Reflections on Diversity: Ew, I'm such an American snob!

While I was home for the holidays people kept asking me why I haven’t posted on my blog in a long while.  I guess when I first got here I was 1) bored, and 2) having a difficult time adjusting to my new life as an islander.   This blog is like my non-private journal that I share with everyone who cares to read it.  It’s really kind of nice to be able to write something out and then send it off into oblivion, and it’s just me and my thoughts.  It really helped me release some frustrations and get through the difficult times.  For that I am grateful.

            One of my favorite things about traveling is observing the different cultures, although usually it’s only for a short vacation.  There is something special when you LIVE amongst a different culture for an extended period of time, you see things within the culture that you wouldn’t have learned at first glance.  I didn’t realize it at the time but living in Spain for a semester at the age of 20 changed me profoundly in ways I didn’t fully understand until much later and I’m sure altered the course of my life in many ways.  Now that I’m here 10 years later going through a very similar experience, I’m thinking about how living on this island has changed me after 8 months….

            The diversity on this island has changed me.  In my classroom of 23 kids there is a pretty equal split between cultures; some are islander, English, American, French, Canadian, Indian, and Dutch.  We speak English in the classroom but I hear most children speaking with their parents in another language as well.  These are parents from different countries who have relocated here, and many of the children spend significant amounts of time abroad in their parent’s country of origin. The thing that stands out to me is the whole-hearted tolerance everyone seems to have for others of a different culture.  It is embraced, it is a non-issue, it is friendly, it is open, it is inclusive.  It feels different than the states.  I’m not saying American is racist, but it feels much more segregated and judgmental back home.  I’m using the word “feels” specifically because I think everyone talks as though they are cool with diversity but there is a feeling I get that contradicts that.  And I know I’m not alone.  I’ve had conversations where non-Americans have told me they feel judged when visiting the US because of their accent or also noticed the segregation.  Growing up in “progressive”, “liberal” California I experienced issues with race.  I went to a mostly white school, racial groups stuck together in the quad during lunch and I was called a “traitor”, and “a “coconut” by the Mexican girls because most of my friends were white.  That doesn’t seem to happen here.

            I love America and in many ways I think it’s the best country to live in.  However, I’m very aware here that we as a whole are viewed as snobby and intolerant by other cultures.  And I understand why.  I hear other Americans constantly talking about how everything is better in the states (I admit I am sometimes guilty of this too).  I hear other Americans judging and even teasing kids who have accents.  It makes me sad that this is the way we are viewed.  It makes me sad that if I dig deep down there is a little of that judgment inside me too.  I think it’s engrained in us at a young age that being different is bad.  And I’m embarrassed by that.  Especially seeing that that is not how the kids here are being raised.

            Being here is opening my eyes a little bit, and I’m working towards being more tolerant and not automatically thinking how much better America is.  Hopefully I won’t lose all of that when I get home.  But I doubt it because even though I realize it and I don’t like it, I really am just another American snob.  And when I went home over the break I felt it felt rich and wonderful and I didn’t want to come back. So I’m a work-in-progress J

My new job

Ok, I know it’s been a long time since my last post….the thing is when a lot of stuff is going on I seem to have nooooo motivation to write, enuf said! Forgiven?

 I had a glorious week in California, which was filled with a whirlwind of friends, family, food, and P90X with my brother Michael.  YES, P90X ON MY VACATION!!!! I AM AMAZING!!!  Anywho, then I came home and it was Josh’s birthday so we had some fun, shortly after that I got a call and bam I was offered a last minute position as a teacher’s aid at LU….been working my arse off ever since.  Let me just say, I cannot believe how hard it is to work with little kids all day!  I make about 1/3 of my old salary and I work 10 times as hard ( wait those stats sounds somewhat familiar…”UCLA cost 1/3 of the price for 10x the education as USC”…that’s right, college.  Oh how I miss thee).  So yeah, now I get up at the ass crack of dawn (actual time 6am, but that IS early… back at home in research we had to be at work by 9:30 am and that was a GUIDELINE).  My entire day is spent telling 23 four-year-olds 100x/day things like “stay in your seat”, “raise your hand”, “stand in line”…I don’t get why they are all such little idiots, I mean this is common sense.  Today I was helping this very cute little annoying 4 year old how to spell his name, and it was taking a while, and all the while 6 other little kids at his table were like shaking me and interrupting “Ms Lyssa, Ms Lyssa, Ms Lyssa!”  WHAT?!!! “Umm, ummm, I like your dress”  Thank you, now color your fucking picture.  And stay in the lines!  “Umm, Ms Lyssa, Ms Lyssa!”  What?! “ Um, um, I like your nail polish”.  What are you fucking ignored at home and I’m your only chance for conversation???  I’ll tell ya it’s good birth control though!

