Wild Ponies Are Born to Run

So I still haven't started the new job yet - in fact, I don't know if I even have the new job yet. haha  I interviewed and it went really well, but it's been nearly two weeks and I haven't gotten an offer yet.  SO, I'm being patient and trying to enjoy this time while I have it. 

I also have to admit - I'm getting cold feet about starting again. I know, I know - it's ridiculous.  BUT, I love writing the stories I write now in the south Charlotte area and the idea of having a full-time job with only two weeks off a year absolutely terrifies me.  I feel claustrophobic just thinking about it.  I've never had a summer where I didn't travel - ever - in 24 years of existence.  The weather gets warm, and I jet.  It's just the way it is.  (Not that I don't jet a lot of other times too, but, it's the most jet-conducive time). 

However, I know I get cold feet before a lot of new adventures.  I'm not big on change - at least, not at first.  Heck, before I left for my 6 months in Europe - I was freaking terrified!  (Of course I couldn't let anyone know that, but I was).  And then, leaving my flat in London and jetting off to Greece - absolutely alone in a country whose language I didn't speak and where I'd never stepped foot before?  Yup, shaking in my boots.  But you know what?  Those were the greatest adventures of my life.  So there must be something to that whole "The things you're afraid of are usually the most worthwhile" (thank you Chasing Liberty for that inspired quote).

The question is perhaps if this is the same kind of fear.  Tackling a new area of Charlotte - yes, that is that kind of fear - the fear of the unknown.  The fear of how I'll handle a new situation.  But the fear of being cloistered and restrained - like a wild pony trapped behind fences - that fear may be different.  That fear may be justified.

And then I have the voices of those older folks in my head.  I can see them now, shaking their chins at me and saying "You've got to earn your right to travel.  You've got to suffer in the dregs before you can climb the mountains."  Etc.  And maybe that's where my generation is different.  I'm not sure if we're just arrogant and spoiled or really see something that our parents didn't - the prospect of making money and being true to yourself at the same time.  The idea that you can love your job.  The idea that gratification doesn't have to wait until you are nearly too old to enjoy it. 

But back to my personal dilemma - I LOVE writing for the newspaper.  There is no doubt.  The question is can I stay content there if I only have two weeks in the whole year to do my other chief passion.  Probably not.  However, I am willing to give it a try and put in some time so that one day, hopefully, I can do both.  If I could travel and write (be it as a travel writer, a novelist or something different), I will gladly put in a few years a bit restrained now.  But I will not put in 50. 

Also, the idea of writing about cultures - people and their stories and their lives - has quite fascinated me as of late.  I really want to go to England and interview WWII survivors.  The ones who fought and the ones who stayed at home.  I want to compile a book about their experiences.  Especially the ones on the home front - because as an American, it is unimaginable to me what those at home went through.  How women had to not only be EMTs and nurses and factory workers, but also had to send their children to live with strangers and navigate the streets without street signs or maps.  How they had to dive into dark, underground tunnels while their homes were being bombed around them.  

And I want to do this while they're still alive.  But that opportunity is fading fast.  And honestly, if I stay here just a few more years, I believe I'll have lost it.  That was something I was going to apply to do under the Fulbright Scholarship if I returned to school to get a masters in creative writing.  But now....

Well, I'll stop making myself sad and go to bed.  I'll leave all this in God's hands - He knows where I should be and what I should be doing.  In Him I place all faith.

A Reflection of Our Time

Swinging from a tree at Maclay.

Dad and I went to Florida again recently.  This time to Tallahassee to see my grandmother and brother who came down from Auburn for his spring break. 

It was really good to see both of them - it felt like a long time - and the weather was lovely.  We went to Maclay Gardens right near grandma's house and walked through some canopied trails one day.  The next day we went to Wakula Springs and saw tons of beautiful birds and scary looking alligators in the water.  We also saw two manatees!  That was quite exciting because they aren't supposed to be in water below 70 degrees, and Wakula is 68 degrees all year long since it is spring fed. 

In other news, it looks like I'm getting a real position at the paper - with benefits and everything.  Unfortunately, I'll be covering the Lake Norman area which is a good hour from my house; however, I'm hoping that I can schedule the interviews I do up there back to back and thus only have to be up there about 2 days a week.  I can write from home as well, so hopefully that will help counter the gas expenses.  I can't believe I just paid $3.49 a gallon to fill up my car - in SC!  Here in Charlotte it's nearly $4! 

