A Sidenote to the Very Vacation-y Saga

The reason why my parents made me leave Ireland:

Celtic Fest, 2011. It rained the whole time.

Episode 2: Travel Karma

While I have many Buddhist tendencies (supported, in fact, by legions of therapists who work with eating disorders) I do not believe in karma. It's nice to think that my roommate might return as the same turd that overpowers the sweet smell of my morning oatmeal, but it's simply one spiritual idea that I cannot grasp. Many people choose to believe in those things that bring them the greatest sense of hope and satisfaction. Thinking that I may come back as a roach is much less incentive to do good than seeing the smile on someone's face. Anyway, roaches don't think- how would I even know that I was being punished? Also, roaches don't have to apply for jobs. That's a counter-incentive I don't need polluting my life.

Nevertheless, my inklings toward belief in travel karma were expounded on my recent vacation. I consider myself to be a "good" traveler: I'll take any seat and am willing to stand; I enjoy public transportation; I don't expect to sleep but sometimes can; I give myself plenty of time and stay flexible with my options; I enjoy talking to fellow travelers; and I assume that something will go wrong and therefore do not freak out when it happens. All important things happen in 3s, so it's no surprise that I had three major demonstrations of travel karma during this trip. You may become a believer as well...

1.) Obviously, the airport sprint of my previous post. I'm never late for flights or cut in line. But, at the point of total desperation the seas parted for me like Moses in a storm. How blessed was that?

2.) My friend and I took the bus from Washington D.C. to New York. An hour into the four-hour bus ride the bus mysteriously broke down. Our insane bus driver (who had spent the first five minutes yelling at a customer) jumped off and started muttering things about "computers" and acting exceedingly exasperated. He would re-start the bus and then it would break down and we'd stop again. At every stop he'd mutter and jump out. I did my best to educate the rest of the bus on what was happening, as we were sitting directly in the front and could hear his mutterings. This turned into the "One-Man Emily Stand Up Show" and I felt the trip worthwhile simply because I could entertain the crowd. A little laughter helped (at me or with me, I don't care). I calmed my friend the whole time, telling her to wait and let others take the recovery buses before us; we had nowhere to be and it was fun to sit and chat. Eventually we made it home, relaxed and in one piece.

The next day our tickets were completely refunded for bad service. What do you get when you stay flexible, calm and accepting? Free stuff, my friends.

3.) I was supposed to arrive in Denver on Wednesday evening; my flight was canceled due to rain. Bored and ready to go, I got to the airport two hours early on Thursday, only to find that my flight was indefinitely delayed and I would probably miss my connection. So I surveyed my options and ended up taking two buses to get to Newark where I had a direct connection. All the typical chaos ensued around me: people cut in the bus lines and yelled at bus drivers; there was traffic; things were late/ early; people were stressed. I bounced through the lines and chilled out, making it Newark with time to spare. I got a call from La Guardia saying that I could have made an earlier flight and didn't need to go to Newark. I shrugged it off like a New York Jew. L'Achim.

In the Newark security line I caught eyes with a well-traveled but perky business man. We started chatting. At the end of security he turned to me and asked if I wanted to go to the "Red Carpet Room" with him. Um, yes please? It turns out that the Red Carpet Room is the hotspot for United Airlines frequent flyers. Well, myself, my new friend, and my cheap Southwest Airlines ticket strolled right into the Red Carpet Room like we owned the place. I made a bee-line for the free snacks, filling my purse and the plastic baggies that I always keep with me (free food should never go to waste) with the dinner that got me through the rest of my trip. My friend informed me that the Red Carpet Room also offers free beer and wine. 1.5 glasses later, I've got my resume in his hands, a glass of wine in mine, little bits of cheese and crackers stuck to my lips, and the best view in the house. I spent one of the most enjoyable airport hours of my life that day and got a hilarious new friend with excellent business credentials out of it. Travel karma, people. Live the dream.

To top it all off, I made friends with the girl next to me on the plane. Turns out, she was recovering from an eating disorder and studying to become a psychiatrist. We had a wonderful conversation and she gave me 1/2 of her sandwich. Shortly before she started drinking cocktails, that is. I woke her before we landed.

So, what have we learned today? Smile at strangers and you get free food. Run through airports but only when absolutely necessary. Always give yourself extra time because it will inevitably turn into too little time. And be open, for in the laws of travel karma, you shall receive.

Next Episode: Wandering Alone.