Well, to be completely honest those little buggers are annoying as balls but they are really cute and I adore them (first thing in the morning before they have had a chance to annoy me).  J

                 Me taking shots with two of my coworkers from my new job, I understand why teachers must drink after work!

This was the fishbowl we drank for Josh's birthday!

 Awesome little place in Grande Case we went for Josh's birthday where you can have a drink with your feet in the water....must return.

 In California, eating steak with friends...nothing puts a smile on my face like steak!  And Bill and Raul!

 My little neice and I, awwwwww. Miss her!

This is how med students spend their time off...work hard, play hard.

My girls

I am headed out to California shortly (YAY!)  and as soon as I get back I have a job interview at the American private school here on the island, Learning Unlimited or LU for short.  I’m very excited at the prospect of having a full-time job to keep me busy and to feel like I’m doing something meaningful.  I’ve always been interested in teaching and I would love the opportunity to take a stab at it!  However, I also feel a bit sad that if I take on a full-time job it will cut down on my social activities with the other spouses.  One thing that has made this whole transition one hundred times easier has been the other girls on this island that I have made friends with.  There is nothing like girlfriends to talk to, hang out with, and who understand exactly what you’re going through.  Also, it’s unique to have so many friends who live just 5 minutes away.  It’s a tight-knit community over here.  I love how I run into people I know constantly on the street, stop to chit-chat, gripe about the weather, etc, etc.  We hang out at each other’s houses, watch movies to pass the time, take group trips to the grocery store, swim at the pool, work out together, keep each other company in the Rotunda when the electricity is out, go out for coffee or lunch, and so forth.  There are a couple spouses who are pregnant, they help each other out going to appointments together and share lists of what they cannot eat.  There are spouses with small children, they help each other out with babysitting and finding baby stuff on the island.  There are spouses who like happy hours and they help each other out in that department too J  I’m so glad we chose to come to this school where there are so many spouses and support for us.  One of the main reasons Josh chose this school was because he felt I would have an easier time adjusting on a bigger island with more to do and at a school that took such good care of their spouses.  It has made a world of difference and I’m so glad to have a husband who puts my needs at such a high priority without even being asked.  I'm so lucky to have found such a wonderful man to spend my life with!

Here are some pictures of the girls and I...

Happy 51st

Today my dad would have turned 51.  I just randomly realized that just now.  It made me start thinking of what I remember about him.  I remember that he used to call me his little tadpole J  I remember he had a yellow mountain bike and when my brother Kash was a baby he had a little seat on the back of it….we would all take bike rides together around the neighborhood which I loved.  We would go get ice cream after dinner, his favorite flavor was strawberry and I liked to copy him.  He used to have me pluck the gray hairs out of his head while we watched TV because he didn’t want to look old.  Every time he called he would say “Can I please speak to the beautiful Lyssa Marie?” and I would say “Yeeeeees J”.  We used to have long talks about life, he would give me advice about my future career (I wanted to be a lawyer at the time) and the importance of networking…which came in handy later J  He got me a credit card when I was 13 and talked about building a good credit history. He would talk about how great it would be if I went to UCLA and I could come live with him in his new house while I attended college (that commute would have atrocious!).  When I told him I was trying out for the cheerleading squad he said “No, all the cheerleaders I knew in high school were sluts” (DAD!!!).  He took me to eat Chinese food for the first time. In general, he always encouraged me to try new things.  He first taught me the phrase “Let’s play it by ear”, I can remember asking him what it meant, and now I say it all the time. And he was absolutely HORRIFIED that I was beginning to date boys. 

