Exploring my future options

I have been seeing various discussions on what it means to be a Gen Y, a Millennial, who falls into what category, and how this generation should do this thing or that thing, how we are unhappy, how we are disappointing our country, etc. etc. Honestly, i mostly ignore all of this information because, when you group all of the young adults into categories, how in the world are we supposed to take you seriously? We are not all tech-savvy, were are not all unhappy, some of us love working for the same company for years and investing in our retirement, some are activists, some are lost, and most likely do not care about your statistics about our lives. Personally i think you're right, i was raised to think were are all pretty damn special and unique, just as every other individual in a generation has been and will be.

Were all Baby Boomers hippies? My mother definitely wasn't. In fact, if i remember my history lesson correctly, the silent majority wasn't involved in the free-loving, war-protesting, hippy movement. I would be willing to say that in my home state of Wyoming and many others there likely wasn't so much free-loving, war-protesting movements outside in the streets where everyone could see. My father had the gorgeous long hair and fabulous bell bottom pants, and i sometimes ask him what it was like to see the television reports over dinner and know people being drafted. Scary.

What's more? As i encounter people or children of people who were involved in these country-changing movements, often they have stories that largely circle around the drugs, sex, and self-involved spiritual quests to find oneself, not the idealized pictures i have held up in my mind of what that movement came to represent for me. Disappointing, really. And these people, the ones i meet or their children, guess what the majority of them do? The same thing everyone does. They went to work at some random business, gave up living off the grid in the dream of their activism, and kept their heads down. It breaks my heart to see this generation of broken activists. The war in Vietnam ended, and then they got down to business to earn money, raise their family, and survive. As simple as that. So i guess the question they are asking (or at least i feel the pressure to ask myself) is why, as a generation, are we having such a hard time doing the same?

Of course i don't know. There's no way i could know this. Just like there's no way to really explain how it could have been possible to give it up and go work for some firm and invest in retirement. All i know is that i have not found this an easy path to follow. And, at least in my head, i gave it a few tries. There are a lot of things that are both wrong and right in the world (and the business world in particular), and while i don't have any idea on how to fix or support them, i do know that i can't seem to find a reason to just accept the way things are and do what society tells me is the next step. I am fully aware that i am nearly 30, unemployed, habitually single, with little to no direction in my life, without health care but with some serious medical questions, and have friends and family strung around the world. But you know what? I am happy every single day. And how many of the people we know doing what we are supposed to do next can say that? It seems ridiculous, but honestly, even when i've been mugged, when i'm desperately missing my people, and when communication with the outside world seems impossible; every single day i am happy.

I was not able to say this when i had a 40 hour a week job back in the States... But there is one huge thing i miss desperately: having a home. Some little place in the world that felt right, where i could settle into my skin and just exist. This general malaise has recently made me question that while life is hands-down far exceeding what i expected, i am not sure how long i can maintain this path i've chosen. Can someone really be happy without a home? For how long? And what would i need to feel that again after 15 years?

So far i've come to three things i personally need to maintain my happy life indefinitely:
1.) a job that i love, that gives me some end product to feel accomplished at the end of the day.
2.) a location that i love, where i can feel myself and free.
3.) a person that i love, who supports me fully and will always be there for me.

Number one has thus far proved elusive. Things that i love, and then have to work ridiculous hours at have a tendency to turn sour to me. Those few things that i am still passionate about (travel, baking, reading...) i have held off from exploring as a job because they are so precious i worry about loosing my love for them too (plus, who would pay me to do those things? No, really... is there someone?). It feels like if i were able to find this job, i would be able to live anywhere... but as it is an untried theory i can't be certain.

Number two is the most exciting for me. Right now, I am considering a) Yellowstone National Park, b) the Pacific coast of Costa Rica, and c) anyplace near to my dear friends and family (such as the Big Island of Hawai'i). I think that if i was around my favorite places in the world i could do anything for work as long as i was still free enough to enjoy my surroundings. Rent out rooms in the house i would own (my own little oven and library!), work at some small local job to meet people, and maybe get some income online... I've learned to live on basically nothing, and found myself to be much happier for it. So with enough to own my personal space, i think i could make life work.

And number three is very dependent on an unpredictable variable. I have been traveling with my cherished younger sister for a year and a half, and in that time i felt that i could do anything, anywhere. The problem is that this last one makes me lose the independence that i have loved over the past 15 years. If my happiness requires me to stick near this other person, be it my sister, a friend, or (as unlikely as it may be) a mate, what do i do when this person wants to settle into some place i don't want to be and then doesn't have time to give me anymore? From both past and recent experience, i found that this is the most difficult question to be posed. It turns out, i leave... because i am not only high maintenance, but also not nearly as supportive as i would like my other to be.

