Sunday Soliloquy

January 19, 2008. Saturday. The day of my departure to Belfast, Northern Ireland only to leave three days later for Londonderry. I will be studying there for 4 months. I have dreamt of this my entire life. I don't possess an ounce of Irish blood, yet talk to any of my friends or reference my 10th grade paper on "The Wonderful World of Irish Cheese" or dare me to hum every Riverdance song while simultaneously performing my desperately awful version of a reel, and you will know. You will know that my passion for the Emerald Isle burns deep. And it burns strong.

I meticulously plan for my time there as I smile in the back of my mind. I know it will all go out the window upon my first breath of Irish air. I have a had a rough winter and am ready for it. Ready for an intervention into my drab routine also known as my life. My bags are packed. Goodbyes are said. And I am gone.

It is 5a.m. but through the plane windows I am catching flashes of green. Soon the flashes turn into pictures. The pictures into a beautiful film right before my eyes. I've had Riverdance playing for at least an hour now and can't stop smiling. We land. I get the bags that hold four months of clothes, shampoo, and books. Board the bus to Jury's Inn. Wander the deserted Sunday morning streets of Belfast. Make friends. Daydream constantly. Eat scones and drink tea to my hearts content. I've come home.



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it's like this.

So I still get high off of the Harry Potter series. I get lovesick while daydreaming of Ron Weasley and, oddly, of Snape. Perhaps that is my dark kinky side I didn't know I had suconsciously breaking free...?

Seriously though.

Ever since I was but a wee girl books have been my way into worlds that would otherwise, sadly, not exist. I could curl up with a book for an entire day and feel as though no time has passed at all. Isn't that just the most amazing feeling? Back when I was a young emo child, I would actually get upset that I couldn't go to a place such as Hogwarts. I wanted to go somewhere where being different was accepted rather than blatantly denied. It worked out for Sara Crewe...Anne of Green Gables...Mary Lennox...why not me? But then, I knew they went through their own hardships. Becoming a maid, having red hair and being called "Carrots", or becoming stronger again by discovering your very own secret garden to tend to and grow with. I would, and still do, become so involved with the characters that I would ache with their aches, glow with their laughter, and cry as they did. At times as I finished the book I would hurl it to the floor in anguish at my beloved character's perilous ending...but pick it up again, holding it close to my chest, and kiss it's cover in reverence. (I was a somewhat dramatic kid.) Why I have always felt such a connection to humanity I do not know...I guess someday I will.

I get reflective after two or more glasses of wine. Then I weird people out by speaking of my passionate love affair with books. Or Severus Snape, for that matter.

Anyways. I'll try to be cooler now.

Fiancee climbed a mountain today. So on the coolness scale, I'd say he's pretty sweet. I lounged in a beach chair and enjoyed a day off, which, I must admit, was pretty sweet too. I'm glad our independence has given us an excuse to sit on our asses for 24 hours and consume copious amounts of alcohol with nothing on our conscience. No really. That makes me extremely happy.

Happiness...is:

-Family car rides. My brother talks himself to sleep. I read a book. My dad rocks out. My mom affectionately rubs my dad's knee or falls asleep. This is the case no matter where we go.
-A smile from a stranger on the street.
-A child's unconditional love.
-A secret look from fiancee across the room that I know means 'You're mine.' And the fact that I get to return that look.
-Coming out of the shower to see fiancee playing the guitar, and watch him for a while without him knowing. He does his sexy lip thing then and I like it.
-A pint of Guinness after a long day.
-Opening a new a book and reading the first sentence...and immediately falling in love with it. Letting the words sink in.
-Late night phonecalls from your best friends even if they are completely ridiculous and all you do is tell each other 'move on, he's no good for you'...or 'haha you're so wasted' or 'I miss you doing lip bubbles in the shower' or 'Let's bring a coffee thermos filled with juice and vodka to the show tonight' or 'you're not getting fat' or 'I love you'.
-Cuddling with your mom at the age of 21.
-Still giving your dad a goodnight kiss.
-Sleeping in.
-The feeling you get after a good cry. Or the laughter with your fiancee after it's over and you realize it had absolutely no point.
-A new script to memorize or song to sing at the top of my lungs.
-Rocking out in the car and not caring about people watching. You know they do it too.
-Clean sheets.
-Goldfish crackers and M&M's.
-New school supplies.
-Waking up to a day that is completely new, unplanned, and right at your fingertips.


