when i learned i was moving to washington, i promised myself to roll with whatever life had in store for me. no more fighting, searching, longing. i was just going to be. i mean, it's not just that we never know what is in store for us. it's that if we're so focused on the search, we miss what is, and i wanted to stop and smell the flowers for a while.
and i guess maybe that's just easier to do whilst living in a city known for its transient nature. i mean this is DC. the residents change with the political winds. no one is from here, and no one is here to stay. most of us didn't set our sights on the place, we're all just here because we somehow landed here. and we're all just waiting for the right exit door to open, whatever it may be and wherever it may lead.
thing is, there's a lot of time to reflect when you're in a temporary place. i've spent the past few months thinking about where i've been, what i've done with this extraordinary life i've lead with a passion often times more reckless than not, and what it is i truly want next. i made it easy on myself by creating a bucket list a few years back, and these past weeks and months i've oft peered it over with a mind more open that i've allowed much these past few years. my focus is clearing, and i'm sharpening the red pencil i'm set to take to my bucket list this year.
i want to go home. and it's time.
there's this song on a playlist my love made for me that's kinda feeling like my theme song of now. the lyrics tell my story, "another airplane, another place, i'm lucky, but i wanna go home... i feel like i'm living someone else's life... surrounded by a million people, i still feel all alone."
that's me.
it's not that i don't love my life or washington, or that i can't revel in my own bravery for starting over on another coast at my age. it's just that being here makes it all clear. being here makes it truly clear for me that a life alone will be a lonely one. i don't want to be a lone adventurer our there saving the world from all its woes. i want a rich life, full of love and laughter. and i want to go home to my love, and share a life with him, happily ever after.
but first i'm taking a little trip to sip turkish coffee in the shadow of the hagia sophia, after which i'm gonna spend 22 hours roaming the streets of my beloved paris...
~k
29 August 2010
26 August 2010
hating days
i rarely write about the day job because i don't think it's terribly appropriate (even though i'll never mention where i work, who i work for, and will be super pissed if any of my readers spill those beans), and in the grand scheme of things, my day job doesn't play a giant role in how i define myself as a person and my satisfaction in life.
at least it didn't until recently. because recently, my day job has become the biggest, most frustrating, time-consuming, and annoying pain in my ass. it takes almost all of my time and energy, and for the first time in my life i'm working _way_ harder than i'm being paid (up till now, the pay has been pretty equal to the output).
and for the first time in my life as a working girl, i don't know how much longer i can keep up this pace... and i can't seem to catch a break no matter what i do.
fer instance, last night i went to bed at a very healthy (and unusual) 10:30. wowsers you say. wowsers i agree. and then about 1 am or so, the fire alarm went off in my building. now, i'm not talking about that little pussy smoke detector you've got hanging over the door in your bedroom. i'm talking about this kinda fire alarm (sans the british accent). over and over and over again. so when i'd rather've been soundly sleeping away the stress i'm under, i had to pack up my dog and walk down to the street, where we hung out with the other pissed off tenants and the fire department till we got the all clear to go back to bed. after which, the alarm continued to do that shit all night...
fast forward to today. despite that i'm busy as fuck with a million other things, and even though i'm exhausted after the night's shenanigans, i was able to complete a project i've been working on for weeks. and as soon as i scratched it off my to-do list and leaned back with a giant sigh of relief, an email came through with a big giant OOPS, not an oops that's my fault or anything, but one that will likely require a complete do over of the entire fucking thing. and if there's one thing that pisses me off more than anything else, it's a do-over.
thank goodness i keep whiskey in my desk drawer. and thank goodness i have a door i can close and an office window i can dream about jumping out of...
~k
at least it didn't until recently. because recently, my day job has become the biggest, most frustrating, time-consuming, and annoying pain in my ass. it takes almost all of my time and energy, and for the first time in my life i'm working _way_ harder than i'm being paid (up till now, the pay has been pretty equal to the output).
and for the first time in my life as a working girl, i don't know how much longer i can keep up this pace... and i can't seem to catch a break no matter what i do.
