Road Trip (part 1)

The honeymoon is officially over. :)

I tend to romanticize memories and events in my life, and this move back to DC is no exception. When I thought about moving back east, I mostly imagined walking around the city, enjoying amazing food at my favorite restaurants, going to art exhibits, attending concerts, shopping in Clarendon and Georgetown, and working on the Hill.

I forgot about the actual move.

I think moving is a lot like childbirth. Every mom I’ve talked to says that having a baby is completely worth the hours/days/months of pain, agony and stress, and that once the baby comes, everything you had to go through to get to that point pales in comparison to the joy you experience.

Here’s hoping.

Since we left Clovis, we have driven 2,292 miles – 40+ hours in a 26 foot long Penske truck with no shocks towing a Highlander (p.s. Oklahoma, Arkansas and New Mexico: you should think about repairing your roads every few decades). We stopped in Flagstaff, Arizona on Sunday night, Albuquerque, New Mexico on Monday, Shawnee, Oklahoma on Tuesday, and tonight we're in a Motel-6-esque Hampton Inn in Lebanon, Tennessee, about 45 minutes east of Nashville.

This was my view for the first day or so while I drove my Jetta...




Then Robbie came down with a cold, so we quarantined him to the car and I've been riding in the truck with Brian since then.

Here's some of the beautiful scenery near the border of Arizona and New Mexico...



Brian driving the truck...


Crossing the border into Texas!


And Oklahoma!
Checotah, Oklahoma is very proud of their hometown girl... there were about 3 different signs along the interstate to make sure everyone knows where Carrie Underwood is from!


Driving through thunderstorms in Oklahoma and Arkansas...




And over the Mississippi River into Tennessee!


So that's our progress so far! The end is in sight, and I can't wait to get there. I have a funny story to share about a discovery I made in one of the many truck stops we've visited, but I'll save that for another blog.

Letting Go

I have never cried harder than I did on Thursday night.

Last week was probably one of the worst, most stressful, most difficult weeks of my life. I also only got a total of about 20 hours of sleep, which didn’t help when dealing with the overwhelming stress and exhaustion of packing up our entire house. Not to mention family issues, relationship problems, and the helpless frustration that I didn’t have enough time to say goodbye to everyone I wanted to.

All week, I numbed myself and did my best to keep from feeling anything so that I could function well enough to get through the packing. I became such a zombie that I was afraid I would never be able to cry again after burying so much pain and sadness.

Thankfully, I was wrong. Thursday night around midnight, once everyone had gone and I finally let down my guard, everything I had been trying so hard not to feel swept over me like a massive tidal wave. Looking around at our empty apartment, wishing I had more time with the people I love, knowing that moving is the best thing for us right now and long-term, but wishing it wasn’t. I think I sobbed for almost 4 hours straight. I survived the week, but barely.

We left last Friday night and spent the day in Disneyland on Saturday. What a wonderful way to say “goodbye” to California. It was a perfect day – 75 degrees and sunny. Brian, Robbie, Kathryn and I spent the day walking around California Adventure, riding the rollercoaster and Soarin’ Over California, watching the show at the Frontier Land Saloon, and exploring the newly reopened Tom Sawyer Island/ "Pirate's Lair". We had so much fun!!

On the tram

Brian and his brother Scott

C!

Robbie and Kathryn at California Adventure

Our favorite roller coaster!

Waiting in line

Take 2

Watching our favorite show at the Golden Horseshoe Saloon

Exploring Tom Sawyer Island (now the "Pirate's Lair")

The tree house

I told them to "go stand under the sign"... :)

Trapped by pirates!

In the tree house

On Sunday morning, we said our final goodbyes to my mom and sis and headed out of LA. As I drove my car alone through the desert (Brian and Rob rode in the truck), I felt so sad.

I sobbed quietly, asking God for answers, guidance, provision and peace. He reminded me that he provides “streams in the desert.” I had never felt such a clash of emotions – grief, fear, anticipation, apprehension, relief, excitement, sorrow, joy… peace.

Then I cried again as I passed a sign that said “Now Leaving California.”

It's official!

We're moving back to DC! It's been in the works for a while, but we've actually set a date (May 24th), put in our 30-day notice at our current place, and leased an apartment in Ballston that will be ready for us on June 1st.

I'm so happy. And really sad.

You'd think this would get easier, since we seem to move at least twice a year. But it doesn't. Moving back (like moving here was) is bittersweet. I left my heart there when we came back to California, and part of my heart will always be here. I think I'm destined to be bi-coastal forever.

Brian and I spent the weekend doing a full inventory of all the crap we've accumulated over the years. There's a lot of crap. And a lot of non-crap. It's the latter that I'm dreading having to pack.