Canopied trails in Maclay

Today it crossed my mind how different the world will be by the time I have grown children.  Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't almost be a disservice to have children in this day and age.  The tsunami footage coming from Japan is horrific - and it's only one of many, many natural disasters that have multiplied tenfold in the last decade.  Here in the USA, I'm not sure if we'll be able to afford gas for our cars in the future - though I guess by then they'll have come up with something different.  It struck me as sad that my kids might not be able to get the experience of driving around the country.  Perhaps that's just pessimistic thoughts though. 

An egret.

 But what about Venice and the Outer Banks?  Will they still be there when my kids are my age?  Both are slowly receding beneath the sea.  What about the little delis and bakeries in Europe?  Will the massive super markets finally put them out of business, just as they've done here?

I know I shouldn't think about these things.  They really are just passing fears that I quickly push back on the shelf.  This just happens to be a forum where I can dig them out, sort them through my fingers, and then, realizing there is nothing I can do about them, shove them back on the shelf. 

Manatees.

One of my biggest fears?  Technology.  I know, I know - everyone else thinks the iPhone is the best thing since sliced bread and if you go somewhere without wifi it's the end of the world.  Even today I caught myself thinking, "Perhaps with my new job it would behoove me to get an internet phone."  I almost slapped myself for such blasphemy.  lol  But the thing is, this "connecting" technology is also driving us apart.  It is taking us away from the present.  From what is in front of us - from what matters.  It is making us believe that a virtual world is just as important as the one in front of us.  But how can you compare such 'advances' to the grandeur of God's creation?  To the Redwoods and the canyons, to the mountains and the beaches.  To the great architectural feats of cities like Paris, Athens and Rome.  And how come I feel like I am the only one who does not see why these things are so much more important than the new things we've created to take their place? 

Logically, I know I am not the only one - but among my peers, it strikes me often that I am "other."  I am on the outside looking in.  Or perhaps on the outside looking back.  Longing for what was. 

A beautiful Anhinga bird.

It is the reason why the European countries so impressed me.  Their appreciation of history.  Their love for long talks (in person) over good food (which they take the time to savor) in beautiful places (like below the acropolis where they periodically look up in awe).  I hate that America is trying to change them into people and societies just like ours.  How they are being forced to work longer hours to compete with Americans who commit 80 hours a week to a thankless job, then come home to a household that barely knows them.  Yet this train is full speed ahead with no brakes in sight.  How can it be stopped?  I don't think it can, yet I pray that it will. 

With Brett - he's trying to keep his eyes open. lol

Giant Alligator

I suppose all of this is neither here nor there.  Just what came out of my fingers tonight as I type.  I'm probably too tired to make much sense. 

Where did 24 years just go?

The Bradford pear trees - in bloom the week of my bday.

Tuesday was my 24th birthday.  And guess what?  I found a white hair!  (At least, I think it was...or maybe it was just really really blond - yes, I think I'll stick with that reasoning).  Either way, it was strange knowing that I've the age my grandmother was when she had three kids.  Two years older than my mother when she got married.  And at least 1/4 through my life. 

I never thought the prospect of aging would phase me.  But recently, every line I occasionally see on my face - when I'm tired or squinting - I start to think "Oh long before that is permanently visible?"  It's not so much the idea that I want to always be young and would rush to the plastic surgeon for botox, but it's the idea of unrelenting time.  The way it rushes by and you can't hold it back - not even for one single second.  The way I study my face in the mirror and think "How has it changed in the last 10 years?  How will it change in the next?" 

A b-day dinner at Kabuto with some friends.

But there are wonderful things about the idea of being older.  The older you get, the more seriously people will take you.  I've never liked being treated like a child - perhaps because I grew up surrounded by adult family members who always treated me like an equal in conversation and decisions (even if I, in fact, was not). 

There is also being happier with my skin, embracing my paleness, being thankful for my lack of freckles compared to so many of my peers.  And the older you get, the more you are aware of your body.  How your muscles react to dancing or working out.  The best pants for your body type.  The sorts of things that never cross children's minds. 

In my mind, I feel happier than I've ever been.  While I can't pinpoint the moments, I can say look back over the last six years and see how much I've grown.  My outlook on life has entirely shifted.  My mind has broadened.  The desire for wealth has taken a back seat to the desire for happiness.   I wonder if that is normal?  In many ways, it seems that as children grow up the desire for wealth is what surpasses the desire for happiness.  For me, it was the other way around. 

In high school I always assumed I'd do a job where I worked hard, did not love, but which I made a lot of money from.  Slowly, in college, I realized doing something you loved was worth so much more than money.  That perspective was validated when traveling Europe and seeing the way people lived for life, not lived for work.  I've never met so many joyful, contented people - especially in Greece, Italy and Spain.  The way they interacted with each other, placed so much value on human interactions and appreciation of life to the fullest - I came home a new woman (perhaps to the chagrin of my family whose ambitions for me have always been high). 