fer instance, last night i went to bed at a very healthy (and unusual) 10:30. wowsers you say. wowsers i agree. and then about 1 am or so, the fire alarm went off in my building. now, i'm not talking about that little pussy smoke detector you've got hanging over the door in your bedroom. i'm talking about this kinda fire alarm (sans the british accent). over and over and over again. so when i'd rather've been soundly sleeping away the stress i'm under, i had to pack up my dog and walk down to the street, where we hung out with the other pissed off tenants and the fire department till we got the all clear to go back to bed. after which, the alarm continued to do that shit all night...
fast forward to today. despite that i'm busy as fuck with a million other things, and even though i'm exhausted after the night's shenanigans, i was able to complete a project i've been working on for weeks. and as soon as i scratched it off my to-do list and leaned back with a giant sigh of relief, an email came through with a big giant OOPS, not an oops that's my fault or anything, but one that will likely require a complete do over of the entire fucking thing. and if there's one thing that pisses me off more than anything else, it's a do-over.
thank goodness i keep whiskey in my desk drawer. and thank goodness i have a door i can close and an office window i can dream about jumping out of...
~k
22 August 2010
twas the perfect sunday till...
when i got out of bed this morning, i knew i'd spend much of today thinking and writing. for the first time in weeks, i feel rested. i awoke happy that my puppy let me sleep till almost noon, that i found a most lovely letter from my love, and i was super stoked to take apart both of my newspapers whilst my coffee brewed and i fired up the tele for this morning's meet the press.
what i didn't think i'd be writing about was my great disappointment with the american people. i've long and often ranted about the morons out there with voting pens, those dingalong followers who hang onto every insipid lie-of-a-word spoken by the fear-mongering right, who cannot utilize a single brain cell to think rationally through their feelings of terror and their fear of terrorists. but after making it through my favorite section of the ny times, and not knowing whether to post frank's column, maureen's, tom's, or shockingly nick's, i'm here to write my own about the burlington-coat-factory-community-center that's got the fear mongers and their herd of dipshits in an uproar.
it's all we've heard about all week, right? i mean, how many people saw general patraeus on meet the press last sunday, or listened to him in any number of the other mediums he's visited this past week to try to sell his cause in afghanistan to a weary america? i'd say a much smaller percentage than saw and heard all the nonsense about the "9/11 mosque" (such bullshit that description is!). funny how, and this is all frank rich, the same hawks who beg and scream for patience with the afghanistan war are the same ones comparing muslims to nazis: the irony being that they want us to fight a war and build a nation for those they label nazis at home. frank rich calls it "putting politics over country".
i call it fucking deceitful (which might be one of the biggest reasons he has a column in the ny times and i'm over here at blogger (the other being that i also like to write about my dog, life in the district, and all the other mundane "nonsense" that drives some of my readers to the brink of insanity)). and to what end? i'm clearly not the only person who recognizes that muslims around the world are watching this debate, with visions of sugary terrorist recruitment dancing in their heads.
or as maureen dowd poignently pointed out, using charles mackay quotes in her column today, "of all the offspring of time, Error is the most ancient, and is so old and familiar an acquaintance, that Truth, when discovered, comes upon most of us like an intruder, and meets the intruder's welcome... a misdirected zeal in matters of religion befogs the Truth most egregiously."
so why i ask - myself, all of you, and the entirety of the world, is it that a respected "news organization" (not respected by me as the case may be), with billions of dollars in its coffers and millions of dedicated followers can so fervently, and without even the slightest hesitation in decency, flaunt error with such zeal to so egregiously befog the truth, to the detriment of not just democrats in upcoming elections, but the safety, security, and health of americans at home and those sacrificing their lives for "nazis - afghans i mean -" abroad?
and can we really wonder why it is that i'd rather think about and write about chicken bones, bluto, my dog, and my love?
i think not.
~k
what i didn't think i'd be writing about was my great disappointment with the american people. i've long and often ranted about the morons out there with voting pens, those dingalong followers who hang onto every insipid lie-of-a-word spoken by the fear-mongering right, who cannot utilize a single brain cell to think rationally through their feelings of terror and their fear of terrorists. but after making it through my favorite section of the ny times, and not knowing whether to post frank's column, maureen's, tom's, or shockingly nick's, i'm here to write my own about the burlington-coat-factory-community-center that's got the fear mongers and their herd of dipshits in an uproar.