Feeling more settled.

I think the “difficulty adjusting” period is coming to a close for me. Hopefully!  Actually, this is exactly what I anticipated…I predicted there would be a honeymoon period where it felt new and exciting, like being on vacation.  Then it would sink in that we are not going home, this is really going to be my new home.  That part is difficult, you mourn the old things you’re going to miss from home, simple American luxuries that you took for granted.  However, I’m beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I’m getting used to the way things work here, and working around the obstacles.  The girls here are starting to feel more like friends and less like strangers.  I’m finding my routine.  I’m adapting to the heat. Not quite so bored.  Even those skeetos seem to have finally left me alone J   

We already have less than a year and a half left and I think about what I will miss when we leave. Surprisingly, I’m going to miss the sudden rainstorms.  I just love when out of nowhere it starts POURING, I love the sound of the rain.  Except for that one time I got caught in a downpour carrying tons of groceries, and when I finally made it up 3 flights of stairs I found my laptop soaked by the window…that caused a little bit of a freak-out for me. 

Although, I have not been through a hurricane yet, we will see how I feel about the rain then!  Yesterday the university sent out an email to all students saying “oh by the way, it’s hurricane season…make sure we know where you live, your island phone number and an emergency contact back home”.  I found it a little unsettling J

The Standardized Patient

Yesterday I started training to become a Standardized Patient for Josh’s school.  The school hires spouses to train and become a pretend patient for their clinical training course.  Basically we are given an identity complete with symptoms and personality that we are to act out while the students are graded on their interviewing and patient care skills.  We give feedback about what it was like to be their patient…”When I said ‘anal sex’ you smiled and it made me feel uncomfortable”…that sort of thing.

It’s pretty cool, I’m in a class with a handful of other spouses that I know from the Spouses Organization.  For our first class our instructor had us act out some doctor-patient scenes to gauge our acting range.  We got pick whatever symptoms we wanted.  I pretended to be a patient with an itchy rash first.  Then I tried a patient with post-partum depression.  It was fun.  It’s kind of ironic that I lived in LA for 7 years and then moved to St. Maarten to start my acting career J

Bored.

Ok I’m definitely going a little crazy now, we’ve been here almost two months and I’m BORED.  The last two days I basically sat around my hot apartment all day twiddling my thumbs.  I count down the hours until it’s time to make dinner.  I do the dishes like 3 times a day.  I do laundry every other day.  I check my email a 100 times daily but there just not enough emails coming through. I go to the gym which gives me a little sense of purpose to my morning, but even then I’m done by 9am. I have a bunch of girlfriends through the Spouses Organization but even they cannot entertain me 24-7.  I veg out on Sex and the City DVDs.  I feel bad that I’m wasting my time.  I could be building my website, or writing a book, or looking into getting licensed in NYC, or volunteering or something constructive, but I’m not.  I’m in a slump.  I need a routine.  I need a real J-O-B.  I want to feel like I’m making real money and contributing to our little family, I miss that.

            I was telling Josh the other day that I’m bored, have nothing to do and he was like “wow, that sounds nice”.  He is so busy he looks at me and thinks it would be nice to sit around all day with nothing to do.   I look at him and think it would be nice to work so hard, to have that sense of purpose and accomplishment.  I guess the grass is always greener.

The good news is I’m pretty sure this will be short term, I’ve applied for a teaching position and I have some prospects in the works so I’m hoping something will work out to fill my time during the day.  Until then, I’m going to complain to you folks J I’m 100% percent sure that once I have a job again I’ll be wishing I were back sitting at home with no responsibilities.