I really am excited, though. I will miss so many things about California, but as time has gone on I've come to value different things, and I've realized how important some things are that I never even paid attention to before. Like a healthy professional culture, a broader perspective on the world, job opportunities, and grad schools that are actually ranked (and have names that people recognize).

Most of the things I will miss, though, aren't things at all. They're people. Especially my family, I will miss them so much. I will miss the impromptu therapy sessions with mom, the fun afternoons hanging out with my little sis (who gets less little every day), and dad's bar-b-que on the weekends.


I will miss all the amazing people I have connected and reconnected with this past year, some of whom I have known for years, others I have only met recently and wish I had more time with, but all of whom I know will stay in my heart and life for many years to come. Thankfully, the world keeps getting smaller and smaller, and through the ever-improving wonders of technology, most of those who mean the most to me are just a mouse click or phone call (or plane ride) away.

So that's the plan. We're moving. In 2 1/2 weeks. Brian graduates with his Master's on Friday, and we'll be spending the next 2 1/2 weeks packing and spending time with loved ones. Then it will be on the road again for Brian, Robbie and me.

The countdown begins...

The End of an Era

I lived on Capitol Hill for just 4 months almost 3 years ago, but my heart has remained long after I left. Some of my fondest memories of my first days living in my favorite city are there, and to this day one of my favorite places in DC is Eastern Market. So many defining moments in my life were spent in the coffee shops and flea markets there, talking over big ideas with great friends. I still hope to find a place to live in that neighborhood someday.

You can imagine my heartbreak, then, when I learned that the market's South Hall burned down early Monday morning. It hit me in the pit of my stomach. I feel like an old friend has died, and even though I know that it will be rebuilt, I know it can never hope to have the same charm as the 134-year-old building bustling with activity every Saturday morning. I wish I could be there right now.

Eastern Market South Hall exterior

Produce
Some of the neighborhood rowhouses
South Hall interior
The Market Lunch breakfast - best pancakes you'll ever have
Street musicians
Outdoor market - art, antiques, etc.

Do-nothing Democrats?

Americans seem to think so. So much for calling out Republicans for not getting anything done.

Beauty in the Breakdown

My office is empty.

My drawers are empty.

My files are empty.

My chair is gone.

My desk is clean.

I'm done.

That last one is true on so many levels.

Today was (kind of) my last day. Technically, my last day is Monday, but I'm done with work, and I'm having my wisdom teeth pulled that afternoon. That is, at least after I have my "I get to tell off my boss" meeting with the CEO. I'm really looking forward to that.

I'm so over that place. I have never felt so relieved and so happy to be ending something before. I am free. And I am walking away with a wealth of knowledge about how - and more importantly, how NOT - to run an organization.

I think that was worth putting up with crap for a year. At least I hope it was. I suppose only time will tell.

Off to the next chapter...

Thoughts on the War

In the words of Joe Lieberman, "Al-Qaeda, after all, isn't carrying out mass murder against civilians in the streets of Baghdad because it wants a more equitable distribution of oil revenue. Its aim in Iraq isn't to get a seat at the political table; it wants to blow up the table -- along with everyone seated at it."

With all the disgusting political maneuvering being played out this week at the expense of the ones who are actually fighting the war, this was a refreshingly rare read.

We are not the enemy. Terrorists are the enemy.

I think people are starting to get fed up. I know I am.

I'm not exactly a Bush cheerleader, and I'm definitely not a military strategist, but even I have a basic grasp of national security policy.

Even democrats - who historically have been experts at feigning unity at all costs in order to achieve political ends - have started to throw their own under the bus when it becomes apparent that they have slipped and spoken too much of the truth.

Apparently you can go too far with anti-war rhetoric. People are smart. The idea that you can claim to "support the troops" while at the same time spewing vitriolic contempt for their country and their mission is asinine. And while this is typical behavior for most liberal democrats who find it difficult to imagine that anyone but them could be capable of rational, independent thought, the reality is that most Americans (and most Iraqis) don't want us to lose this war. And they definitely don't want the soldiers to be defunded.

More brilliant, although now dated, commentary, this time courtesy of Michael Barone (whom I had the great honor of meeting at AEI in 2004):

The alternative is to get Republican votes. But only two of them voted for the March bill, and few are likely to support anything but a "clean bill," with no deadlines, goals, or benchmarks. But that would enrage many Democrats. The CodePink group and other antiwar organizations have already been staging demonstrations in Pelosi's office. They'd get really angry if a Democratic House passes a "clean bill."

The Democrats will face the same problem when George W. Bush vetoes their bill. They would like to end the war, but they dare not end funding to the troops. They can hope that the sympathetic mainstream media will put the blame on Bush. But they can't help remembering that the last time an opposition Congress refused to meet a president's demand to fund the government, it was the speaker-Newt Gingrich-not the president-Bill Clinton-who plummeted in the polls.

