Just look for the big W

I think I'll see this cherub at the Sistene Chapel, until then he's thinking about what I've said here.

Q's

What did I get from this trip?

What good did I do any body?

Where do I go next?

What am I going to do?

Why am I here now, feels like waiting around, and feeling guilty about it? Isn’t that weird? All my life I’ve strived for this very moment, this whole summer of moments and now I’ve achieved it and here I sit, wondering why? Isn’t that funny? Really be careful what you wish for. I’d have it no other way for sure but it just seems funny you have to get what you ask for to know one way or the other. I think that’s what I love and hate about it, the irony of getting “it” and then discovering that “it” was enough and now to move on.

But to what? It’s still the debate. The only thing I have to fall back on is that I do feel I’ve gleaned some valuable things from this whole trip. Not sure what they are but I feel fueled by a fire to get out there and make some more things happen for myself. Job, life, love. I think it will all come together eventually but now that I’ve learned a few times that I can get what I ask for and that it’s just another stop on the journey, not the ending point, then I’m going to have to keep going.

Amazing don’t you think? Fairy tales do exist to keep us going, hope, dreams they are necessary. I’d never have managed so long without them but I think there are some parts missing still. Something to be dreamed about. I’m kind of living the dream. I don’t want it to end, but at the same time I can’t wait to get on with it. See what I mean? Isn’t that messed up? Everything fell into place for me to be here. Everything this summer worked out one way or the other for a reason. I’m here in Valencia for a reason. I met Tony for a reason, sailed to the Canary Islands (out into the ocean) for a reason. But what? And why do I feel so compelled to answer the question? Why even ask it? What reason? That’s like asking God why am I here? Yeah, God why am I here?

I came looking for work and there is work. I’ve found it, but seeing these people live here and work for cash as PR people or waiters is not living the dream. I guess I don’t want it bad enough. See there is that “it” again.

I can do that in some new place in the US (and likely will too) but in Europe I guess I wanted the life. Isn’t that funny as well? There are tons of bar jobs etc in Ireland and also in the Canary Islands. I could have stayed there and worked for cash. Also had I really applied myself I could have worked on a yacht slaving away feeding and cleaning up after wealthy people. Umm…

I know what I want I guess, and none of those things are it.

I set out to create something new for myself not get stuck doing something I don’t like. I think that creation is still coming (to a theatre near you) but what it is is yet to come to light. I think there are things I can do if I lump all my knowledge together and apply it to something. Any ideas?

The other thing I came looking for (or at least to keep a watchful eye out) was love. Ah yes, I thought for sure my husband would be residing in Europe somewhere and that I would find him. But guess what I discovered? It’s not that easy. Why would a Spanish guy go for an American girl. I don’t speak the language, don’t have the looks, don’t know the wine and the food. Same with Dutch, Hungarians, probably same with Italian (we’ll find out). The closest I came was an Englishman who happened to be in love with sailing, not something I can compete with. And who would want to compete with that anyways, now having sailed the ocean it is pretty AWESOME and not much can compare to it.

So there you have it. All the lessons I learned over this trip have proved to me one thing. I will never be one of those people who goes through life with ease, you know, those who saunter up to the airport counter get the nicest person behind the desk, bags look light as a feather, they are perfectly (effortlessly!!) done up. They go from here to there with such ease, reach for what they need in their bag and find it without so much as batting an eye. Those people. I’ve met them, dated them, befriended them. Hoping to catch what they have. Guess what? I don’t think it rubs off. I will probably always be (Oh I hope not) the one whose bag is surprisingly overweight, the one who fumbles for the passport upon request, can’t seem to find that darn pen in their bag, misses the security line only to find its grown to unimaginable lengths while I’ve wandered around looking for it. Run to the bus stop to catch it, forgot the charge the cell phone…didn’t write down any addresses of hostels before landing in a strange city. I could go on. But I won’t. I’ve been writing about them all summer. Thinking by now, 3 months later that I’d have figured it out. Thinking it would all be smoother for me, some how I would have figured it out. Hmmm, still waiting. Still waiting… waiting.

The best part will be that when my brother gets here I’ll have to be the smooth one (smoother anyways) have to have my wits about me, have it figured out etc so that he has some fun and doesn’t get mad at me being in the “Anthony family way” a.k.a. not going through life with ease.

Well I think I’ve ranted enough. Anyone feeling compelled to answer these burning questions feel free. Otherwise I’ll see you when I get there.

Baby Xander thinks its all awfully funny. His mom is one of those smooth operators ya know!

K