The "smushed banana" cake for my b-day with cousins Sydney and Camryn helping out.

But now, in my 24th year, I am doing something I love with my entire soul - I'm writing.  And, with this recent layoff, I'm traveling.  In future, I hope to combine writing and traveling - to somehow make a career out of both. 

South Florida Kayaking Vacation

I left work at 4 p.m. to head over to Drew's place, jump in his truck with George and drive to Florida.  But as I was walking out of the newsroom, everyone started clapping.  I was given my first ever "clap out."  And it suddenly hit me.  My eyes were red and full as I waited for the elevator and the girl from the the magazines department also waiting stared at her feet nervously.  We didn't know each other and she wasn't about to ask why I looked on the verge of a breakdown.

A few deep breaths and some fresh air later, I pulled myself together.  I walked awkwardly to my car with a huge bag of my desk possessions, the vase and flower from Elizabeth at work, chocolates from June and all the photos I'd had taped around my desk.  Luckily, the day was beautiful with sunshine and a warm breeze.  By the time I made it to Drew's, I was feeling much better.

We left for Florida a little after 5.  Drew needed to do some work on his iPhone and George hadn't slept in 2 days, so I drove the entire way to Jacksonville where we stayed with another Charlotte ONE friend, Kyle.  He was very nice to put us up so last minute, especially since we didn't get there until after midnight.  The boys took the long L-shaped couch, and I got the guest bedroom, because I'm the girl. :)

With the sunset at Matlacha.

The next morning Drew drove us to breakfast at Waffle House and the three of us remarked that it was the nicest Waffle House we'd ever seen.  All the cooks and waitresses looked like our grandmothers.  When we left, I drove the rest of the way to Cape Coral, FL where Drew needed to meet with one of his kayak suppliers (he's a kayak fisherman and designer of the Coosa kayak which is sold at many different outdoor stores).  It was going to take him a couple hours to do what he needed to do there, so George and I took the car over to Matlacha Island which is like a little hippie town with crazy colored buildings that sell unique jewelry, artwork and best of all, homemade ice cream.

On our way back to get Drew, we stopped at the edge off a lake or bay and watched the sunset.  It was so beautiful and made a perfect ending to our first day in Florida.

George with the sunset near Matlacha.

Drew drove the last 1.5 hrs to the Port of the Islands resort in the Everglades.  They were supposed to provide us and the rest of Drew's fishing crew who met us there with free stay at the resort which is in a perfect location for kayak fishing but there ending up being a confusion and they were all booked up.  Instead, they put us up in a Fairfield Inn about 20 min away and gave us 3 free meals at their resort.  That night we used our first meal.  I had mahi-mahi and it was absolutely amazing.  Everyone thoroughly enjoyed our meal and we didn't get back to our hotel until about 11 p.m.

The fishing crew consisted of Drew; the Jackson Kayak marketing director James from Canada; Ben from Louisiana; Damon from Vermont and his dad Al from Savannah.  Later another Ben and a girl named Sarah joined.  My role was to be the journalist/photographer and George's was to help out with anything they needed and to keep me company. lol

On the Naples beach.

On Saturday, Drew had to run some errands in Ft. Myers, so he dropped Geroge and me off at the beach in Naples.  It was soooo beautiful.  The sand was so white and the water was a beautiful blue-green.  You could tell that we were in FL though because hardly anyone was in the water.  It was too cold for native Floridians. lol  George and I got in after a while in the warm sun.  Then we ran a mile on the beach barefoot, and then the water felt amazing.  Our legs, however, suffered for that run for the next three days. lol  Even though I run a mile almost every day, running in wet sand is completely different and muscles I didn't know I had were achy.

Drew picked us up about 3 hours later and we went back to the hotel and changed.  Then the three of us drove back to the Port of the Islands resort where George hung out by the pool there, and Drew and I drove to Everglades City where we found a little channel to put some kayaks in the water and paddle around for an hour before dark.

We practically got eaten alive by mosquitoes on the bank while preparing the kayaks to go in the water.  Once on the water, however, they weren't quite as bad.  Drew says they don't usually hang out above the water because they are likely to get eaten by fish or frogs or something.  Personally, I was more worried about alligators.   I know they spook easily, but I still don't think seeing one up close and personal from a little kayak would be a pleasurable experience.

Kayaking for the first time w/Drew in the Everglades.

Luckily, we saw a few birds, but that was about it.  Drew didn't have much luck fishing, but we both enjoyed seeing the mangroves and testing out his kayak.  One of the unique features about his Coosa is that you can stand up on it so you have a better view of the water around you and you can cast your line easier.  I stood up once, but  when I tried to sit down, the boat got a little shaky, so I stayed seated after that.

