And the waiting is the hardest part

I realized something in the past week or so. Being optimistic about the future and having the patience to wait for that bright future are two totally different things. Also, life isn't fair. But as my dad always said, "Nobody said anything about life being fair. But it's worth it."

Shouldn't you be in the other lane?

I'm a terrible backseat driver. Just last night, I had to hold my tongue so I didn't tell a friend I've known for years how to get to my house. She definitely knows where I live and needs no assistance from me. Today as I drove up that same road, I had an epiphany.

When I offer you directions or helpful suggestions while you are driving, it's not because I think you're an idiot who doesn't know where you're going. You're an idiot because you aren't driving the way I would drive.

Living in a Beach Boys song

A few weeks ago I was bored and browsing photography contest websites. I found one that I considered entering, but I ran out of time to compile/take pictures and I was too chicken to enter. But I've been thinking about it ever since. The contest theme was Homeland--where you live now, not necessarily where you were born. So here's what I would have entered and why.

When I was eight years old, my dad bought a cassette tape of Endless Summer by the Beach Boys. I loved it. My siblings and I would bring our tape player out and blast "Surfin' Safari" as we roller skated in the driveway. And even though I only knew the "inside outside U.S.A." part of the chorus of "Surfin U.S.A.", I sang along with gusto.

A few years ago I decided I was going to learn the real chorus. As I read the lyrics, I discovered that they were listing surfing beaches. Not only that, I had been to many of those beaches, or at least knew where they were and had driven past in the last year or so. I was living in a Beach Boys song.

In a nutshell, that's what makes this place so special to me. We do have an endless summer, with 80-degree days in December and sunshine almost every day. I've always loved the ocean, and now I can be at the beach with my toes in the sand in 10 minutes. I love the craziness of the beach on a big summer weekend. But more than that, I love the quieter months when I can enjoy the waves without the crowds. That's why I love my homeland.

Lessons Learned in Europe

My sister is a rock. She kept me from completely panicking on more than one occasion.
I do not react well to cigarette smoke.
Guidebooks are just opinions.
Don't fly Ryanair out of Ciampiano.
Spaniards are very enthusiastic people.
Three museums in one day is kind of insane, but doable.
You can get by just fine by pointing at menu items. Hand gestures work too.
The Pantheon and Eiffel Tower really do exist and are just as cool as you imagine they are.
A pear and two hot rolls don't count as breakfast and lunch.
Game shows are funnier if you don't understand them.
Maps are a good thing.
I don't know enough about history, art, music, or anything, really.
Food is better in its native country.
I like European chocolate, Gaudi, and Strauss.
Jet lag is crazy. Tylenol PM helps.
My sister and I look like sisters.
Metros and buses are awesome. Why don't we use them more here?
The world is an amazing place and I can't wait to see more.

A Realization

Ever since I graduated from college, I've been in the process of becoming a grown up. Getting a real job. Insuring my own car. Having my own cell phone plan. Paying bills like cable and gas. Working on my birthday. Planning trips to Europe.

For some reason this trip has stressed me out considerably. I want it to go well. No, I want everything to be perfect, but I know that won't happen, so I'll settle for it going well. My sister, who I'm taking the trip with, has been busy with school and such, and we decided that it would be easier if everything were in my name anyways. So I bought the plane tickets and booked the hotels. All that grown up activity has made me weary of being a grown up.

Tonight I'm packing and stressing about packing too much or too little and making lists of things to do tomorrow (get cash, convert cash to Euros, buy power adapter, sort out credit card, mail a package to my mom, pay all bills...). I took a break for yogurt with a friend. I said I was tired of being a grown up. He said that it's better than the alternative (and he would know). And I realized something: it's not being a grown up that I'm tired of. I like the freedom and the money and the accountability of it. I'm tired of being a grown up alone.

Hey, Honey! What's the Latest Buzz?

About a month ago, I heard a strange buzzing noise at work. I was in the office by myself that morning, so there was no one else to notice. There were some grounds crew guys using leaf blowers, so I assumed that's what I heard and wrote it off.

But the next day, it was back. Louder. And the next day. It wasn't a constant buzzing noise; just every once in a while. Enough to break my concentration and really annoy me. After about two weeks of that, I couldn't handle it any more. I felt a little silly complaining to the receptionist to have her complain to the powers that be about something so simple as an annoying buzzing, but it was loud enough that I could hear it above the music coming through my headphones. Too loud. My office mate has been watching all the seasons of Lost, so her theory was that it was the Others coming to get us. I had thought it was a little lost bee, but bees don't live that long.

Turns out I was sort of right. The next time the noise happened, I climbed up on the desk and payed attention. When the noise ended, something long, black, and yellow crawled out of a space in the corner where the window frame and wall meet. I emailed the receptionist again, this time telling her what was making the noise. She said they were going to send someone out to spray for the nasty critters.

Trouble is, they didn't go away. We could still hear them, building their nest, throwing wild rave parties... it got old. Friday, at the risk of becoming annoying myself for always complaining, I asked one more time if we could have someone come out. I even volunteered to show them where the bugs were getting in. Turns out they had sprayed, but they didn't have the right stuff to plug the hole, so the bugs got back in. So this time, they sprayed and filled the hole properly.

If I hear buzzing on Monday, I'm tearing open the wall myself. It will not be pretty.

Sometimes the Hardest Thing and the Right Thing Are the Same

Last week, I got in my car Wednesday morning to go to work. I was already running a bit late (because I got up late, because I stayed up late...the story of my life). I piled my cousin, her tennis stuff, and myself in the car and was greeted by the empty light once the car was on. That stupid little light had been on the night before too, but I was too tired to do anything about it. So I pulled into the 76 on the corner to put a few bucks' worth in (the 76, while convenient, is overpriced). But then I discovered that I had left my wallet in another bag at home. I returned home, got my wallet, and returned to the corner gas station. This whole process added 15 minutes to my morning. Not the end of the world, but enough to really frustrate me for the rest of the day.

I told my dad about the whole thing while talking to my family on Sunday. He said "Well, look at it this way: you found out your wallet wasn't there when you were only a few blocks from home and still had enough gas to go back to get it. Had you tried to get farther down the road or to work, you would have been stranded with no wallet and no gas."

Sometimes things happen that seem like the worst thing ever. You get frustrated, upset, emotional. But given time and perspective, you see that maybe it's not so bad after all. Maybe this bad thing actually saved you from a worse thing. You just have to wait for that perspective to come.