I am off to putz around before bed now. Tomorrow I am going to start learning Portuguese. I figure since my mother is, and she never learned, that it would be amazing to do it. I feel connected with a culture I hardly know. Perhaps that is where my salsa hips I never knew I had until this past year burst out of the woodworks from...? Bring it on Hector Lavoe. Amalia Rodrigues. Linguicia and Malasadas. I'm comin.

Searching for Jessica...

Tonight I am searching for her in a deep maroon glass of Australian Shiraz. In my Yoga practice. In my Itunes addiction. My obsession with photographs. With dissonant harmonies. Lines in paintings. Small triumphs in physical therapy. The warmth and kindness of those around me. My parents. My physical therapist. Of my boss. The laughter they all bring me. In the 20 days until my fiancee's arrival. In those 20 days who knows what or who I will be one day to the next...Is it ok that I don't know? I think so. It isn't the scary kind of life crisis of not knowing. It's a simple realization that I am constantly Jess with just as constant shifts. Shifts in mood, thought patterns, and of course there is that of beer to wine, or vice versa. Tonight it's a wine night.

My mom and I purchased my wedding dress today. My wedding dress. I own a wedding dress and it's not from my My-Size Barbie. [You know you had one and you loved it.] It was the second one I tried on and it all happened in the span of 45 minutes! I would post pictures, but fiancee knows about this blog and I will stick to at least one tradition. No peeking! It is so surreal to think that in less than a year's time I will be a married woman. Surreal, but beautiful. I am so relieved to know that I never have to enter the world of dating or morning after's ever again. I am content to know that every morning I will awaken to the most handsome man laying beside me...and will return to that same bed with that same man that same night. He is truly my soul mate in every aspect of the overly used cliche phrase. I know that because as much as it drives him crazy, he won't mind if I leave my wet towels on the floor. If I take too long in the shower. Am ridiculously absent-minded. Snore. Pass gas. Get sick and sniffly and perhaps rub some of my lovely mucus on his face when he kisses me because I can't help it. I can't help kissing him every time I see him because he is irresistable. From his ability to never say goodbye and ramble for 10 minutes before he does. To his tickle laugh. His mischievous twinkle he gets in his eye. His childlike excitement over things. His overwhelming affection for me.

He is my other half. So therefore, on nights when I look for me, I find him. It's comforting and beautiful.

I am beginning to mentally prep myself for the year ahead. I plan on fulfilling one of my hippie dreams by working in an organic food shop this fall. I will revel in it's hand grown glory. I will also, hopefully, be teaching yoga at the gym. Someday I plan to open my own shop...yoga, massage therapy, organic food/clothes/book store...there are none like it where I am going in Ireland, so I hope to save up for a while and get it off it's feet. How else will my inner dreadie sporting, pot smoking*, peace and love dude get satisfied?

*Nope. I have never smoked pot. I just imagine I am when listening to Mamas and the Papas 'California Dreamin' because that song puts me on such a high I always figure it's pretty damn close.*

I digress. I will be taking Algebra this fall. Aka those hellish things known as numbers and re-learning that you actually can do things with them other than making cool shapes with your fridge magnets. Obviously math is my favorite subject and I am dying with excitement at renewing our long-lost bond. My dad attempted to start this bond with me at the age of 8 with the statement 'Fractions are your friends.' I can tell you right now that they are, in fact, not and can reduce one to tears and anger in mere seconds. They are very temperamental and it is easy to tell who they like and who they don't. I apparently never got on their good side. If you did, well fantastic and I congratulate you. If not, I will be waiting at the end of this blog with hot cocoa or tea...even alcohol if you so wish. I feel I will be bff's with the latter by the time my final exam rolls around.

I'm going to end this as my wine glass does. Slowly and purposefully.

So...