We picked up George just at dark and then went back to the Fairfield where we met up with James and Ben.  The five of us went to a Mexican restaurant nearby for dinner.

On Sunday, Drew went fishing with the crew and left George and me his truck.  George and I drove to Ft. Lauderdale across Alligator Ally to see my Uncle John.  And can you believe it - we didn't see one alligator!

When we got to Uncle John's, we chatted a bit and then he took us to a little park where a boardwalk goes through mangroves and ends in an area where you can picnic or play sports.  After that he drove us up A1A, the beachfront avenue to see the beach and all the people and shops and hotels.  By then we were getting hungry so we went to Shooters, a restaurant on a wide channel right by the ocean.  We all had mahi-mahi sandwiches and it was delicious.

We still had an hour left on our parking meter, so we walked the 2 blocks to the beach and George and I took off our shoes and waded around while Uncle John sat on the beach and enjoyed the day.  The whole time we've been here the high has been about 80 with a breeze - absolutely perfect weather.

As we were walking through the pristine water, George said, "Man, for a second there I completely forgot we were on a fishing trip with Drew."  It was just one of those days - a transportation to a different time and place.

When we were done, we came back to Uncle John's and both guys took naps while I worked on the computer.  Then my mom's best friend from her college days, Sarah, called to say that she and her husband Ben would be back in Hollywood, FL soon and that we should come down to all do dinner together.  We met them at their place around 6 and drove to Hollywood beach where we walked along the beachfront pedestrian road and talked as the sun went down and lights came on.  I took pictures of all of us together and after walking for some distance, we turned back to find a place to eat.  Right before we went to this amazing Turkish place for dinner, we stopped by the public restrooms in a beachfront park.

At the restaurant I had a gyro that reminded me of Greece, which I miss nearly every day.  Then we went to a souvenir shop for George to get some things for friends.

Once we returned to Sarah's it was already after 9 so we said our goodbyes and returned to Uncle John's and George and I left about 10 p.m. to drive back to Naples.  On the car ride back we both discussed what a great day it had been.  I was feeling so happy and light.  But that changed when we got back.  George went down to use the hotel computers and I started unpacking my purse as I looked for my camera to upload the photos.  The camera was nowhere to be found and I knew instantly that I had lost it.  I called Uncle John, and he didn't have it anywhere.  I e-mailed Sarah, but I was sure that I had not left it in her car.  The more i thought about it the more sure I was of its whereabouts.  I'd left it on the back of that bathroom door in the park on Hollywood beach.

When George got back to the room, I was sitting on the floor with the contents of my purse spread around me, my face in my hands, tears rolling off my chin.  He tried to be positive "Oh it's prob. in someone's car" etc., but I knew.  I just knew.  Plus, there are only 3 other people who really know how much that camera means to me.  Enrique, Carmen and Theresa - my three foreign friends who went on the cross country road trip with me last summer.  They knew how much I loved that camera and thus started referring to it as "my baby."  And now, "my baby" and all my pictures from the last few months are in some stranger's hands.  It's almost like an invasion of privacy - they know what I look like, who my friends are, what events I've been to lately.  It's an icky feeling.

I'd like to think that if my name and number were on the camera that someone would have tried to return it.  Though it's unlikely - particularly in south Florida.  But they weren't, so either way it is gone and I will have to buy a new camera at some point.  (And yes, I tried calling the restaurant and souvenir shop to no avail.)

A cool bird by the docks at Cape Coral.

On Monday Drew had to take his car and thus, George and I were stuck at the Fairfield which is not within walking distance to anything except their small pool in front of the hotel.  It was a bad day to have nothing to do since I was in a little funk from losing my camera and wanted to get my mind off it.  But we laid out, swam in the pool and watched "Hitch" on tv.  Finally Drew got back and we all went to dinner at Port of the Islands again.  This time, I had salmon, which was also quite delicious.  Key lime pie for dessert made me especially happy - key lime pie is just not the same anywhere else. 

On Tuesday we had to get up very early - 6:15 a.m. - in order to eat breakfast and leave for Cape Coral by 7 a.m.  We were moving to the VillageMarina Resort up in Cape Coral (owned by the same company as Port of the Islands) in hopes that the fishing would be better than what the crew was finding in the everglades.  We arrived at the VillageMarina marina at 8 a.m. and waited around for the fog to lift.  It was an eerie sight - the fog hung really low over the water and everything had a muted feel.  Some resort staff that set up the free stay for us took George and I on a speed boat while Drew, James, Damon and Al kayaked out.  I had Drew's awesome camera and took photos of them fishing as the boat slowly idled in front of them.  The fog was still present, though just starting to lift by the time we got out there.  It gave all the photos a diffused glow and soft box effect.

