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.



_______________________________________________________________

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. ;)