Alpha and Omega

Its like you're on a roller coaster ride - minutes before you take off you feel like you could just puke - but 30 seconds later, you're sitting there with a shit eating grin - you're wishing to do it all over again.

Today was D.DAY! For the last 8 months I have be planning this day. NAY for the last 5 years minus a few months I've been planning this day. The day I'd tell my supe and the people that I work with that I was moving on. Bouncing out. In my head it had gone a few ways. The way you always imagine leaving is a far cry from what actually happens. In my dreams it was dramatic, full of expletives four letter words flying - the look of shock and horror as my hood self aka Sasha approaches and lets eeeerbody ( yes eeeerbody) know EXACTLY how I feel about them. But in reality, I was humble, shaking, and nervous. Scared to tell the people that have helped me stay employed for the last 5 years that we'd come to the end of the road.

I followed a dear friend's advice and did it early. Before 10 am the word was out. I had just resigned. Its unimaginable thinking back that I considered waiting any longer. In that first hour and a half at work - I was already sweaty and anxious, just waiting eagerly for a free moment to tell my boss that this was it. I pulled him aside in what seems like a freezer - the small conference room always cold seemed extra icy today.

It was short and brief, just like that roller coaster ride. I sat him down. Made sure he understood that it wasn't personal or a sudden decision but one that I mulled over for months, in truth I resigned a long time ago. I was just waiting for the right moment to let them know. My heart, which has never been in the wonderful world of personal auto - was really not in it anymore. Not since last summer - from then on out - it was just a waiting game. Every day, week, and month that passed I felt myself close off and care less about my daily task. My routine that I am notoriously rigid about was beginning to peel away at the edges. My work mask that I wear so well began to drop. Until today. I picked up my work persona - dragged her into that room - and with " its time for me to move on" I killed her.

I will never again be an underwriting operations specialist. I doubt that I'll ever subject myself to doing anything to wholly unsatisfying to my dreams and what I want to do with my life. This was the end of that life - and the beginning of something much more special.

Pour le vainqueur va le butin

I am being mollywopped. For those of you who don't know what a mollywopping is - have you ever been in a knock down - drag out fight? I'm talking loose teeth fight. Fighting so hard you can't catch your breath. More than just a regular argument that turns to blows, a mollywopping is an ass kicking. And dear readers, my apartment is KICKING MY ASS.

I have a little over 2 weeks, and in my suit case, are newly purchased make-up brushes and freaking towels. I'm going to France, with nothing. But I will be able to apply my make-up if I ever decide to pack that, and I'll be very absorbent. This ladies and gentlemen is a problem.

I don't even really know why I haven't packed. I get to keep my apartment here (luckily for me, I'm spoiled and my parents own it) meaning I don't have to pack up all of my stuff. I can stagger my moving. My parents and siblings plan on visiting come Christmas - they can bring my winter needs, and then my brothers will come in the summer and they'll bring the rest of it. But for whatever reason - I can't get anything packed. The more I think of it - the less I want to go. Isn't that insane. How is that even possible. How does packing make me want to pack it all in and say forget. I'll keep my boring job, that I'm destroying my insides over and keep my mundane life - because this - this right here is EXACTLY what I want. Again maybe its the heat. Maybe I'm just being lazy. Either way - to the victor goes the spoils. I'm going to go fold some sweaters or something - get my shit in order.

Relevancy

Its like not wanting your little sister to touch the stuff in your room - even though its not your room any more - its hers.

That is exactly how I feel right now. I know that in a few weeks none of this will really matter - these feelings will be so silly but right now, while I'm in the middle of it - I going a little stir crazy. Maybe its the heat. Its figuratively a million degrees out. In reality its only about 95. Between the heat and a certain someone getting all up in my mix - I feel a little irrelevant. So person "A", hell, let's just call her Alice, or Ali Baba, or Akeema. Yeah, Akeema. Akeema and I work together but we're friends too. Akeema is nothing but nice. Matter of factly I see a lot of myself in her - well how I imagine myself. Charming, witty, always fun to be around - I could go on and on describing her wonderful attributes but, you get the point. It's not that she's done anything either - I'm just insanely territorial. While insane may be too harsh of an adjective it's dead on in describing the internal conflict I'm having. I want all these things for her. My position at this company (not really though, I want her to get as far from this place as humanely possible)- my friends to be her friends, all of it - but not yet. Is it too much to ask that she back off for the little time I have left?

Its so strange - I'm the one going on this amazing carpet ride, this grand adventure, yet I'm desperate to stay. How does one cope with wanting one foot in this world, and the other some where else. I guess it helps knowing how completely and utterly irrational I sound.

I guess the old adage is true. Even people who get everything they want, never get everything they want.

And now to create.

Today I read "The story of your life is not the story of what your heart got, but what your heart didn’t get and how it kept on beating. We are all daredevil hobos with bindles full of dreams and beans following train tracks to who knows where." I can't in all honesty disagree with it. Life never plays out fairly - some of us just make the most of what we have. I'm not always one of those people - but lately I've become better at rolling with the punches. Lately my punches have been coming in the form of immigration set backs. This will make the second time in my life where, I'm fighting folks to let me into their country. When I was younger - since my mom did all the fighting I always assumed it was easy. But fighting with the French, people who are notoriously known for NOT fighting - well they're a pain in the ass.

I hope by the end of the summer, it will all have worked out. Doesn't matter really. I'm still going. This life's goal of mine is taking me to Paris in 6 short weeks. I am not sure when I really decided that I was moving to Europe. I can argue that I've been planning on running away since I was 6 1/2. Then I'd guess that I started giving it some sincere thought again at 2o. Those wild and wide eyed ambitions never really panned out as I hoped. But for the last two years, with some help from grandfather laws and my French born mother, I've been able to figure out a way to legitimately move, and after a all too brief visit last summer, I finally began to dig in, save, sacrifice, and plan my move to Paris.

I remember coming home last summer, and dreaming of the day when I could walk along the Champs Elysee and not have to worry about coming back home. I felt empty in those first few weeks. Wishing that there was a way that I could go back sooner rather than later. With the date literally on my doorsteps, I know that nothing taste better than that which you have waited for. I can already hear the singing "Bonjour's" in my immediate future. I can't wait to answer "Oui Bonjournee! Cava?!"