Change of Plans

What was originally planned as a two-week vacation back home to California with a return ticket to France, has now turned into an indefinite stay. The reason: assorted. My feelings (along with the contents of my suitcase): various and scattered.

Here’s the thing: Being an Au Pair? Not so much the ideal job, but yes, being in France was pretty ideal. More so, with my third au pair experience, I ended up caring for some pretty incredible girls. There were still moments of doubt; still moments where I had to muster up some courage, remind myself to breath, because the bottom line is that living with someone else’s family is just plain hard. Seeing your boss at the breakfast table in his briefs is no delight, either. The unfamiliarity of another country, trying to navigate the things that we normally take for granted (ie: depositing a check!): also hard. Ditto homesickness, snow, and a somewhat pessimistic culture.

But that’s not why I left, and I know that a few bad days don’t make the whole story. I know that aside from all of the coulda-woulda,-shoulda moments, it truly was an incredible experience. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of laughing it off and practicing the art of adaptability. I’ve learned the payoffs of being a risk taker, a follower of adventure, a truster in the universe. It all works out.

When living in a country that considers Nutella a breakfast food—a place that’s six hours from Barcelona, three hours from Italy, and a train ride to the Mediterranean—that I probably am where the grass is greener. Or, I was. But now, it’s time to get my life back on track, organized and time for me to tie up the loose ends that I left before going to France. Then maybe, just maybe-absolutely-hopefully, one day, one day sooner rather than later, I can return to France…..sans Au Pair.

Because, France, tu me manques.

On the other hand, sunshine and short-sleeves in March is always nice.

Happy 2011

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. So I didn't. For two (plus) months. I turned my back on the "project" and retreated into the background. But I'm baaaack. Yes, after a month of health issues, infections, a root canal, what I assume was the common cold, constant nausea, a much needed European family holiday vacation, and a partridge in a pear tree, I'm back!

Happy 2011! Finally! Can we agree that 2010 was a bit rough? Okay, maybe "challenging" is a more appropriate word choice. But before you think I'm being egotistical, self-absorbing, or anything else that is socially unacceptable these days, let me offer up that I’m not just referring to my life. Let's reflect.

January
While I stepped off a plane on January 1st to a new city, new job, and a new life, a 7.0 magnitude earthquake took almost six-hundred-thousand lives in Haiti. We're off to quite a start for 2010! I am now an Au Pair to two French children. I am on top of my game. I am in control. I am not fooling anyone.

February
Because one earthquake just isn't enough, a second one hits in Chile; one so powerful, it shortened the planet's day by a microsecond. However, it didn't shorten it enough to make the time pass faster in a job I realized I was quickly starting to loathe. So during the winter vacation, I took off with a special someone to Corsica to get away… far, far away!

March
I return from vacation and was immediately hit with what I convinced myself was a bout with death—it turned out to only be the flu. But because the snow won't cease and the French are so cold, and most of all, I just miss my family and warm-hearted Californians, I start brainstorming for a change of pace.

April
I learn the feeling of relief after finally quitting my job. I learn that Easter really is for rebirth and new beginnings. I learn that Barcelona is easily one of my favorite vacation cities and that it takes 6 hours by car to return to Lyon from Spain because Eyjafjallajokull Icelandic volcano has erupted, canceling all European flights. I don't care though because the pendulum is on the upswing...

May
Until it's not. Despite reading all of Oprah's and Women's Health articles on how to boost your mood, sleep better and look great, I can't seem to master any of it. Although grateful for the American family who brought me in, I quickly find myself over-worked and underpaid (who are we kidding, I was never paid!). I become stressed--stressed that I don't have another immediate option; stressed that I'm losing my French, losing my health, my hair and my mind. To make matters worse, can we really live in a world without Gary Coleman?

June
The World Cup is in South Africa, a huge sinkhole has opened up in Guatemala and I'm on weekend in the South of France. Though I never mentioned this until now, I have successfully managed to inadvertently set a mattress on fire using only a hair dryer and my savvy. The mattress is in the apartment of my friends who let me vacation there for the weekend while they were out of town.

