Airport Check-in: Done

I'm sitting at my airport gate with emotions a-plenty. From the moment I got out of the car and hugged my mom goodbye, it sunk in (finally) that I won't be home for a while. Feelings of anxiety and "what the hell did I get myself into", partially only subsided by the Xanax that I took for that very reason. My checked baggage was too heavy. They measure in kilos so I'm not sure how much I was over, but it cost me $85. Ouch. There was no other option, but it confirmed my suspicion that I over-packed.

My morning started with a cup of coffee in the early AM Seattle sun (this is a rarity, in case you didn't know) and basked in the reality that everything I know is about to change. I put my final touches on packing and went with my mom to get a pedicure (our "us" time, and very suiting for the final hours). I've had the nerves since I woke up, but they really set in when I walked into the airport and away from my home. I tried to take deep breaths and keep tears from pouring from my eyes (I kept reminding myself that raccoon eyes look good on no one), and slowly but surely some of that subsided - - again, partially or majorly thanks to Xanax. My stomach feels upset and topsy turvy, but once I'm on the plane, I plan to pop a Dramamine and sleep it out. I will be arriving in Reykjavik, Iceland at 6:45 AM (obviously local time), although it will be late night to me. I'm hoping the excitement can hold me over for my 2.5 hour flight to Paris from there!! I can't imagine arriving in Paris and it feels all too-weird.

Today has just been surreal, so it's hard to even imagine the next few days when I'm overtaken with a new culture, a new place, and a new life. Fingers crossed and prayers said.

And the nausea sets in...

Ever since I could remember, I met anxiety with feelings of nausea and the so-called "butterflies". I used to vomit before birthday parties and on the first day of school. I just couldn't handle all of the excitement. Well, true to form, a good 27 hours before my plane leaves for
Paris, I have a case of the stomach flips - - at the moment it's mixed with a hunger and is excruciatingly uncomfortable. I am making a pizza so that should cure one of the problems, but I know me... the butterflies will keep flapping in my tummy, most likely giving me a case of insomnia when I lay down tonight.

My friend Nicole, who's meeting me in Paris asked me to bring Peanut Butter for her. She says she misses it like crazy and it really made me think of all of the random comfort blankets here at home that I am going to miss!! Most of all, I'm worried about missing Ethan - the world's sweetest brother and most precious human being. This morning I crawled into bed with him and snuggled. I gave him hugs and kisses and tried to take mental pictures of his precious face to hold onto. Not seeing him everyday, or even every week is going to be a real challenge for me.

Pizza is ready. Better go take care of my famished stomach.

The loss of Butter... Melting our heart till the very end

Tonight we lost our dog of 12 years, Butter. She was a gentle giant, a quiet spirit with more loyalty than you could ever ask for in a k-9 companion. She got her name after my stepdad saw her at an adoption fair, where he said she "melted [his] heart like butter". She was 6 months old and a beautiful mix of Labrador and German shepherd, although the exact mix was never actually determined. She was a wild puppy and quite the terror, destroying bedrooms, rolling around in mud and chewing through walls, earning her the nickname "Knuckles" because my mom always said she was going to give her a "knuckle sandwich". After some obedience training and years of patience, she transformed into the World's Best Dog. She always let us know when she needed to go outside and only let the ferocity out when a stranger knocked at the door. Butter cried out of happiness when she saw her loved ones or heard music... I remember fondly her loud notes when I practiced my clarinet in middle school - she didn't mind for a moment that I was off-note and pitch.

For years she lied beside my parents bed, faithfully and protectively until she aged to the point of sore joints preventing her from going up the stairs. She loved her crate, she loved her bed, but most of all, she loved us. Ever-hopeful of a petting and some attention, she was the most appreciative of souls... a 5 minute nuzzle and praise would last her all day.

When we knew she was sick, we were on one-hand grateful that we received 12 loving years from her, but at the same time, it still felt too soon. As we wipe tears from her eyes and try to accept her loss, we rejoice in the fact that she was ours. It will sink in slowly but surely, as we come home and her tail isn't wagging in the doorway, as she doesn't let out her sweet cries of joy, as dinner time comes and her food goes untouched. We will grieve, we will move on, and we will feel blessed to have her in our lives. "Old Rickety", we cannot wait to see you again on the other side.

A breakthrough for the sake of breakthroughs...

If you see my "sister blog" you will see that I had a breakdown. A long-ago adopted blog title has been my year. I moved to Seattle, Washington, following my family and the hope for an exciting beginning, close to a year ago now. I left behind the man I thought I would marry, in desperate hopes that he would follow me and this time, bring a ring. I thudded to a harsh reality when I saw the truth in what he had been telling me: he was not ready to commit to me. After tears upon tears and feelings of betrayal and loneliness, I am still struggling these 9 months later to let go. Let go of any hope that he is the one for me, and let go of the relationship that I thought we'd always share. The worst part about the heartbreak is that it has been one-sided. I was the only one who imploded on myself and began to question who I was if I wasn't his.

That journey has undoubtedly been the toughest I've gone through. Agonizing, yet self-actualizing. In the midst of this journey, I've experienced a lot of other things (although all minuscule in comparison to the size and weight of my broken heart): I was hired to do a job where I felt I reached a lot of my potential...and fired for being too immature to handle office politics; I got my very first condo, which was a dream home for anyone, and especially for someone of my age...then moved out of it, shortly after being fired; I moved back in with my family only to realize that their problems were things that I am completely useless to resolve, yet forced to sit and watch them pain the people I love.

So here is where I am out now: Headed to Europe on some vagabond-esque journey. I leave in two days and am without a return date, plan to return, or plan of what I'll do after I return. I'm not even so sure of what I'll do while I'm in Europe. This is kind of a crazy, spontaneous, perhaps irresponsible adventure that I'm hoping leads to some grand epiphany or perhaps even a tiny one. Famous authors and philosophers have often discussed the wonders of traveling on the soul and the answers that one can find without even having a question. This is me. Chasing after something to which I have no identification of. I could be the most naive of all fools... Or I could be embarking on something truly wonderful. My hope is in the latter, along with all of my faith in those wise men (and women) who've done this before me and spoken volumes of its results.

I have a "travel blog", but I feel I am most comfortable here. In the silence of not having followers or fans, critics or contenders. Here I can speak to the secrets of my heart, the moments of triumph, the times I feel lost and homesick... Here I can turn inward and express it it outward. Wish me luck...And Cheers!!