Unfortunately, thanks to some of the most spineless Republicans ever to hold office, we now know that Pelosi, Reid and the Democrats were able to do just that this afternoon: pass a bill that would defund the troops, ensure America's defeat, threaten our national security, and otherwise declare to the entire world (including our enemies) that we are more than happy to give up and go home when things start to get tough. That we have no honor or conviction.

The dirty little secret is, even though most people think things are going badly in Iraq (mostly because that's all they are told day after day), the vast majority want President Bush to succeed.

That's why I think we should just let them keep talking. Eventually, extreme liberals always show their true colors, and they have done exactly that this last week. Most Americans are patient, but when it comes down to it, they're also patriotic.

I can't imagine they'll stand for this much longer.

Fix You

Most of the time, I'm a problem-solver. You know the friend that you love but can never just sit there and let you complain about how much your life sucks without them telling you why it sucks and what they think you need to do to fix all your problems?

That's me. I'm a fixer.

The problem is, I can't fix myself. I used to be able to. I used to be able to sit back, objectively look at myself in the mirror and give myself a to-do list: "step 1 + step 2 + step 3 = problem solved." I used to spend hours and hours taking personality tests, reading self-help books, and "researching" my way out of all of my self-diagnosed "issues." Now, no matter how hard I try, I can't. Or won't.

I'm not entirely sure when or how this happened. Maybe I've been like this for a while and have just been so numb for the past year that I haven't noticed and had no need to try to fix myself. Maybe it's been so easy to pour all my energy into fixing other people that I forgot myself in the process. All I know is, I'm starting to feel again, and my heart is going into it kicking and screaming.

Feeling frightens me, and it didn't used to. I used to take such comfort in my emotions. They were my best friends, allowing me to escape from confusing reality into a world that made sense to me.

But when I finally allowed someone into my heart and my emotional world, for all the wonder and joy and passion and ecstatic happiness it brought, it also hurt. Sometimes, a lot. All of a sudden, I was vulnerable. Naked. Unprotected. And the more times I was hurt, the more I consciously or unconsciously put part of my soul to sleep. Now, it feels like there is a wall around most of my heart, except I don't remember building it.

Now, so much has happened to force certain parts of me out of hibernation that I have begun to realize just how much of me has been sidelined. And it scares the crap out of me.

What scares me more, though, is that instead of feeling my way through this mess, I'll tuck those last little parts of my heart away and shoot them so full of anesthesia that they may never recover.

Is it possible to experience all the depth and breadth of human emotion without simultaneously destroying that very essence of what makes us human? Or do we only have the capacity to feel so much at a time before reaching a critical mass of emotion, forcing some of our cylinders to stop spinning so the other parts can keep functioning?

A to-do list would be nice right about now.


Fix You
Coldplay (X&Y)

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

When the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

High up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
If you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Would You Have Stopped?

If a world-class musician were dressed like a street performer and playing in a subway station on your way to work, would the beauty and brilliance of the music transcend the surroundings?

Would you even notice?

Or would you - like almost all of the 1,000+ people that passed Joshua Bell playing his Stradivarius violin in the L'Enfant Square metro station that morning - walk by without so much as a glance of appreciation?

This article absolutely mesmerized me. Very rarely does one find such a poetic and disturbing philosophic exposé on music, beauty, art and modern life in the Sunday paper.

Have we become so jaded and numb that we no longer appreciate beauty, art, music... life?

For our sake, I hope not.

(You can listen to the full audio of Joshua Bell's performance on Washingtonpost.com. It is breathtakingly beautiful.)

Good, But Not Great

I got to meet Josh Groban last night. It was cool.

The concert was good (not great). The music was beautiful. He is extremely talented, but the show was poorly produced. It seemed very awkward and amateurish compared to his previous shows. The worst part was the strange video images on the background. There's a fairly universal rule in stage production: the sets and lights and effects should complement and support the performance, not distract from it. I found myself distracted and confused trying to figure out what in the world I was looking at and why it was on the screen. I thought it was unfortunate, since he is so talented and the music was so beautiful, that I missed a good third of the show by having my attention pulled away from the performers.

The highlight of the show was, once again, Lucia Micarelli. She is amazingly talented. I fell in love with her at the first Josh Groban concert I attended in San Diego where she completely stole she show with her rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody. Josh has since added another beautiful young woman playing a stringed instrument in Collette the cellist [30 minutes of Googling and I can't find her last name... arrgh!]. She was poised and passionate, and the perfect complement to Lucia's wild enthusiasm.

All in all, it was a lovely evening. Rob and I did the meet and greet, and Dave got to come at the last minute (to be Rob's hot date). Brian liked when Josh got on the drums at the end of the show and soloed.

Final analysis: I did not find myself being moved as I was at his Closer concert, but I was entertained.