July
Something-something-something in the media about Wikileaks and internal reports, but I can't really tell you much because honestly, I was completely oblivious to everything. Everything except being the most fortunate "homeless" girl that ever lived because after calling it quits with the American family, I spent four days in London with my very best British friend, two weeks roaming around Croatia, the islands and the Adriatic Sea, and then ten days with Rachel, road-tripping from Paris down to the South of France.

August
August arrived and I was either drunk off of relaxation or hell-bent on not yet giving up France because I signed up with a third (and FINAL, I swear to God) French family as their Au Pair to three awesome girls in the center of the city. It also doesn't hurt when your job starts with a week vacationing with them on the coast of Spain. During their second week of vacation, I sneak off to the Italian coast to explore everything mozzarella covered and garlic infused. Not a bad summer.

September
Here's a real tragedy: I turn another year older. I spend it with my new French OBGYN, which makes me feel even older. I'm nostalgic for previous birthday parties spent with frilly dresses, party favors, the Moon Man from McDonalds and colorfully wrapped boxes of Barbies. However, I put on my incredible new party dress, to spend an incredible night on an incredible riverboat/peniche, eating incredible vanilla and strawberry cake, and blowing out a candle for what I plan to make an incredible year.

October
Oh, the delightfulness of the French. They make unforgettable pastries, they speak beautifully; they enjoy their lives. When they're done, done with their (minimum) 5 weeks of vacation, they complain. They stir, they storm, they strike, they set cars on fire and they make the front page of the NY Times.

But the strikes don't bother me because the French policemen are easy on the eyes. I am keeping my head up (literally). I am going with the flow. I am okay until I'm stuck listening to my host-dad (fill in the appropriate blank) his new girlfriend for 3 hours. I am now sleep deprived, annoyed and longing for my independence again.

November
Did I mention that I love Thanksgiving? Did I mention that it's up there on my list of Top Favorite Holidays, along with Black Friday and the Vernal Equinox? Did I mention that baguettes and fromage, no matter how chewy, carb-y and creamy, will never take the place of my mom's turkey and Trader Joe's pumpkin pie?! Did I mention that nothing sounds more appealing than an entire day sitting around with family, admiring the dysfunction and keeping our aggression passive? No, I never mentioned it because Thanksgiving arrives and cue the arrival of my tooth infection that leads to a root canal, and two more weeks of other infections. But I'm still thankful because in two weeks, I will be vacationing with my dad and brother for the holidays.

Oh yeah, I also misplaced a 7 year old child. There, I said it.

December
So it's official, marijuana is still illegal....But wine isn't!

I've mentally checked out of my job, this project, and I'm trying to muster up what little energy I have left. Instead, I focus on improving my French and reading every book in sight. Escapism.

I'm in need of family, which I fly to meet in Milan December 20th. This turns into a two week adventure with the boys, including Paris for Christmas and, wait for it, yes that's right, Barcelona for New Year's Eve. We tour the sites, we spend way too long in museums, we eat flan every day for breakfast, we make inside jokes, we quote youtube clips, we see Europe together and we spend what is now the Best New Years I've Ever Had eating The Best Paella that has ever been made. We each eat our 12 grapes of good luck, even the soft ones, and hope they keep their promise.

Similar to last year, I spend January 1st on my way to Lyon. This time, I'm greeted with open arms and the best chocolate cake I've ever eaten in my entire life.

So it's official-- 2011. I'm a believer in new things, new beginnings; out with the old, in with the new...hence my shoe collection. I'm ready to take the lessons of 2010 and start anew. This past year has taught me a lot, from keeping track of my scarf and gloves, to learning to accept help from others. I've realized that I'm stronger than I thought, but it's okay to let your guard down once in a while; that at times, you just need to jump and most likely, you'll land on your feet; and even when you don't, just get back up and dust yourself off. I've realized that when all is said and done, I have an incredible support system; and that seriously, no but like seriously, no one makes baguettes like the French. So at the risk of begging, please be good to us 2011!