Here’s the thing… I think you have to be busy to fully appreciate having nothing to do.  I think you have to be poor to fully appreciate having money.  I think you have to date bad guys to fully appreciate a good one.  I think you have to experience the bad days to fully appreciate the good days.  That’s just life. In my opinion.

Eye-roll

I haven’t written a post in a about a week, mostly because I was having a bit of an emotional struggle last week (largely due to PMS).  PMS mood swings are weird, it’s like taking a little something you’re bothered by and then adding crack to it.  Luckily it only lasts a couple days.  I’ve just been having a bit of a rough time adjusting these past couple weeks.  When I first got here it felt like I had a lot of things to do, I had work from home, coffee cart a few days a week, lots of Spouse’s Org events, new friends to meet, things to learn about the island.  Then June came and it’s like someone hit the brakes. I turned in my assignment from home and haven’t gotten anything else from them to work on…hopefully not because they realized I have horrible writing skills J  Coffee cart shifts slowed to once a week.  It feels like my life only consists of sitting around our quiet apartment all day, grocery shopping, cooking, laundry, cleaning, going to the gym, maybe hanging out for a bit with a friend.  I’m literally a housewife.  And I feel like if I can complain people are like “(eye roll) Whatever, you are hanging out on a beautiful island with your husband, you don’t have to work, I want your life”.  I feel guilty because that’s what I would have said.  I imagine myself sometimes in LA, sitting at my desk, looking at some pain in the ass friend of mine on facebook complaining about her boring little tropical life wishing I could trade with her and she could come work 8 hours a day at the VA.  Thinking that if I were her I’d be reading tons of books, maybe writing a book, maybe trying some internet therapy, maybe working at a school…oh the possibilities seem endless.  But in reality I feel like I’m stuck in a bit of a rut.  I would like to be doing those things but I can’t seem to find the motivation. 

This week, life doesn’t seem so bleak.  I’m determined to find something meaningful to do with my time on this island. I’ve applied for a teaching position at a local private school and I’m hopeful I’ll get it.  That would keep me busy and give me something new to complain about J  In 10 years I see myself working in a small private practice part-time doing psychotherapy, as well as teaching a couple community college classes to mix things up a bit.  If I could get a job teaching at a school it would be great because it could get some experience and see if it’s something I would like.  Plus it’s kinda nice that it’s only for a year so if I hate it, I don’t have to go back.

29, one of the best years of my life!

Well today is my last day in my twenties.  I think absolutely 29 was the very best year of my life, now I know why my grandmother chooses to turn 29 every year J  I spent many wonder days of this past year hanging out with friends, having dinner parties, BBQing, and drinking margaritas on the deck of our little apartment in Santa Monica.  We watched 3 of our good friends get married.  We vacationed in Kauai.  I got engaged and married to THE MOST WONDERFUL MAN IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. I gained a new mom, dad, step-parents and brother…all wonderful in-laws, I feel so lucky. I ran a marathon, which is one of the most amazing feelings I’ve ever experienced!  We sold all of our belongings.  I drove across the country for the first time. And I moved to the beautiful island of St Maarten in the Caribbean.  And I became an aunt.

What an adventure, I don’t know if I can top that.

Tomorrow I begin my new adventures as a thirty-something year old woman!  A lot of women get very nervous about turning 30.  I think it’s going to be a wonderful decade…we will be settling into our careers, we’re married, we will start a family, will live in different cities, travel, and hopefully buy a house (if we’re lucky and can afford to with all the crazy student loan payments we’re going to have to pay every month J).  Thirty here I come!

(We took this picture minutes after Josh proposed, one of my happiest moments J)

Kaydence…my new niece.