Having a Latin boyfriend

My last Lent post! (And, true to form from years of procrastination, it is late)

I have many things in this little side blog that I will eventually talk about. Quite a few things, really. But instead I am going to sit down and type out all the nonsense that I have been dragging myself through recently. Because at some point during the past three months, I decided to have a Latin boyfriend.

Not just saying yes to having some gentleman caller, or agreeing to see someone exclusively. I went ahead and got myself entangled in some strange inter-cultural relationship where we are seemingly playing roles from a telenovella. I went from a relatively placid life of travel with the most dramatic moments when Clifford would get entangled with Betty or some other luggage arguments.

Now I can be seen literally yelling about how ridiculous this is in some combination of Spanish/French/English on the streets of Cali while my jealous Latin boyfriend interrupts me constantly and gestures wildly outside my favorite salsa club. We spit fire at each other about as often as he grabs me into giant hugs (I know, someone feels comfortable enough to wrap me up in a hug. It freaks me out, too), and it doesn't matter if we are standing in front of our friends, complete strangers, or alone in front of the bathroom mirror.

We hold hands when we walk, and he needs almost all of my attention when we are in the same space. I feel both incredibly suffocated by all of this, and also strangely drawn to staying in it. We both seem to be caught in this strange pull to just throw up our hands and say it's not worth all the stress it creates that balances all the laughter and fun we have when things are going well.

We have more problems with communication than I thought possible, even with the language barrier we both knew existed when we entered into this madness. We are both uncomfortable with the intense differences in our respective cultures: I cannot understand the over-protective, jealous, possessive tendencies; he is confused by my fierce independence over even the smallest things (like walking to the bathroom), my strange need to complete everything that I commit myself to (including working for a slightly inappropriate boss while I am not even living at the hostel any longer) while I cannot commit to even the most loose plans for the next day, and most of all how I can get so upset when he interrupts me while I am trying to talk.

We are so very different. But we are also fundamentally similar people. We love to laugh at ourselves, and both have dangerously lazy habits at times. We both keep track of all of the members of our group, almost obsessively (even though I often have to remind him to let B make her own decisions and run about freely, just as long as we know where she is). We are stubborn, and dislike being wrong so much it makes us physically uncomfortable. He will run in the sand and play in the water with me, and I love to go out dancing with him.

Last night he told me that he doesn't want to be with someone who doesn't need him and who doesn't consult him in their plans. I told him that I don't want any more of the drama or arguing or feeling suffocated and trapped. We argue about arguing. We make each other cry from anger or being unsure of what exactly is going on. We still don't really know.

But he's right, I don't need him. I have traveled for a year, both through some rough, turbulent times and peaceful, happy ones. And I am still here, and I am positive that I could make it as far as B and I want to go, just the two of us. But maybe, I want him around. Even with all the drama, all the tears, and all the frustrations. And for me, isn't that more important?

Clifford

As all of you may already know, I have been spending the last year with B traveling Latin America. What only the few of you who have joined us on this trip may know, we could not have done any of this alone.

This is why it is long overdue that I introduce my best friend and ex-boyfriend, Clifford. Don't worry, those of you who knew us while we were together, we are still just as close as we once were, there was just a mutual agreement to pursue others.

The problem for me is how could I find anyone who could compare to my Cliff? He is so supportive, we fit together so well, he's always got my back, he manages to deal so well with all of my baggage, he is a great listener and has never betrayed my trust, he's fairly independent and doesn't mind when I go out without him, he is great at making friends, he is interested in trekking but understands if I need to take a break and go without him, he's organized, and he's adorable.

We seem to have been losing weight together over the past year, which we are both very happy about. He's been great at keeping me in shape while on the road, and I make sure to moderate what he takes in so he stays trim. He's been growing a bit of black stubble recently, and I've been thinking about making him clean up a bit and he's been tugging at my hair a bit to let me know it's time for a trim.

The worst rough patch we hit was back in the beginning in Costa Rica. Gissy was coming to visit, and I think with all the stress of making a good impression he may have caught a bit of travel illness. We were staying in the beach in Montezuma and early in the morning he vomited all over the sand and then peed himself right in front of her. He'll never live that one down... Good news is he's a good sport about the jokes!

He gets along with both of my sisters, a feat no boyfriend has ever been able to manage before! He can be a bit clingy at times, which can be really heavy to deal with. But he's a fantastic hugger, and when we are stuck waiting on transport he lets me lean against him to rest.

So this is for you Cliffy, I love you dearly and appreciate all you do for me!

Cliff flirting with another mariposa

Cliff and I waiting for a bus

Blue, B, me and Cliff after a tough hike

Cliff posing for the camera

Me and Cliff resting after a long travel day

Close quarters on one of our first bus rides together

A little cuddle time

Cliff, blue, and B hanging out together on transportation

Not always getting along, but we make a cute awkward couple!