Happy New Year.

Croatia!

You know you’re in good hands when your pizza comes accompanied with a bottle of ketchup and hot sauce. Welcome. To. Croatia. A place that sits on the Eastern side of the Adriatic Sea, across from Italy. A place with more shoe stores per capita in the city of Split, than any other city in the world. A place of hedonism and history. A place where I decided, somewhat impulsively, that I had to see –Alone.

I’ve traveled on my own plenty, but as far as vacationing alone, I was a virgin. I had considered it an achievement when I once saw a movie by myself at Irvine Spectrum (And if I told you that it was a real movie (The Express), and not your standard chick-flick, you’d agree it was an achievement as well). The thing is, I like people just as much as the next extrovert. I enjoy company. Conversation. Sharing experiences with friends to laugh about later. And because I’ve never had problems persuading people to be in my company, it’s a fair assumption that people like me back. But here’s the thing about being around others: There needs to be balance; you know, some downtime.

After six months of living under someone else’s roof; after 26 weeks of being around kids and a family larger and louder than my own; after one-hundred and eighty-something days of someone always wanting to accompany me without any downtime, I found that solitude was banging at my door. So I answered.

The plan was this: Fly into the city of Split. Stay there three days. Island hop the rest and fly out of Dubrovnik. Days of Travel: 10

I land and I immediately loved Croatia. Aside from Ryan Reynolds, my diamond ring and those incredibly overpriced black stilettos I saw last week, Croatia is undoubtedly, one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. Roman ruins, medieval architecture and a buzzing atmosphere, all situated on the shore of some of the most stunning unspoiled beaches in Europe. The history of Croatia runs deep as this country has only encountered peace, free from war and violence, for the last fifteen or so years. There’s also something about the fact that my hostel is to be found within the Diocletian Palace, one of the most impressive Roman monuments that is concealed from the rest of the city, which makes this place even more alluring.

I’m escorted by a friendly native to my hostel and drop my luggage off. I then spend my first day of solitude exploring the fortress that is the Diocletian Palace, also known as the Old Town of Split. I walk up the alleys and down through the piazzas. I have no direction. I walk left. I turn right. I’m sure I’ve circled the same area several times. I don’t care. I have no one to tell me otherwise. I browse through the open-air market, stopping to admire the array of local products. I stop for a café. I take my time. I take pictures. I buy a cheap magenta-colored beach towel and I spend the rest of the afternoon perched on the rocky cove with my nose in a book as the sun dissolves my skin's paleness. I know, my life is rough.

I come to the primary conclusion that solitude can be quite therapeutic. Okay, yes, I do encounter what we’ll go ahead and call first-day jitters accompanied by anxiety about being on my own and alright, fine, it’s true that I even consider cutting the trip short, but I recognize quickly that I will absolutely be okay. I’ve survived half a year of the French; this should be a walk in the park (Or more accurately, the beach). And I have a hunch that being alone with my thoughts will be a good thing. It’s necessary. Suddenly, I’m calm and for the first time in a long time, I’m in the present moment. I’m content.

Ten days of exploring, ten days of reading, ten days of thinking, sunbathing, swimming, traveling, island hopping, reflecting, journaling and introspection, and here is what I have come to discover:

Discovery #1: As my friend Ife would say, “I can’t be bothered.” What I mean is this: Life is short. The planet is overheating. Gas prices keep increasing and employment rates are decreasing. Everyone is agitated, everything causes cancer, and soon, gravity will take its toll on us all beyond the aid of Botox. Until that day comes, I’m going to enjoy my youth. I’m going to celebrate wellbeing. I’m going to stop feeling so self-conscious, being bothered by insecurities, and so help me God, I’m going to benefit from those evenings I once spent at the gym, in a dance class or some fitness activity—I’m going to get nude at the Nude Beach on Brac Island and I’m going to stay there until cellulite and stretch marks find me in old age; Or maybe just for the afternoon. And so I did… and it was thrilling.