Drew and some of his fishing friends.

When the kayakers went down a shallow channel that we couldn't follow, we boated over to where they would come out and just enjoyed the sun and talked.  Michelle, the marketing director for the resort chain, was a lot of fun and we all had a good time.  Finally, the fog lifted all the way and we could fully appreciate the beauty around us.  A bay led to the gulf in one direction, and mangroves surrounded a huge sand bar right were the kayakers were about to emerge.

We decided the photos would be best if we could get out and walk on the sandbar to get photos of them, so we anchored the boat right by the sandbar and got out.  The water ranged from ankle deep to right below the knee, and it was crystal clear.  We were told to watch out for stingrays, but it would have been easy to spot them if they were there.  After a bunch of photos, those of us who were on the speed boat got to try out the kayaks in turn.  I got much better at standing on the Coosa and even standing while paddling.  I could see why the ability to stand was so important for a fisherman - you could see so clearly where the fish were, especially in this beautiful water.

Drew fishing.

After all the videos and photos were done, Michelle and the other resort staffers took George and me back to the marina.  Michelle hooked us up with two 3 bedroom suites and brought George and me to  the one we'd be sharing with Drew.  It was seriously the most amazing hotel I've ever seen with my own eyes.  We had a full kitchen with stainless steel appliances, a big dining room table, a full living room, a screened in balcony that could be accessed from the living room or 2 of the bedrooms, a master bedroom with a king bed and a closet that you could sleep in and a bathroom bigger than my room at home (that is the room I got), a second bedroom and bath with 2 double beds where George occupied, and a 3rd bedroom with another king and full bath.  There were more closets and linen closets than I think we have in our whole house in Charlotte.  Every counter had granite counter tops and tile covered every floor except the bedrooms.  It was certainly bigger than the house we had in Miami.

A tiny crab on a leaf that George found and I photographed.

Anyway, I tried to keep my jaw from dropping as Michelle showed us around.  We were on the 5th floor and the view from the patio was amazing  - the pool, marina, harbor and beyond.  You could see dolphin fins splashing in the bay.

After relaxing a bit, George and I went and checked out the place  They had a huge slightly heated pool, a hot tub, a little "village" with shops and a spa, ping pong, free bike rentals, a huge exercise room, a business center with computers, a free water taxi to take you to Ft. Myers beach most days....yeah, it was just ridiculous. 

We hung out by the pool for a while and used a coupon that was in our welcome package to get a buy one get one free gelato.  Since George and I had been in Ft. Lauderdale for one of our comped meals at the first hotel, we'd asked Michelle if we could have a comped meal here.  She agreed and put $50 credit on our room card.  We ate at the restaurant downstairs that night.  I had mahi-mahi again, and yes, it was again amazing.  lol  I figure, if you're eating at nice restaurants like this for free in south Florida, you should always get fish.  George had steak.

After dinner, George took a nap and I read and watched Glee while all the fishing crew went back to Naples to get their stuff to come back to the resort in Cape Coral and stay here.  (Originally, just George and I were going to stay since we were leaving from the Ft. Myers airport on Wed - but when the others saw the new place and were given the chance to stay here for free, they took it).  At about 9 George and I went to the hot tube and met a Canadian couple and a couple from Minnesota who talked about sailing nearly the whole time.  lol

the clear water of the sand shoal in Cape Coral, Fla.

Finally, we went up and I was just about to go to bed when Drew got back.  The next morning George and I were to go out kayaking with Drew and James to get some good footage for a different line of Jackson Kayaks - the "Journey."  It is being marketed as a kayak for beginners and advanced kayakers, so they wanted to show how beginners like George and I could easily maneuver them.

George and me kayaking in Cape Coral.

We went out to the same area we'd gone the day before when we were on the speed boat.  It was a lot of fun and really beautiful.  In the shallow water I saw blue crabs, horseshoe crabs, stingrays and dolphins in the distance.  We also saw ibises, egrets, blue herrings, cranes and other beautiful birds.  When the shooting was done, George and I paddled back to the marina and he started packing his stuff to go home.  Originally, my flight had been on Wednesday afternoon as well, but I canceled it to get a flight credit so that I could stay in FL a few extra days and help Drew drive back Saturday.  If I'd known he was coming back that soon when I'd first decided to come, I wouldn't have booked a flight at all.  But, at least this will force me to do more traveling in future. :)  Maybe I can use it toward a trip to Spain....

Takin' a break.