it's all we've heard about all week, right? i mean, how many people saw general patraeus on meet the press last sunday, or listened to him in any number of the other mediums he's visited this past week to try to sell his cause in afghanistan to a weary america? i'd say a much smaller percentage than saw and heard all the nonsense about the "9/11 mosque" (such bullshit that description is!). funny how, and this is all frank rich, the same hawks who beg and scream for patience with the afghanistan war are the same ones comparing muslims to nazis: the irony being that they want us to fight a war and build a nation for those they label nazis at home. frank rich calls it "putting politics over country".
i call it fucking deceitful (which might be one of the biggest reasons he has a column in the ny times and i'm over here at blogger (the other being that i also like to write about my dog, life in the district, and all the other mundane "nonsense" that drives some of my readers to the brink of insanity)). and to what end? i'm clearly not the only person who recognizes that muslims around the world are watching this debate, with visions of sugary terrorist recruitment dancing in their heads.
or as maureen dowd poignently pointed out, using charles mackay quotes in her column today, "of all the offspring of time, Error is the most ancient, and is so old and familiar an acquaintance, that Truth, when discovered, comes upon most of us like an intruder, and meets the intruder's welcome... a misdirected zeal in matters of religion befogs the Truth most egregiously."
so why i ask - myself, all of you, and the entirety of the world, is it that a respected "news organization" (not respected by me as the case may be), with billions of dollars in its coffers and millions of dedicated followers can so fervently, and without even the slightest hesitation in decency, flaunt error with such zeal to so egregiously befog the truth, to the detriment of not just democrats in upcoming elections, but the safety, security, and health of americans at home and those sacrificing their lives for "nazis - afghans i mean -" abroad?
and can we really wonder why it is that i'd rather think about and write about chicken bones, bluto, my dog, and my love?
i think not.
~k
18 August 2010
rainy days
when i lived in southern california, a rainy day meant a day indoors. i didn't go to work, didn't run errands, canceled plans, and pretty much canceled life till the storm passed. here, that would be impossible because it rains too much to hold up a 'hold' sign.
my morning started trying to convince miss scarlet to go potty while the rain drenched her fair coat. i failed. but i did make it into the office, to a lunch meeting down the street (with a couple of bad asses from georgetown, i might add), back home to give the rain pee another whirl, and then a hop into the car to maryland for dinner.
sidebar: the car thing is probably worthy of its own blog post, as tonight was only the third time i've seen the mini since moving to the district. i pay $200 per month for the privilege of parking in the city, a cost offset by the fact that my insurance has shrunk in half and i've still got 3/4 of the same tank of gas i drove into town with nearly two months ago. i just have to remind myself to drive her around the block at least once a week so she'll start on command (tonight took a few attempts to turn over the engine).
the point here being that the rain doesn't halt life as it did not all that long ago. it doesn't even really suck. no matter how i mighta felt about the rain back in so cal, here it's just part of my life. it's something that makes getting out of bed harder, causes me to miss my boyfriend even more than usual by per its particularly romantic nature, and makes me feel like a bad ass for not letting it stop me from kicking the day's ass.
~k
my morning started trying to convince miss scarlet to go potty while the rain drenched her fair coat. i failed. but i did make it into the office, to a lunch meeting down the street (with a couple of bad asses from georgetown, i might add), back home to give the rain pee another whirl, and then a hop into the car to maryland for dinner.
sidebar: the car thing is probably worthy of its own blog post, as tonight was only the third time i've seen the mini since moving to the district. i pay $200 per month for the privilege of parking in the city, a cost offset by the fact that my insurance has shrunk in half and i've still got 3/4 of the same tank of gas i drove into town with nearly two months ago. i just have to remind myself to drive her around the block at least once a week so she'll start on command (tonight took a few attempts to turn over the engine).
the point here being that the rain doesn't halt life as it did not all that long ago. it doesn't even really suck. no matter how i mighta felt about the rain back in so cal, here it's just part of my life. it's something that makes getting out of bed harder, causes me to miss my boyfriend even more than usual by per its particularly romantic nature, and makes me feel like a bad ass for not letting it stop me from kicking the day's ass.
~k
16 August 2010
afraid of my space
though i've been here several times the past week, i've written not a word. it's not that i haven't had anything to say, it's that i'm afraid to say it. afraid to be myself in my own space, observe what i will, say what i will, live as i will. as though it's my responsibility to live up to other people's ideal of me.
how fucked up is that?
like seriously, how could i let someone else's assholio comments get to me so deeply? i pride myself on not giving too much of a shit about what other people think, and here i am cowering from my own blog. in spite of the outpouring of support from those of you who love me just as i am, instead of how you think i should be, i am still here in stumble mode.
maybe getting it out here will get it out of my head, and knock whatever's standing in my way right off its post. or at least i can hope...