Happy hiking family

To the very understanding police officer who probably should have given me a sobriety test

Friday, February 24, 2012

Dear Police Officer:

First of all, thank you for not arresting me.  In hindsight, i really seem to have given you as much reason as i possibly could have to not only give me a sobriety test, but to also consider me to be a danger to myself or others on the road.  There is an explanation of all of my behavior, i promise you, and this is the exact reason i am writing to you.

I promise you i was not lying when i said that i wasn't texting while driving.  I'm well aware that i am not even coordinated enough to jog, much less operate a vehicle while attempting to send a coherent message on my old-school phone.  I was attempting to force my ancient hunk of phone to silence itself so that i could calmly listen to the end of All Things Considered on NPR.  This is not always an easy task when you have a phone as old as mine.  Let me backtrack and give you some information on what i was doing today before you had to pull me over:

I recently realized that there is not much time let to me before i have to have my life in order so i can travel for an indefinite period of time through Latin America.  Today was not a busy afternoon at work by any standards.  This left quite a lot of time to have a mini panic attack, which always leads me to try to organize details into color-coordinated lists with time deadlines.  So my desk at work is covered in mini post-it notes of varying shades scattered in particular over my desk calendar on the deadlines i have self-imposed.  

But post-it notes cannot jump up of their own accord and come track me down to ensure i am sticking to this schedule.  My solution: to enter in a list of things i needed to do this weekend into my cell phone, and since i was most likely leaving on time today from work (as it was sooo slow) it would go off as i was pulling up to my house, around 530.  Good plan, right?

No.  Not really.  As it turns out, i ended up having a little talk with a co-worker before i left for the day, which carried past 5.  This put me on the road and driving when my cell phone started screaming at me to accomplish the tasks i had just recently set for myself.  Yes, you are right there are buttons on the side of the phone that should, in theory, silence this phone without much more than a little push.  But these small buttons on a (minimum, i really do not remember when i first purchased this thing) 5 year old phone do not work consistently, and this was one of those days it was not working.

So i would have to find another way to silence this thing.  Yes, I probably should have pulled over.  But i knew that i would soon be approaching the stop light on Munras & Fremont that is ALWAYS red.  Even though i would be turning right, there would be no way, i thought, that i wouldn't have to stop for a bit and wait to merge into traffic.  Good plan, right?

No.  Surprise!  The light was green.  I know, crazy right?  It is NEVER green.  Not once.  And i have driven this thing countless times.  So here i am, phone ringing incessantly and sitting in my hand on the steering wheel driving on Fremont.  It's loud, and i really just want to know what they are talking about on NPR.  So yes, i am a bit distracted.  Good news is that the light at the end of Fremont to get onto Highway 1 is coming up, and i ALWAYS have to sit through 2 reds before i can jump on that onramp (they should really have longer green lights to accommodate all the traffic on Fremont).

I imagine this is where you saw me.  I open up the flip portion of my phone to get to the calendar properly, because i did not simply want to delete the entire message of what this weekend had in store for me.  And then the stupid light changed.  So here i am, open phone that is screaming its little head off, and now i'm pulling up to nearly the front of the line to get onto the freeway.  I manage to get the phone silenced, and i place it between my knees instead of trying to maneuver it back into it's little pocket in my purse.  Perfect, i'm done.

Except, this is when i saw you sitting one car in front of me to the right.  And i panic.  Because it is evening-ish time and one of the bulbs in the front of my car are out.  And my lights are the type that are always on.  Many people, and i mean many, have repeatedly reminded me to replace those bulbs.  Often.  For a month.  And then reminded me that it is illegal to drive around without having it fixed.  But i am leaving the country in a month, and i have been known to say "it's only a little bit of time, and light bulbs are expensive.  Why replace it now when it's just going to be parked forever?"

So i panicked.  I was sure you were going to ticket me for my headlight, so i lurched forward to turn on my brights.  Maybe you hadn't noticed that the light was out, and it's not dark enough yet to make the brights really blinding for onlookers.  In my awkward haste to flip those bad boys on, my cell phone slipped from between my knees and onto the floor.  But maybe i was safe.  Maybe you hadn't seen my lights.  And then the light changed, and you pulled me over.

As you sauntered up to my open window, i was cursing myself for not having replaced that light.  You introduced yourself, and very politely asked me if i knew why you had pulled me over.

"Um... Why?"  Thinking i absolutely knew the reason.