The Very Vacation-y Saga. Episode 1: Full Exposure

Hello, all! Sorry it has taken me so long to get this to you. I'm finding that my life pursuits are shooting like rose petals in a million directions, and while this isn't something I'm unhappy with it makes time management tricky. I've prioritized writing in this blog, where my only followers are apparently in Singapore, underneath some of my other endeavors. But I do love to talk, especially when I don't have to deal with a response. ;)

Of course, the other reason this post was so long coming is because I feel like I've got a lot that I want to say and am unsure about how to say it or what you even care about! So I'll start with the most embarrassing since those posts usually go over well. I will also break up my vacation into shorter articles. I believe this may tease you into reading more and it will make my thoughts much more manageable. Plus, I've always wanted to write short stories.

As you know, I won my Southwest Airlines ticket in a race. My prize was a sort of green receipt with booking instructions. I didn't bring the receipt to the airport as it didn't have any details of my flight information on it; I had my booking ticket and figured that was all they needed. Wrong. When I was informed that I had to get the green receipt to get my booking ticket I was forced to call my mom (who was driving back to work) and have her go to my house, retrieve the green receipt, and bring it back to the airport. Let's do the math. It was 9:16. My flight left at 10:20. It would take my mom 1/2 hour to drive to my house and 1/2 hour to drive back to the airport. That's tighter than Hilary Clinton's...forget it.

I've never looked so much like a terrorist in my life. I went outside to the waiting area and paced like a lion in a cage. I prayed with every bone in my body, saying this: "Fate, I know that you've got whatever planned that you want to give but please throw me a bone here. I'm so grateful for this opportunity and know that I can re-book if I don't make it, but I really just don't want to have to do that. Please let this happen!" I texted my Grandma and friends and had them say a little prayer. And I prayed for the Godspeed and safety of my mother.

She arrived at 10:06 and without stopping the car threw the ticket to me. I ran down to security. With tears in my eyes I begged other people to let me through the line. Shockingly, all did; some even expressed empathy. Of course security asked me to go through the body scan. When I stepped out she pulled me aside for extra screening. People, I was wearing a t-shirt and the lightest skirt known to man. Where, I beg, might I have been holding a grenade? When she motioned me to the side I stammered, "Please, please let me go. My flight leaves in 10 minutes." "10 minutes?" she responded. "The doors are already closed." I pleaded, "Please just let me try!"

I didn't hear her say "Ok" because I was already running barefoot to the trains for the terminals. Over the speaker John Hickenlooper welcomed me to Denver as a simultaneously begged for deliverance and thanked Fate for getting me this far. Escalators are cold on bare feet, but I didn't care. I flashed half of the airport as my skirt flew up when I ran (see any grenades, security lady?). I flew to the gate; it was empty but the door was open. I ran down the ramp. The guy at the end stood there laughing at me, took my ticket, and welcomed me on flight.

Somehow, there was a window seat left. My poor seatmates looked at me very oddly as I exclaimed breathlessly, "Omygod Itotallymadeit! Thatwas like A MOVIE!" and giggled hysterically. What an entrance.

And that's how I made my flight to D.C. I spent the rest of the flight thanking Fate from the bottom of my toes, through my newly exposed behind, and up to the top of my head.

If you've got a bottle of wine send it my mom's way. In fact, I hope one day to buy her a whole liquor store. My only regret is that no one was there to see me stumble, barefoot, through the airport, like I was saving a kitten from a fire. Oh, the drama...

Next Episode: Travel Karma.

Will Post Soon!

Hi, all! I just returned from vacation and have been busy getting back into the swing of things. I realized that it would've been a good idea to note that I was going on vacation- ah, well. I just want you to know that I will post about all the quirky little things that happened to me while in D.C./ New York ASAP, as soon as I've settled a bit!

xoxoxoxo

A Sign of the Times

A tag in my alleyway. Wouldn't it be nice if I could throw my debt in the dumpster?

The Reason I am Still Unemployed

To Whom it May Concern,

I am writing this cover letter to apply for the position of Entry-Level Account Management Support Peon Teammate. I learned of this position through my friend John Johnson, who works as Next-to Entry Level Assistant to the Vice President's Aide. I believe that my natural character and learned skills render me an excellent match with AlmostAwesome Social Marketing, Inc.