~k
how fucked up is that?
like seriously, how could i let someone else's assholio comments get to me so deeply? i pride myself on not giving too much of a shit about what other people think, and here i am cowering from my own blog. in spite of the outpouring of support from those of you who love me just as i am, instead of how you think i should be, i am still here in stumble mode.
maybe getting it out here will get it out of my head, and knock whatever's standing in my way right off its post. or at least i can hope...
~k
09 August 2010
the beauty of _my_ blog
dear paris wagon guy -
this is my place. mine. my safe place to be me, express me, and be comfortable with me.
this is where i feel free to write what i will, express whatever tickles my fancy today, put out there whatever is on my mind. this is _my_ place to do with as i please. and if you don't like what i'm writing, then peace the eff out.
if i want to write about politics, i will. if i want to write about how madly in love with my boyfriend i am, or how much more amazing life is with a dog, or how the above two loves have changed my life's priorities, i will. if i want to write about discovering life in my new city, above and below her streets, this is my place to do so.
i am not here to be original, above and beyond what's new or important to me. i'm not here to satiate your need for me to be something greater than just a girl exploring her new city. and gosh, i sure do hate to disappoint my fans, but i'm just a girl exploring her new city with her new dog, whilst exploring new feelings for a new boyfriend.
if you want to come here and read about me, you are welcome. and you are even welcome to post comments that i won't delete. but don't you dare come to _my_ place and tell me what i should be doing here. this place is _mine_ not yours. and if you don't like that, then go away...
~k
this is my place. mine. my safe place to be me, express me, and be comfortable with me.
this is where i feel free to write what i will, express whatever tickles my fancy today, put out there whatever is on my mind. this is _my_ place to do with as i please. and if you don't like what i'm writing, then peace the eff out.
if i want to write about politics, i will. if i want to write about how madly in love with my boyfriend i am, or how much more amazing life is with a dog, or how the above two loves have changed my life's priorities, i will. if i want to write about discovering life in my new city, above and below her streets, this is my place to do so.
i am not here to be original, above and beyond what's new or important to me. i'm not here to satiate your need for me to be something greater than just a girl exploring her new city. and gosh, i sure do hate to disappoint my fans, but i'm just a girl exploring her new city with her new dog, whilst exploring new feelings for a new boyfriend.
if you want to come here and read about me, you are welcome. and you are even welcome to post comments that i won't delete. but don't you dare come to _my_ place and tell me what i should be doing here. this place is _mine_ not yours. and if you don't like that, then go away...
~k
08 August 2010
the eeriness of a city sleeping
one of my favorite things about italy is the solitude of her morning. in venice in particular. too dark still to be morning long after it should, the only sounds being the faint swish of the brooms sweeping the streets of yesterday and the mild rushing of water through the canals, venice mornings have a hauntingly romantic feel about it.
dc mornings, on the other hand, though similarly dereft of life beyond the grumbling street sweepers, are more akin to the ruins abandoned by the traveling carnival. trash and half-eaten food everywhere, broken glass littering the walkways, dead rats strewn about, the smell of garbage drifting through air bogged down by soggy humidity, and a more americanized version of the street sweeper bitching about the pigs and the trough they make of the streets. notwithsanding its eww factor, dc mornings have their own air of intrigue.
and as different as their mornings can be, there really is something captivating in walking the streets of a city so typically swelling with life and sparkle, in those rare moments when even it gives in to the allure of sleep.
~k
dc mornings, on the other hand, though similarly dereft of life beyond the grumbling street sweepers, are more akin to the ruins abandoned by the traveling carnival. trash and half-eaten food everywhere, broken glass littering the walkways, dead rats strewn about, the smell of garbage drifting through air bogged down by soggy humidity, and a more americanized version of the street sweeper bitching about the pigs and the trough they make of the streets. notwithsanding its eww factor, dc mornings have their own air of intrigue.
and as different as their mornings can be, there really is something captivating in walking the streets of a city so typically swelling with life and sparkle, in those rare moments when even it gives in to the allure of sleep.
~k
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