Goodnight. ;)

I am experiencing my first afternoon thunderstorm of the summer. Sitting comfortably on the couch browsing through useless parts of the websphere, I looked up to see the grey rolling in...the trees blowing from side to side just a bit harder...that beautiful fresh smell right before the rain begins comes filtering in. The sky grows darker and I don't even bother to flip the light switch. Instead I flip on beautiful tunes that match the irregular rhythm of the storm building...violins and ooh's merge with the flashes of light, the smashes of thunder. The thunder has always been my favorite. As a child I was never afraid of it. Instead, I would dance to it. It was a beat I was never clumsy to...it inspired me. It was as if the beginnings of time were speaking to me through every low, resonating rumble. Letting the world know it was still there. The wind is blowing harder now in magnificent gusts that sweep the leaves violently, passionately, side to side. Just as suddenly it stops and they are solemn again, gently moving as if afraid to give the world a glimpse into their wild inhibitions. The rain begins to fall now. Gently at first as if to calmly say 'Hello, Old Friends.' to the ground below. Before you know it the world around you has burst into a full orchestra of sound, movement, and light. A reminder to us that our existence is fleeting while it may come and go as it pleases. A beautiful, sweet reminder I think.

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So old blog, it's been a while since you and I have crossed paths! I began this blog without knowing why I wanted it. I just knew that I enjoyed reading others so much...I enjoyed the new points of view on life they brought to my own. More than anything I loved reading about them. Being an avid reader since childhood, other lives and stories have enticed me for as long as I can remember. At times because I was dissatisfied with my own life, but mostly because I wanted to know about the world. About it's people, places, and ideas. So I went ok! I can share mine, pish posh, no prob! The problem was that I had no ideas. At least that's what I thought initially. The last thing I wanted was this blog to turn into a whiny, depressed emo kid whom I'd long rid of (except for my desire to break out my Chucks and headbang now and then). I want to talk about my daily adventures...my inspirations...my failures...even the absolute surreal joy I get out of eating Goldfish Crackers mixed with M&M's. The things that make life what it is. Those everyday things that make me ordinary...but maybe to someone else, they will bring the joy that I get from some of my favorite blogs. Who knows? If anything, the writing will bring me joy...:)

Speaking of the surreal joy I get from eating Goldfish Crackers mixed with M&Ms, yes - I just got some. And it is surreal. And joyous. The perfect salty/sweet snack, especially for roadtrips. To this day I get the craving for it while listening to my first trip home from college mix. When your poor and living in a cinder block box with gross cafeteria food, cheap snacks such as these are heaven in a ziplock bag. Trust me on this one. Plain goldfish are a thing of the past, my friends.

So I've been thinking about doing something for quite some time since my friends Kyle and Emily began it. The "No 'Poo Challenge" - No shampoo folks. No conditioner. They did it for 6 weeks, and Kyle as far as I know is still doing it. Shampoo has so many chemicals, some of which are toxic, that are bad for your skin and hair. It strips your hair of its natural oils, making your hair look like the mafia gangsters by the end of the day so you want to wash it again, thus repeating the cycle...while conditioner coats it, just making it appear to be shiny and healthy(like those Pantene Pro-V commercials where they swish their blindingly gleaming hair everywhere). I am SO hardcore with my shower and post-prep hair routine for the day that at first the idea of this would be something my friends would laugh in my face for if they heard I was trying it. That's partly why I want to do it...lately doing things I never do is a recurrent theme. And I like it. I'm also doing it because it's good for me, good for my wallet, and good for the environment. I will only be 'washing' every 3 showers with 1 TBSP of baking soda mixed with 1 cup of warm water, and using 1 TBSP of Apple Cider Vinegar/1 cup of warm water for a rinse to soften and moisturize it. Otherwise, just using warm water minus the 'poo. Anyone who is interested, here are some links I used for research:

http://frenchtoastfrance.blogspot.com/2008/06/shampoo-alternatives.html

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/337703/what_is_nopoo.html

http://thephoenix.com/Boston/Life/40141-No-Poo-Do/

http://www.naturalfamilyonline.com/go/index.php/389/why-you-should-go-no-poo

http://www.naturemoms.com/no-shampoo-alternative.html

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-394226/Could-survive-shampoo.html

http://www.motowngirl.com/content/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=52&Itemid=45

Now it's time for me to head off to Yoga training...another thing I am loving even though I have sprained my ankle and am very awkward doing well...anything.