To begin with, I have a great deal of experience working with angry clients. The most important action when dealing with unruly customers is to provoke them enough to become unruly in the first place. Had I not sufficiently degraded the quality of the situation, I may never have made them mad and thus learned how to appease them. Secondly, I am very good at completing boring tasks in the least time-efficient way possible. This is achieved by distracting myself in asking unnecessary, ignorant questions to other employees. You will note that this also fulfills the aspect of your job description that asks me to "demonstrate strong communication and team-work skills." I love teams because they allow me to delegate tasks to other members when I do not want to complete them. Moreover, working in teams allows me to blame my mistakes on others. The job description also calls for a detail-oriented and organized employee. One example of my detail-orient is my paying close attention to my Facebook account. I check my Facebook every 20 minutes during the work-day, ensuring that I know exactly what my friends are doing. I organize my responses to them in a logical manner, i.e. I respond to the most juicy gossip items and best party invites first. Finally, you ask me to demonstrate my sales experience. I am in fact completely inept at selling anything at all. However, there are many stupid people currently being paid thousands of dollars to do similar levels of nothing-ness and I therefore believe that I am qualified for this position.

I would like to schedule a time to meet in person so that you may establish that I bathe myself. Feel free to contact me on my MySpace account: 2cute4u2handle@myspace.com. I know that the description asks me not to call with inquiries about the status of my application, but I think that if I bother you enough times you may hire me simply to be rid of my calls. Therefore, I look forward to leaving you a voicemail in a couple of hours.

Thank you for your consideration.

Ending in a Good Place

This post is about trail running. It's really about being nice to yourself, respecting your accomplishments, and taking time to appreciate progress. All the things that I didn't let myself do when I became caught in the continuous quest of success, its overseer (expectations) and its outcome (self-punishment). Its running downhill at the end.

Trail running is a kick in the ass. To complete a trail run, follow these steps: 1.) Find small mountain, peak, or big open hilly space; 2.) Put on running shoes; 3.) Run uphill until you reach the top of the peak, and then maybe around a little bit more; 4.) Run back down.

I love trail running.

I love trail running because I love putting myself in 3rd gear. I love being chased by squirrels and dodging branches and feeling my heart beat in my chest. My lungs fill with the freshest Colorado air. I like trail running with other people, hearing our feet hit the ground and seeing the little pillows of dust fly up. I love it when hikers and mountain bikers look at me like I'm insane. And I love standing at the peak, looking at the gorgeous, green Colorado landscape stretch in front of me.

And then I love the run back down. There's nothing more exhilarating than watching your legs move quickly and freely up the very same mountain that forced you to exhale heavily on every step, the muscles in your legs stiffening with every lift. When you run up a mountain you know that it is very difficult; there's not doubt that you're getting a workout. But when you run back down you realize just how far you went. You see rocks and marvel, "I just jumped over that?!" I don't think that I would have the same sense of accomplishment after my trail runs if I didn't go back down. Surveying one's work after the fact creates a sense of pride and gratification. It's a celebration of one's accomplishments.

In my disease and the years leading up to it I lost the ability to celebrate my accomplishments. I was constantly working to achieve but when I finally reached the end it was never quite good enough or there was something more to do next. I could never just loosen my knees and run downhill, all hell flying lose behind me, laughing at myself.

Today I undertook EMDR therapy for the first time. Its a way of reframing the habitual negative thoughts in one's brain, like placing the old memories in more thoughtful, productive places, or accepting them and moving on completely. Today we found my "safe place," a nice memory that I feel calm within and can recall in times of need. My safe place is the sun-room at my Auntie Val's house, complete with Auntie Val giggling in the corner (she's wearing blue). To complete the EMDR session we opened by imagining my safe place, putting myself there with all my senses aware. Then we recalled a memory of one of the first times my disordered thoughts got a hold of me. Over and over we recalled this memory, recognizing the emotions that came up each time. The session ended where it started: with my Auntie Val in my safe place. "I'm not going to let you leave feeling sad and vulnerable," my therapist said. "Sit here in your safe place and feel proud with the hard work you've done."

It felt like running downhill. All of the sweat and stiffness was whisked away by Auntie Val's bubbling, falling giggle. I saw that I had just put in an incredible amount of effort and I now deserved to feel safe, happy and proud. I took a moment to respect my effort. I left a little lighter than I arrived.

After I'm done with this post I'm going to find a picture for it. Then I'm going to re-read and edit it. Once I'm satisfied with it's content I'm going to re-read it once more. For that final read I'm just going to like it. I'm going to enjoy it and be proud of it. I hope that when you all see it you will enjoy it, too.