me trying to guide someone else around and you'll get a slightly less polite, more apt for cursing Ann. I'm not proud of my reactions. I blame VP for bringing out the worst in me. We walked around trying to find jade souvenirs, or even just little statues to no avail. I was of no use, and most of the time we wandered around, me sweating in the airless underground floors looking wide eyed at other shoppers, hoping they'd guess what I needed and just give it to me.
Yes I asked for help, and everyone pointed me in a vague direction followed by rapid-fire Chinese that I couldn't hope to understand. You'd think I'd be used to that by now. Actually when people speak any Chinese to me now, I cringe less and can normally pick out a thread of the conversation. Give me another 6 months and I think I'd be able to have a passable conversation!
(That's not an actual request. If I was slotted to stay another 6 months, I think drastic measures would be in order...like getting a Chinese character tattoo and wearing pantyhose all the time...which is the worst possible scenario I can think of)
On Saturday, we had the joy of eating lunch at a couples apartment. Angelica and Zilton were guests at Shangri-La when I was in Nishimura and they were incredibly friendly and sweet. At one point they invited us all to eat with them, and they followed through by having us over for a wonderful home cooked meal, which we happily accepted. We took a taxi out to the area were they live, which was upscale and oh so quiet! No construction! Hardly any traffic...it was bliss.
She made chicken, a fresh salad (without bitter greens!) homemade mashed potatoes, and followed up with pumpkin pie, brownies and ice cream. I admit my eyes watered a little more than normal. It felt like we were so close to home, and miles away from China. Their apartment was spacious and homey, and we felt so welcomed and appreciated. They served us like family, talked with us about our experience here, and insisted that we leave our information so we could stay in touch. How sweet to have people like this, to welcome us so warmly and get a taste of home.
Home seems such a mythical place, a enfolding cloud of magic and love that no matter how dull, exciting, or even fraught with family drama...is a place to rest.
I'm sure I've built up the experience in my mind of how going home will be, and most likely my actual experience will be a lot less dramatic...but the image of my house getting closer and closer calms me, and makes the world take on a pleasant haze around it.
This week should be fairly busy as we're hosting the fisherman's exhibition, at full capacity, for three days. On Friday night I met a group of very cool Scottish fishermen and by the end we were swapping war stories and jokes. I expect to be pretty busy tonight, and mostly because the group is mainly foreigners. Hopefully we won't be overrun as the bar tends to be unprepared for crowds over 20. Yes...anything over 15 is a crowd. It's fun though, working there, and the uniform is relaxed enough to be comfortable. I have one confession to make, and I know this will change your opinion of me forever...in advance I apologize for dropping this on you unexpectedly but....I wear tights under my jean shorts, with my Chucks...tights like pantyhose tights...and....*cough* I don't hate it. Will I bring back this fashion statement to America?- Heck yea--I mean no way! That would be ridiculous. Right? I mean...gross. Pantyhose and jeans don't mix.
Its a requirement to wear black and white, but the type of clothing doesn't matter. I can't wear jeans, so I'm forced to used tights. This is my excuse/justification.
They are not comfy, nor do I enjoy wrestling to put them on...but as far as cool factor...*sigh*
What is happening to me??
Since I'm up, I might grab an early breakfast, and get a head start on my day. It's a good day for movies and blankets.
Have a great day, go forth and be happy!
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