Yoga Yoga Yoga

It was my second day of Yoga training today. I am taking a 5 week intensive RYT 200 certification through a local hot yoga studio and am thoroughly ready to get my mind, soul, and body's arse whooped.

Years ago my mom was seriously ill with Fibromyalgia and various other things. It was so bad that she couldn't even walk normally and had to use a cane. My mom is an amazing woman who loves life, and even though her cane was covered with Goofy and Tigger stickers, it was hard to see her tied down to that piece of wood. She began doing Yoga videos at home, and the transformation in her was incredible! She was touching her head to her knees within weeks as we all watched her grow stronger and more sure of herself. Later on her ailments were all attributed to stress. Imagine that, huh? She went off the meds, off the cane, and is now a Personal Trainer/Yoga Teacher/Registered Dietician in Training. She is my inspiration and my hero.

She began doing Hot Yoga about 3-4 years ago. I went a couple of times, and as I hated breaking a sweat doing anything, I loathed it. But I kept going, and now I can't imagine my life without it! Yoga has opened my eyes to so many things about myself I would often keep hidden or suppress. It has changed me for the better...and it has affected me to the point that I want to help spread my passion to others and teach.

Today author and scholar Dr.Graham Schweig came and spoke to the four of us in the training on 'The Philosophy of Yoga' and the Bhagavad Gita. He is an inspiring speaker, even if not the most modest. Admittedly, it was hard for me to enjoy someone who didn't 'talk the talk, walk the walk'...no matter how good his book is, I don't particularly like it rubbed in my face. We have one more lecture with him, so I hope there will be a little less of that then.

In other news: French Bread Take 2 was a giant flop! It didn't rise to the height it should have, but me being curious, I baked it anyway. It didn't brown at all! Soooo take 3 will be coming shortly. I think I overkneaded it...? Maybe I should start with an easier bread. But I am way too stubborn for that one, folks!!

I'm at an odd place in my life...culture shock? Culture re-adapation? America is a country of convenience. I didn't really miss that in Northern Ireland. However, I do love Cheesy Chips. After a pint of Guinness they are pretty much brilliant. Otherwise though, I miss seeing fields of real-deal green out the window...interstates and fast food restaurants don't fill the bill. Granted, I have the beach...but all of this is not so appealing without someone to share it with, I suppose. My nights are lonely. And I'm complaining. I can't wait to be back out in the world again...spreading my wings over everything I've missed. Maybe I'll pick up French Bread skills along the way.

Hello's and How Do You Do's

I have a love affair with my senses and combining them in any way possible. For example: Currently I am writing while eating a piece of chocolate while also listening to the enchanting music of Carla Bruni. Can life really get any better at this moment? I won't overanalyze that question and just go with a loud No. Perhaps an Amen.

I have always been a faithful reader to my 'Blogs' folder in my Favorites list...but I've decided it's about time I join the masses and put my own voice out there. Someone's gotta hear it right?

I am currently 21 and going into my last year as a theatre student. Having just returned from a semester abroad in Northern Ireland with not only a changed outlook on life, but a fiance - I'd say the next year will involve a lot more changing and growth. I can't wait to gobble up every little juicy bit, no matter how under or overcooked. May is graduation, June is the wedding, and as of then, I will be a permanent Northern Ireland resident.

My interests cover everything from learning how to bake a French Baguette to hiking the Mourne Mountains to opening my own yoga studio to working with refugees to singing in a band to publishing a book of poems to sketching daily to getting a tattoo to going green to living and loving my future husband and wee darlin's to traveling anywhere my feet will take me to breathing and grasping and absorbing and LIVING.

I want to write about my daily adventures here...even if they are about my first failed attempt at French Bread. Attempt two is tomorrow. Bring it on yeast.