"For texting while driving"

And then i bust up laughing.  I know that one is NEVER supposed to laugh at a serious cop.  I know this!  And yet, i was so surprised at the response i couldn't help myself.  I stopped abruptly and responded as seriously as i was able "Oh, I wasn't texting while driving.  I was turning off my alarm"

We then had the discussion about how operating a phone at all without hands free is not allowed while also operating a vehicle, which i had not realized, i thought it was only talking/texting, and you mentioned how it seemed that i have a flip phone and asked if you could see it.  So I agreed happily and went to reach for it under my chair.  This is when i noticed you staring not at my face but into my car somewhere (in hindsight, you were probably looking at the floor to see where i was reaching to make sure i wasn't going to shoot you or something) and i immediately assumed that you were looking at my console, where it clearly shows that my brights are on and i'm missing a headlight (yes there is a light that reminds me constantly to replace that light).

"You threw your cell phone on the floor?" (with heavy disbelief in my innocence of knowing i can't turn off my alarm while driving, or possibly that i wasn't texting at all)

"Oh no it fell."

"It fell?  What were you doing?"

"Turning on my lights... cause you know... it's getting dark, and i like to be careful and such.  See, this is what i was doing with my calendar."

Your doubt was written all over your face as you asked for my license and registration.  I had the ID handy and then started digging through my glove box, so i didn't seem the quite the idiot i usually do when i hand any officer the entire contents of that little compartment since i have no idea what you actually want.

"Are you still at River Street in Santa Cruz?"

"Oh, no i live down here now"

"What's your current address?"

"Oh, it's like 140 or 180 Erik or Aaron or some name in Marina.  But you can send mail to the Santa Cruz address, it all gets forwarded to me in Marina"

"You don't know where you live?"

"Um... i guess not.  I'm only there for like a month so i didn't memorize it.  I know how to get there, though.  Is this the registration?"

"Yes...  So you're a blonde?"

Now please note that i am well aware how awkward and halting my responses have been.  I am trying to conceal my burnt-out headlight from a police officer, and i'm an awkward person to begin with.  So your random question threw and, honestly, offended me.  Were you calling me slow?  "NO!!  I'm a brunette!  Doesn't it say that on there?  I ALWAYS put that i have brown hair.  Here, see i'll show you my other ID, it says my hair's brown."

And then i handed you my Wyoming driver's license.  No, i wasn't thinking that it's illegal (but i did know that) to have two driver's licenses.  I was trying to prove that i wasn't a blonde.

"You have two driver's licenses?"

"See, brown hair."  Because even in the picture on this ID my hair is brown.

"M'am.  Will you please take off you sunglasses?"

"Oh, right.  Of course."  And as you walked away and i listened to NPR (which i had not taken the time to turn down, so it was blaring) i began to think this entire situation over a little bit.  Who blasts NPR in their car?  I realized that being in a rush to turn on my headlights (and in particular my brights) while my sunglasses were still on might have come off as ridiculous.  And i'm a wimp when it comes to being outside without the sunglasses, so i could only squint up at you.  I laughed at you about my "texting" (out of relief and the sheer idea that i, of all uncoordinated people, would even try it).  My phone had been on the floor, and i jerked down to grab it like a psycho.  I didn't know where i live.  I couldn't remember that the photo on my CA ID has blonde hair, and i happen to have a second driver's license.  Wow.

I  was surprised you hadn't made me get out of the car.  I was going to have to be really normal when you came back up here.

"M'am i've written you a citation for texting while driving"

"Oh, i wasn't texting.  I was... Oh right, sorry carry on please."

"This isn't an omission of guilt, but it's a citation for texting while driving.  Please sign on the line.  The paperwork will come in a few weeks."  

"Oh, a few weeks?  That's not....  Ok!"

"Do you have any questions?"

"Um... no?"  I totally did, but I didn't know if that was normal.  "Should i?"

"Really?"

"No.  No i don't have any questions."  I was sure that i wasn't supposed to have questions.  And there was a handy phone number on my yellow paper since i did.  I would ask them if we could expedite this process since i'm leaving.  But i didn't want to add any stuff to the already long list of reasons why i seem like a dangerous person (like i'm fleeing the country with no forwarding address) and giving you any more reason to arrest me.

"Thank you for your cooperation."

"Thank you for your time."  And then you gave me the strangest look.  "Well, i'm not going to thank you for the ticket."

You didn't just drive away immediately.  You sat there in your car while i put everything away and watched me.  This was the first time that had ever happened to me when pulled over, and i was nervous.  Were you waiting to pull me over again for the headlight and possible intoxicated driving?  I tried to seem as normal as possible as i neurotically put everything back (i hate to lose things in my purse) where it belongs.

I promise you, i wasn't texting.  And i'm not as crazy as i may have seemed.  But thank you for not arresting me.  And for giving me both my IDs back.  And for either not noticing my headlight, or choosing to ignore it for my sake.

Hopefully at least this will make a decent "this one time, i pulled over a crazy person and let her go" story.

alison