So I took George to the airport, came back and started writing a story about Drew for the Observer.  I will also be writing one for Kayak Angler magazine about what kayak fishing is like from an outside perspective.  When Drew and crew got back from fishing that evening, Drew, James, Damon, Al and I all went down to the restaurant.  I had my bathing suit on under my dress as I planned to swim while they ate (I knew I couldn't afford to eat there) but Al insisted that I eat with them and that he'd pay.  Al (Damon's dad) was in the army for 23 years and you don't argue with him. lol  I got pasta with shrimp and it was very good.

Afterward, we all went in the hot tub, which should really be called a burn tub because it was scalding.  I ended up in the pool after a few minutes.

This morning (Thurs) the guys left very early to meet a guide to go fishing in a different spot.  We had to switch rooms today so I went and checked us out and moved all our bags to the new room.  About 4 p.m. James, Drew and I will be leaving to drive to Ft. Lauderdale and stay with Uncle John tonight.  James has a flight back to Canada very early Sat morning and thus it would be easier to already be there.  Only Damon and Al will stay tonight in this beautiful hotel.

Tomorrow after we drop James at the airport, we'll drive to Jacksonville again where I will hang out with Kyle and Drew will go fishing.  On Saturday Drew had to give a demonstration of his Coosa kayak at 2 p.m. then have dinner with some of the people there afterward.  Kyle said he can prob. take me to the beach or something.  We'll either drive back to Charlotte Sat. after Drew's dinner or Sunday morning.  It is very nice of Kyle to let us stay again.

Phew, that was long.  Anyway, figured I had to give a detailed account since this is my first real trip in six months.