Discovery #2: Typically, I’m a planner. I am delighted by schedules, by lists, by [somewhat obsessively] crossing off the completed chores. I take joy in the sense of control that it offers. I misplaced this trait, I’m assuming, somewhere over the Adriatic Sea. I went into Croatia with an itinerary. Three days here, one day there, two nights in this place, and a day trip to that place. I didn’t follow the itinerary at all. I didn’t plan. I didn’t worry. There was more than one occasion, when I arrived in a new place, decided I liked it and found accommodations for the night. Normally, this would warrant me an Ativan and a panic attack, but something had changed. Somehow I knew that everything always works out….and it did.

Discovery #3: I love traveling. I believe it transforms, transcends and takes the soul to new heights of understanding. My love for travelling has been continuous and constant, and at times, I’ve been more loyal to travel than to my own romantic relationships. I listen to stories of people who have cycled through Europe; who have climbed to the top of mountain peaks; who have trekked trails that spread over multiple countries; people who do all of these amazing feats. I follow their stories with amazement; “Wow, I want to do that!” But let me distill an accuracy that I learned about myself: In actuality, I don’t want to do those things. I just wish I were the type of person who actually wanted to do those things. Maybe I lack a certain je-ne-sais-quoi or Spirit of Adventure, but I have no desire to set out on an arduous quest to prove myself. I am more exceedingly proud that I can now drink Italian espresso; or when I step off a plane in one piece after a two-hour flight next to colicky infant; Hell, I’m pleased when I’m able to retrieve my baggage directly after a flight from the baggage claim and not one month later. It may not compare, but I’m now okay with that.

I learned this the hard way when I arrived in Bol (with my luggage), on the South side of Brac Island; a place that is considered the jewel of the Adriatic. A place with secluded coves, stunning beaches, rich in vineyards and olive trees, but not congested with tourists. Drunk off it’s beauty and only that, I thought, “Sure, why not hike to the hilltop that overlooks the ocean and camp at the campground?! I could totally do that. I am woman; I am strong. Aren’t I?” So I tried it.

The Verdict: Camping was too quiet, too secluded and yes, too lonely. I felt isolated, agitated and afraid of the dark. The wind howled, I didn’t sleep and I was wide-awake when the sun rose at 5 a.m. I packed my bag and headed off the island, never wanting to camp again and learning that I don’t need to prove everything.

Discovery #4: Since arriving in Europe in January, I’ve been something else for someone else—mostly an Au Pair/nanny/volunteer/help/etc. I’m not complaining—I swear. I kinda-sorta knew what I was getting into. But after the last six months of asking others what they want (What do you want for breakfast? What do you want on your toast? What do you want to wear to school today? What movie do you want to watch and book do you want to read? Where do you want to take your timeout at?), I’ve decided it’s my turn. So without further ado, here is exactly what I want:

I want to live. Live with intention; live with grace. I want to continue to travel, to experience, to admire beauty and encounter new cultures. I want to achieve balance and practice patience. Let go of hurt, forgive others for the past and forgive myself. Bygones. I want to trust; people; myself; that I’ll be okay; that it will all work out in the end. I want to be fortuitous, act mindfully and keep my head in the present. I want to maintain my dreams; live with passion and to follow that passion. I want to love; love fully, without acerbity of the past so I can be open to relationships and possibilities. I want to communicate; with friends; with family; with lovers. I want to pause and reflect. Recognize and release. Take deep breaths. Take my time. Be confident but humbled. Stay headstrong. Be assertive with compassion. Be swept off my feet. Continue to care and continue to live with gratitude. Be a good friend, a loving daughter and devoted sister. I want to make myself happy, too. I want to enjoy life, enjoy people and if there’s still time left over, brake for a piece of dark chocolate, a good Merlot and a good laugh.

Discovery #5: Yogurt Gelato conquers all.

Croatia was my vacation and all mine. It was a few days in Split, one night at a friendly hostel in Brac, one night camping in Bol, a few days on Korcula Island meeting travelers from all over, and one night in the beautiful but overly-touristy-overly-expensive-as-we-try-to-charge-five-euros-for-an-Espresso-Dubrovnik. I can say now that my satiety for solitude has been met. I’m ready to head back to France for a French vacation with my friend Rachel and try to find a gelato that compares.