Yesterday morning I got a call early from my mother, I knew something was up because it’s even earlier on the west coast…  “I have some news,….(extra-long pause, during which my mind races with all the juicy possibilities)… your brother has a 5 month old daughter”.  “Um, excuse me?!  Which brother? How?”.  Turns out my oldest brother Jovani found out the night before, through a paternity test, that he was in fact the biological father of a 5 month old little girl named Kaydence.  Absolutely, no warning just bam we have a baby in our family now.  The first grandchild. I’m an aunt. Here’s where I’ll admit I’m a little jealous, that I’ve got 6 years on my oldest brother and I didn’t get to supply the first grandchild.  I kinda knew that was going to happen because Josh and I won’t start trying until I’m 34 and that’s a little late but never-the-less it stings just a little bit.  I know, I’m a total brat J

The good news is now my mother is a grandmother just like she’s been wanting, so the pressure is off me J 

It’s weird to suddenly be an aunt though with no 9 months to get used to the idea.  It’s kind of a shock.  I really want to meet her but I just left California and we won’t be back for a visit until Christmas.  By then she’ll be almost a year old.  Everyone will get to know her and we’ll be auntie Lyssa and uncle Josh off in the Caribbean.  I’m realizing that being away from family will be hard, especially when we all start having kids. 

Here are a few pictures of my beautiful new niece, Kaydence Grace…

Moving is not fun.

       Yesterday we moved into a different apartment, a studio with a loft.  Part of the reason we took the old studio is we really wanted to live at Tradewinds which has a good reputation of being a safe and nice building, and not screwing you out of your deposit at the end of you stay.  Also we knew our landlords had a bigger studio with a loft becoming available after the first semester that we would have first dibs on.  When it became available after only a month I was excited, our old apartment wasn’t bad but the bed took up a large part of our living space and the furniture was kind of stiff. We didn’t have a full-sized fridge, no oven and no ventilation in our kitchen (and for someone who likes to cook this is a problem).  Now we have much more space, enough space now for an air mattress in our living room for those of you who want to visit.  Our new place is on the top floor, which is a lot more private.  I just hate living on the bottom floor where people walk by and look into your windows.  We have windows on both sides of our apartment now so the tradewinds can breeze through and cool down the place, and from the right side of the breakfast bar you can see the ocean J 

            Two wonderfully nice and generous friends of mine, Allie and Jackie, offered to help me move.  I said no thank you, we came with only 2 bags a piece I think I can handle it on my own.  So I sent Josh off to study and began my little task for the day.  Boy oh boy did I underestimate what a pain in the butt moving would be!  I do this every single time I move.  Lesson never learned.  We didn’t really have boxes so I made a hundred little trips up and down 3 flights of stairs in hot and humid weather (actual trips, probably closer to say 10 but 100 adequately captures my level of exhaustion).  Josh came home and was like, “Did you move anything?” and I was like “Um, I’m going to have to kill you if you make comments like that”.  So he helped with the really big stuff, which did not put him in the happiest of moods.  Needless to say it was a very trying evening and we’re still not finished.  Josh is not at all happy right now that we decided to move L

Here are pictures of our  new place…

Work is just work?

When Josh first asked me if I would go with him to the Caribbean, I was like “um, go hang out on a beautiful island for 2 years and not have to work?  Hell ya!”  People asked me “You’re going to leave your job?  But you love your job.  What if you do long distance for two years until he’s back in the states?”  To me the answer was simple I love this man, I want to spend the rest of my life with him, nothing makes me happier than to be around him, and yes I love my job but it’s still just a job.  Work is still work, it’s not THAT fun.  Still he was very concerned about me leaving my career behind to follow his dreams.  Now I have a full understanding of why he felt this was such a big sacrifice, because I’m not really the kind of girl who likes to sit around and be on vacation for 2 years.  I didn’t fully realize but a whole lot of my self-identity is wrapped up in what I do for a living.  In the Mexican culture our mantra is “We work to live, not live to work”, and I’m a big believer in enjoying life and not missing it because of work.  However there’s another side of me that is ambitious. I want a career that fulfills me, one that I can be proud of and help people.  Without that there is a little piece of me missing.  Sure I have little side jobs to keep me busy, but it’s not quite the same.  I’m not working towards my long term goals of having a private practice of my own and teaching at a community college part-time.  Everything feels on hold.  And when I look to the future it feels as though things will never go back to the way they used to be, because for the next 4 years I’m going to be following my husband to where ever his clinicals are and then to where ever his residency is.  After that we want to start a family.  I used to be single, I used to live my life just for me….now I’ve started my own family, and for the first time I’m truly realizing just what that is going to mean. 