I write this from the balcony of the new room were I am looking at a river leading away from the marina cutting through nothing but green trees and mangroves.  It is a more peaceful view and also very beautiful.  Too bad I don't have a camera to take a photo.  Anyway, I'm off to spend my last couple hours here reading by the pool.

~~~~

On Thursday after the guys returned form fishing, Drew, James and I drove to Ft. Lauderdale where Uncle John had prepared an amazing soup for our dinner.  We were all pretty tired, so we went to bed early.  Uncle John had to get up early for work, and Drew had to take James to the airport very early.  Drew then returned and we both slept until 9 a.m.  We ate breakfast and then rolled out sometime after 10 to head up to West Palm Beach where Drew had to drop off a kayak.  While there, I got the oil changed as a thank you for the trip, and then we continued on to Jacksonville.

When we arrived, Kyle took us to a restaurant called Karma that was very good.  They had the best sweet potato fries I'd ever consumed.  After dinner, we all went to a party where Kyle's friends were having a bonfire and game night.  There were about 14 of us and we had a great time playing catchphrase, then some of us played Guesstures.  The group reminded me a lot of the CharlotteONE group here in Charlotte, and I liked all of them immediately. 

With Kyle at the Kingfish Grille.

The next morning, Drew got up very early to go fishing in Jax.  Kyle and I slept in and then went to the gym (where they were kind enough to let me in).  From there we headed to one of the beaches near St. Augustine.  It was a beautiful day and I enjoyed sitting in the sunshine and listening to the waves and talking with Kyle.  From there we went to a restaurant for lunch called Kingfish Grille that was right on a boat harbor.  I had mahi-mahi....again. lol  But, it was very good.  Finally, we went to old town St. Augustine and just walked around.  The day was so nice I really didn't want to go into any of the shops.  Kyle got ice cream, but I was so full from lunch I passed. 

By the St. Augustine fort.

It started to get a bit chilly on the drive back a little after 5 with the top down on Kyle's mustang, but otherwise, it was just the right temperature all day long.

Drew was already back when we got home.  We decided to watch a movie, order pizza for dinner, then go to a bar to watch the UFC fight.  I was not thrilled about that part of the plan, but Drew really wanted to see it.  By the time we got home, Kyle and I were completely exhausted and we all slept in until about 10 a.m. on Sunday.

Sunday, Drew and I planned to go to the Jax beach with Kyle and his friends and then head back to Charlotte.  However, Drew could not find his keys.  After checking everywhere, we drove to the bar we'd been the night before which was close to the beach, and still they could not be found.  Drew started calling Jax Toyota dealers and finally found one that was open on a Sunday which would make him a key for $8.  So, poor Kyle had to drive us back from the beach earlier than he wanted to leave, get the title from Drew's car, drive us another 45 minutes to the dealership, and then back.  I felt really bad for him, but he's so nice he wouldn't complain.  Drew bought us both lunch at a really good Mexican place as a "thank you" for our trouble, and we finally headed out about 4 p.m. 


On the drive back, there was a fatal accident that had us virtually stalled on the interstate for 2 hours.  We didn't get back home until 12:30 a.m. - but at least we made it safely. 

Bitter-Sweet Goodbye

Today is my last day at work, and yes, it is bitter-sweet.  It is a beautiful day of about 70 with spring in the air.  I'm about to leave for Florida and my things are packed.  And even though I know I'll be okay, and have plenty of work as a freelancer, it's the newsroom people I will dearly miss.  I knew I would miss my close friends here - Cleve and Jessy in particular - but there were others I didn't expect that I'm just now realizing how much I'll miss them. 

Today, one of the editors I work with told me I'm "just about the nicest person she's ever met" in all sincerity.  Then she gave me a beautiful little hand-thrown pottery flower holder with flowers and a card.  Practically made me tear up. 

On the other hand, I'm rather excited to be leaving.  I'm ready to travel again and make my own schedule.  I also have that thrill of expectation.  Like standing on the edge of a cliff and peeking over to see what's at the bottom - and whether or not you'll jump.  It's the fear and joy of the unknown.  So many possibilities.  Sort of like being single after being in a relationship for a while.  Or maybe that's just the way I feel...lol

Also, I'm hoping very sincerely to make it abroad soonish.   I miss Europe something terrible and I really, truly want to see some of the beautiful cities in southern Spain. 

So, I'm sure I'll have updates from Florida, but until then....

A Love That Will Never Leave Me

It was a summer of firsts: my first trip to England, the first summer home after a year of college, my first boyfriend, and in a sense, my first love. 

"Chad" and I started dating the day I arrived home from UNC that summer.  He was tall, blond, handsome, smart, and absolutely adored me.  How could a girl ask for more?  The first half of the summer went by in a hazy bliss and I didn’t know enough to wonder if I was missing something.  Together, we envisioned wedding bells and happily-ever-afters.  Then one day, my mother handed me a newspaper clipping.  It advertised an Argentine tango class that took place every Monday night at Patou Bistro near uptown with dancing afterward.  “I thought maybe this would interest you,” she said, “since you seem to enjoy salsa so much at school.” 

Freshman year had indeed been eye-opening where my dancing was concerned.  I went from a world of tap, jazz, and ballet and found myself involved in ballroom with salsa on the side.  I loved the energy in partner dancing, the feeling of togetherness that you cannot find in the solitary dances I grew up with.  I’d never heard of Argentine tango, but I knew I enjoyed ballroom tango, so I figured we could try it out. 

Tango Art by Guillermo (Bill) Temples. passionfortango.com

When Chad and I opened the door to Patou’s that night, it was like stepping into a different world.  I stood fascinated as I watched couples floating by me in a dreamlike trance.  Their torsos and cheeks were pressed together, their legs moved in synchronization – they even breathed as one.  I watched as the women’s legs seemed to stretch for miles behind their hips, balancing only on their toes and leaving three-inch heels hovering above the ground – complete faith that the men they were leaning into would not drop them. 

The place was warm and musky; smoke hung above the nearby bar and the orangey lighting kept the atmosphere close, and embracing.  The music was in a plane of its own.  The melancholy and enticing whine of the accordion accompanied by the bitter-sweet sounds of the Spanish guitar tore a person between the desire to fall in love, or to cry.  In that moment, I chose love. 