Island of Korcula

Bol, on the Island of Brac

Split

Easter Beginnings

I’m a little fuzzy on the religious meaning of Easter. Plus, with a mom that’s a recent Jewish convert, a dad who still holds some comfort in Catholicism, a brother who’s Agnostic, a grandmother who prays to that we won’t forget her See’s candy, aunts, uncles, and cousins who reside somewhere between Christianity, Catholicism, Baptist, and one that I assume to be Atheist (?), it’s passable to say that we don’t bask in the religious facet of the holiday. Nonetheless, we all agree that Easter includes family, baskets of chocolate with shiny plastic grass, Peeps, the hard-boiling, dying, hiding, and hunting of eggs, Peeps, an Encinitas family brunch, the ending of whatever we unsuccessfully gave up for Lent (which knowing my family, was probably sugar), Peeps, fresh flowers, and new beginnings…And did I mention the Peeps?

Oh, right, new beginnings. Winter is over, Spring is here, new flowers are blossoming, and is it just me or does the air just seem fresher? Out with the old, in with the new, and it’s sufficed to say that I’m not the only one with new beginnings in line. I have a friend moving from Arizona to start a new life, a friend moving to Arizona to start grad school, a friend awaiting the purchase of a new home, a dad with a newly remodeled old home, a friend starting a new job, a friend planning a new vacation, and a grandmother who I assume is sitting with a new box of See’s chocolate on her lap. As Bob Dylan would say, “The times, they are a-changin’.” Yes, Bob, yes they are.

And for me, well, I couldn’t be more pleased and excited about the new beginnings that are literally just around the corner (across the street, down the road, through the gated community, and less than a mile away). By this time next week, I will be writing on this blog from a new location, in a new bedroom, with a new family, as a new Au Pair to three fantastic kids that I fell in love with my first week here in Lyon. They’re American, they’re here for the same reason I am (to experience the French culture), their son has play-dates with my current host-family’s son, which is how I met them, they’re my new family until July, they’re my saving grace from the dark days my current status-quo, and they’re extraordinary.

Though the doors to winter are being shut and the pea-coats and snow boots are being put away, the lessons I’ve learned during those three bleak months have revealed. It’s been a relentless pattern of reflecting, rediscovering, and even regretting at times, but I’ve learned. I’ve learned that putting something off (like quitting) makes something instantly harder and scarier, that wishing things were different is a great way to torment yourself, that there’s splendor in the monotonous 8-to-5 job, because when you quit, you don’t have to still see the employers at the breakfast table. I’ve learned it’s true about little boys being made of snips, snails and puppy-dog tails, but unfortunately there are some girls who are made of sugar, spite, and everything that makes one want to run for the hills. I’ve confirmed the importance of being earnest, honest, and a good B-Complex vitamin. I’ve learned that I’m strong, I can endure, and I have the most incredible support system back home that would make any onlooker green with envy. I’ve learned that doors will close, hopes will fall, relationships will end, but dreams will prevail. Life, well, it rarely turns out the way you plan… I just didn’t realize that it applied to my life.

And lastly (for now), I’ve learned how great friends can take the place when family is absent, that when you’re a tidbit homesick for the familiarity of an Encinitas Easter brunch (and Peeps, of course), a brunch with a new generous host-family and a post-office delivered Easter “basket” from your best friend will certainly make you smile.

Thank you, Courtney, for my amazing care-package Easter basket! (not photographed: Aleve pills)

The kids of my new host-family, on search for Easter eggs!

The backyard view of my new home

He found the golden bunny! The girl was not happy at all!

Gratitude (this will be easy):

• Change (yes I know, I really did admit that)
• Incredible friends
• Eating Sour Patch Easter Bunnies while wearing new Easter socks and starting a new book
• An Easter brunch that included roasted chicken, deviled eggs, asparagus, tomato and mozzarella salad, and yes, mimosas :)
• One week left....