Rapture

Today is supposed to be The Rapture, where the world supposedly ends, or at least that is what I heard on Facebook.  I definitely don’t believe in that kinda stuff, however it did make me think, what would I do if today really was my last day on earth?

Josh said he would be very pissed that he spent his final day on earth studying for monday’s block exams.  Personally, I don’t think working towards your dream with your beautiful wife by your side is a bad way to go J  He said he’d rather spend the day cuddling with me watching a movie….aw, now is that not the greatest husband in the world or what!

If I had to design my final day this is how it would go…We’d be in our little Santa Monica apartment snuggling all morning in bed.  Walk down to the coffee shop and sit out on the patio drinking some sort of 900 calorie blended coffee drink that I usually don’t allow myself to have and read in the sun.  I would interrupt Josh every few minutes to tell him something funny about my book or some random thought that passes through my mind, he hates that but I love it J  We’d have all our good friends over that evening for a BBQ out on our deck, tofu satays for our veggie friends and a big juicy ribeye steak for me.  We would spend the evening talking, laughing, listening to music, and drinking wine.  We would get a little too tipsy causing a dance party to break out on the deck, just like on my (28^th?).  Finish the night off with cigars and scotch by the firepit talking about how we should do this more often.  It would look kinda like this…

Fifteen years ago today

Fifteen years ago today my father died.  As of now I’ve been living longer without him than I did with him.  It was a Monday morning.  I was in high school, nearing the end of my freshman year, in my Physical Education class.  They called me out, told me to change, that there’s been an emergency and my mother was coming to pick me up.  That’s about the worst thing someone can say, that something has happened but not what.  For the next 20 minutes or so I ran through the scenarios in my head.  I think my aunt was pregnant at the time and I thought maybe she’d had the baby and they wanted to take me to the hospital to see it.  I concluded that was unlikely.  I knew in my gut that someone was either dying or had already died.  And this part I feel guilty about, I thought about who I could stand to lose and who I couldn’t.  I knew my mother was safe, because they said she was coming to get me.  I never thought it would be my dad, never even ran through my head.  I remember the lady in the office wouldn’t look at me.  My mom came in with my stepdad to sign me out.  She looked like she had been crying and my stepdad looked somber.  It seemed like an eternity from the moment they got there until we walked out of the office, I could barely stand it.  My mom told me in the hallway.  It had been a car accident the night before but they’d only found him that morning.  It was a shock.  To this day I can’t remember a time in my life when I felt worse than that very moment.  Right now I feel shaky inside even writing this post.  I don’t often think of the details of that morning like I am now that I’m writing it out.  But I think it’s good to allow the feelings to wash over me instead of trying to fight them, I did that for too long and I don’t think you can really process things if you don’t allow yourself to feel the pain.  At least that’s what I used to tell my patients in therapy.  Although at this point, I’m positive the pain never truly goes away.  But that’s a good thing, people live in our hearts forever and so they are never truly gone.

I miss you dad.

Love,

The Beautiful Lyssa Marie

Planned for the worst

I had been a little nervous about moving here.  Every thing happened so fast…one minute we’d just got engaged the next we were married, selling all our belongings and moving to the Caribbean for two years.  I mean I knew for about 2 years that Josh was applying to some schools in the Caribbean and that I would go with him but it seemed like some far away distant option that probably wouldn’t happen.  In the end it did happen, we made the final decision that we were really going to go about 8 weeks before we left.  Eight weeks is not a lot of time to leave your job, say goodbye to friends and family, and move out of the country.  On top of that I was nervous about being a newlywed and having us plucked out of our happy Santa Monica lives where we have plenty of free time to spend together and stranded on a tropical island where he is stressed and has no free time and I have no friends or family or job.  I was afraid it was going to be a major adjustment having him so busy all the time and I’d be lonely and bored and possibly depressed.  Luckily it has not been nearly as bad as I was prepared for.  Yes, he’s busy and stressed, and ALWAYS studying but I see him for lunch and dinner and sometimes he studies at home while I read.  Something about working from home makes me feel like he’s still spending time with me even though he’s in his office working.  It’s only been 3 weeks but I’m feeling optimistic that our relationship can definitely handle medical school and I’m not going to be the sad little wife sitting at home missing her husband wishing we were back to our old Santa Monica lifestyle.  This new life will do just fine.  I’m getting used to short showers, sudden rain storms, humidity, an almost non-existent salary, new friends and skyping with friends and family.  Not the skeetos though, I’m still at war with those skeetos!