I believed Chad to be as spellbound as I was.  After several minutes, the class began, and the music was turned down for the instructor to assemble everyone into lines.  In that first 50 minute class, we learned how to walk.  Yes, walk.  Walking, evenly and with the music, is the basic principle for Argentine tango – but I wanted more.  I wanted to do what I had just witnessed.  To find oneness and sexiness that transcends vulgar and escalates to a heavenly beauty.  This beginner’s class was not either of those things.  I became even more frustrated when I realized Chad was struggling – with walking!  I tried to correct, and he felt ashamed (though I did not realize it at the time), so after the class was over he sat at the bar and I tried out my newfound walking skills with old-timers.  I sucked up every morsel of new knowledge they shared with me like a sponge. 

Dancing came easily to me – it was hard then to realize how fortunate I was, and how difficult it was for someone like Chad who had never danced before.  Every couple songs I’d ask Chard to dance, but in his embarrassment he turned me down and pretended it was no big deal.  He told me he didn’t mind, and I willingly believed him.  Finally, I stopped asking. 

I danced with many different men, making new friends left and right, learning new techniques, and every once in a while, reaching the outer fringe of the oneness I sought. 

It was when I danced with Guillermo that I felt my world truly shift.  He led me with power and gentleness combined.  My feet were taking directions my head had not given them.  My body felt light and graceful, and then all was silent except for the music.  Each heartbeat was a step, and with our chests pressed together, I wasn’t sure anymore where my heartbeat began, and his left off.  My nerves started to ebb.  A long whine on the accordion would indicate a long sweep of my back leg, though I’m not sure how it knew to do that.  But a good tango lead can make your body do things without your permission.  Trust is formed in the span of one dance.  The bond a good leader and follower create together cannot be broken – for the length of that song, you are in love.  And you truly are – with the dance. 

Tango is not a dance to be taken lightly.  It is not a casual pastime.  It is a life; a life of commitment, love, passion, and soul.  That first night, I could not put that concept into words.  I did not know what I had just stumbled into, but I felt a change.  My heart swelled and seemed to overflow.  When I realized it was time to go home, I had to fight tears.  Looking at Chad, anger and jealousy raging behind his blue eyes, I realized what our relationship did not have.  I was not in love with Chad, for in the span of three hours, I had fallen in love with tango, and that felt ten times stronger than the last month and a half spent with my first boyfriend. 

Driving home that night, I was sad.  The elation I felt on the dance floor only heightened the pain I felt now.  Chad was terribly jealous; he didn’t want to dance anymore and he didn’t want me to dance with other men like that ever again.  I knew that was a promise I could not make, and thus I saw the future of our relationship ending – over one night of Argentine tango. 

Five years later, my first true love has still not left me wanting.  I can always find the oneness now, thanks to Guillermo’s teaching.  I feel the music in my core; I can anticipate my partner’s next move before he makes it.  I can mold my body into another’s without feeling awkward and self-conscious and my feet do things I never thought they could do (though I’m still not consciously controlling them). 

I have been in love since Chad (with actual men, not dances) but it was the tango that really taught me how that felt – it was easier to find after that.  But love with men comes and goes: the love of tango will never leave me.

Travels with Charley

I'm reading Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck and oh how I love it!  His thoughts about America are so akin to my own, though he also makes me wish in some ways that I could've traversed the country alone as I did in Europe - that way I'd be forced to meet and rely on  more strangers.  At the same time, having someone to map-read for me allowed more observations of the landscape than if I was constantly fiddling with and worrying about a map.  But that is neither here nor there - the point is, that in reading this delightful book, it has repeatedly struck me as sad that John is dead and I can therefore never do so much as write him a letter to tell the old man what a delight the book has given me.  One day in heaven, I do hope we will meet  - for I think despite a difference of many decades, we are kindred spirits.

He has made me very eager to go to New England and travel there as well as to see the dells and topography of Wisconsin.  Montana also made the kind of impression on dear old John that it made on me - an amazing spectacle that words cannot do justice.  He says it will remain forever as his favorite state in our great nation.  It is certainly a state about which I remember saying "I can't wait to come back here and just spend time."  Preferably something in the 2 to 3 week range.  I feel spending an expanse of time in a place like Montana would do the heart immense good.  It is so...wholesome.  The rolling hills with rocky cliffs and hidden caves beg to be explored.  Then there are the grasslands that extend for miles in gentle slopes and perhaps it was just me, but I so desperately wanted to mount a horse (bareback perhaps) and gallop across those fields to see where I ended up. 

Steinbeck also made a point about the redwoods.  That no painting, picture or description has ever done them justice.  And it is absolutely true.  In my blog I remember saying that nothing can prepare you for the immensity, the awe inspiring beauty and grandeur that are the redwoods.  John added to that and talked about the light among the redwoods.  Something I had observed, but not put words too.  The way the daylight is like the haziness of dawn until noon at which point it pours like rain through the canopy in yellow-green impressionist speckles to the forest floor.  The light all around you becomes infused with color and you feel trapped in a Seurat painting.  Then, shortly after noon, the light becomes that of dusk, and stays that way until nightfall. 

I remember drive through the forests around 6 p.m. and thinking that it sure was dark earlier than usual.  Once emerging from the trees, the light lasted another hour or so - while inside I'd felt certain blackness would descend at any minute. 

A last observation and lamentation made by Steinbeck concerned the American language.  He noticed (and this was in '62) how the varied American dialects were slowly going by the wayside due to the uniform speech infiltrating the country via radio and TV.  Being a "great lover of language and words" he said it saddened him to hear the distinctness of an area losing itself to the generality of the masses, even though his logical self knew that this was a product of greater education and communication. 

I too can understand his lamentations.  Even British accents have become less poignant than they were a hundred years ago.  The idea that our country's individuality is losing itself to a generality saddens me as well.  If Steinbeck noticed it 50 years ago, I cannot imagine how much worse it would seem to him today.  With globalization like it has never been before, it will only be a matter of time when nearly everyone speaks English with a bland, unoriginal accent.  And, I agree with Steinbeck - something will be lost.