Lyssa versus The Skeetos

I’m sitting here in our little living room…the lights are dimmed, there is a glow from the office where Josh is working, I can see his computer from here, he’s looking at slides of cells and a bit ago there was a slide of a vagina and I teased him about enjoying his studies.  The whole front part of our apartment is lined with windows (the slit kind where you have to crank the handle to turn them up), they are all open and a breeze is flowing through our transparent white curtains.  I can hear sounds coming from outside, some sort of animal I have no idea which kind, maybe grasshoppers.  When the windows are open, which is often because it’s like 85 degrees everyday here, you can hear everything that happens outside.  For instance, all afternoon I listened to two gardeners carry on a conversation for 3 hours in a language I didn’t understand.  I was trying to figure out if it was Dutch, or some sort of islander dialect, or English even with a heavy accent.  I don’t know how they got any work done between all the gabbering. 

Josh just yelled to me that he doesn’t think our mosquito light zapper thingy is working because he just killed two mosquitos himself and I think I might have just lost the will to LIVE.  These mosquitos are attacking my sanity. They’ve won many battles and I think they are going to take the war.  I was optimistic but that’s fading quickly. That zapper was my last hope! Today I had to go down to the pharmacy because I had two bites that had swollen to 2-3 inches in diameter and were itching and burning so much that I couldn’t stand it anymore.  I must be allergic and there must be some sort of mutated heavy duty mosquitos that live around here.  The pharmacist gave me antihistamines and told me to take two which helped but my guess is that it’s temporary relief unless I want to be doped up on antihistamines for the next year and a half.  Josh, on the other hand, has been bit like once.  Good for him. I’ve decided that 20 months is about as long as my sweet blood and I will ever live on a tropical island.

Other than that, I’m adjusting well J

Escape.

Sometimes when things are difficult I have these thoughts, like what if I hoped on a plane back to LA drove to Santa Maria walked right into my parents home and into the arms of my mother who is safe and nurturing and loving and I can be a kid again.  Because the truth is sometimes I feel like I’m only just a kid.  Sometimes I want to be back in that space where things are easy and comfortable.  That’s the yin.  The yang in me says no, get out of your comfort zone, see the world, don’t settle, challenge yourself…or else it’s not a life.  The  theme always running through my head is always to live your life so you will have no regrets in those last moments just before you die and you can say, yes I lived and loved and I was happy and it was a good life.  I think I think this way largely because my dad died suddenly at an early age, he was only 36, and now that I am turning 30 I understand just how young that really is.  So I know we can go suddenly at any time.

Nearing the anniversary of his death, thoughts of him always creep into my thoughts just like they creeped into this post that started with me just having feelings of wanting to escape.  It’s nearing 15 years and this anniversary is significant to me because it begins the point where I have now been without him longer than I was with him.  That’s significant for some reason.  I don’t know why.

Okay now I’m starting to think all those thoughts that make me sad, like he’ll never meet my husband, he never knew that I traveled and went to UCLA just like he dreamed, he won’t know his grandchildren, and I never got to be friends with him the way an adult child eventually does with their parents and learn who he was inside… instead of thinking these things I’m going to think about how grateful I am that his death made me appreciate life.  I’m going to continue trying to live my life to the fullest to honor him.  That’s the best I can do.

I miss you dad, spending 15 years without you has sucked balls big time!