i want to live again

"Clarence! Clarence! Help me, Clarence. Get me back. Get me back. I don't care what happens to me. Only get me back to my wife and kids. Help me, Clarence, please! Please! I want to live again!"

Every day since I quit my job, has been the best day of my life. You are thinking, "couldn't be that bad...you're just being dramatic." What I mean is that I have been transported to a state of my life that has helped me to realize how wonderful it really is. I am living in an endless weekend, where people are spoiling me with fun. Christmas, family and friends. Everyone is paying their last respects and no one can be angry with me because they may never see me again (or so it seems.) I ask if someone can make time for me, and they do. They drive from all over to visit, bring gifts and tell me nice things about myself and that they will miss me. They are jealous and know I will have a great time, as if I was a movie star.

Right now I am thinking, why am I leaving? This is great! I can't imagine much better. Why am I not just going on a 10 day disneyland vacation and returning back to this magical life where snowboarding, good friends and free time could await me? Maybe even a boy that would date me. I have freedom to burn all the candles, to throw away old junk that I know I don't need anymore, to drink that special bottle of rum, to invite 10 people over every night, to eat whatever tastes good and to be wonderfully careless and unproductive with my time.

Then I must remember my old life. My job. My restlessness. My overwhelming desire to see new things, to sketch different places. To write about different foods and exhilarating experiences. When I remember these things, I know that going was what I had to do. Without the going, there would be no appreciation for what I had and what I will have again. If there is anyway that you could have this out of body experience like I am having, without actually going, I would recommend it. Drink your rum, throw away your junk, and invite your friends over like it is your last chance.

snapshot

my grandpa, in his chair, with my baby cousin anthony this past summer. couldn't love them any more!

mewwy cwizmas

That was another nice Christmas for the Lenssen family. Everyone at Grandpa's house kicking back and watching the babies play. I enjoyed my usual spot at the top of the stairs, listening to all the talk and watching out over 15 or so of my family members. I always chat for a little bit, until I run out of words and then retreat to my observer mode. Luckily Grandpa built his house with a great room so we can all be with the fireplace and each other, and I can sit halfway up.

Things are changing every year now. I don't mind it anymore though since dealing with the first round of change in my teens, which threatened my nearly perfect childhood full of perfect memories. As soon as I realized that I couldn't stop it, and that things can be okay even as they are different, I could welcome new people and new traditions. Marriage, divorce, babies and death are shaping things up differently all the time. I think I am pretty much the same as when I was 4, but some people are fortunate enough to get on with things.

I feel really relaxed now. What, leaving the country for 2/3 of a year in 9 days? No way! I just read an entire People magazine, cover to cover. And worked four Suduko puzzles. And played Settlers and Scrabble. I'm practically on a beach vacation. Minus the beach. And the vacation.

christmas eve

I've been alternating between pieces of fudge and cinnamon rolls for 24 hours, at the brink of fullness. There have been occasional sprinklings of cookie and eggnog too. At Christmastime, I try to only eat what is really my favorite, so as not to over-indulge.

It was time for a walk. I set out around my neighborhood to see how everything was doing. I stopped to wish well the remaining stands of douglas fir and cedar trees tucked in amidst rectilinear homes. Seems like the gray and beige colors are more than the green colors these days. There were lots of places where cheap small homes were bulldozed to make way for cheap giant homes, their cavernous bellies awaiting to be filled with the morsels of future Christmases. Belching for sofas, televisions and little-tykes plastic play homes.

It was especially nice to walk around my old primary school. Some of the same teachers are still there along with some of the play toys I hung upside down on 15 years ago. I saw some kids playing football on their front lawn. A big sister and her kid brother. They were reenacting the Seahawks game that their parents were probably watching inside. They were rolling around on the ground, in the cold, wet grass. I can't remember when it was that I stopped doing that. When did I start caring about grass stains on my knees and my sweatshirt getting covered with rain? I wish I still didn't care. I wish I didn't pay $90 for jeans and notice the difference when I part my hair on one side versus the other. So it goes.

Not having a job has not sunk in yet. I know I said goodbye, cleaned off my desk, and went out for happy hour after my last day. But I was expecting feelings of elation, raised fists, or even jumping for joy as soon as I left the building. Didn't happen. Maybe I'll feel it next week when I sleep in. Or a month from now when I am juicing apples 8 hours a day in the shadow of the Andes. Or maybe not till 3 months from now when I am catching waves in the Indian Ocean. Or maybe never. It will be as though I had a bad dream and slowly woke up to real life with a yawn and a smile.

for our viewers at home

arrivederci

9:18am - All notes, binders, catalogs sorted and returned to their rightful places. Project work delegated. Desk looking very forlorn. All set!

10:26am - Updating graphics in marketing documents. Establishing MySpace account. Length of day seems endless.

11:23am - Searching Myspace for people from high school. Updating blog with travel spin.

12:53pm - Catching up on emails and recounting last hours. Starting to feel like end of graduation party with classmates. Last meal coming up soon. Oh, also continuing to update marketing documents. And refraining from Myspace searches.

3:02 - Falafel lunch. Last looks at downtown in daylight. File resizing in marketing library. One hour to go.

4:56 - Okay, so two hours. Now, its time to go. Let the awkwardness begin, and end quickly.

this is our last goodbye

I hate to feel the love between us die.

I don't care for goodbyes. I either expect too much, or fear the worst. I expect him to whisper something lasting in my ear just before we part ways. And dread him even touching me and telling me its been an honor. And for her, its just going to be sad. And with her, totally phony and I may have to lie about my feelings. Awkward goodbyes. Joyful goodbyes. Heartache goodbyes. Empty Goodbyes. Hopeful Goodbyes. And so they start. Have started already.

Tomorrow is my last day at work. The very last one. 2 years and 4 months ago I said, 'Yes, I'll do it. I'll come here 5 days a week, every week, with no more than 3 off in any given year. That sounds like a fair exchange for a chunk of cash." Tomorrow, I will take those words back. And take my time back. And take my debt back.

The best days of a boat owner's life are the day he buys the boat, and the day he sells it. So it is with me and my work, to date.

three-quarter life crisis

Just completed the annual holiday office gathering for 2005. My third gathering. There was chatting, and eating, and drinking of wine. The highs and lows of the year. The standard gift bags with local gift certificates.

After the party ended, and all the parents had left to gather their chicks, I helped to clean up. Everyone was gone except one young guy and one boss. We got to talking before I left and had a long conversation about what it is that people are doing with their lives. We all had the sense that you've got to go bravely after a meaningful, personal life or else the pull of wealth and stuff and American style success takes you over. My boss has friends in their 50s that never went and did the things that they wanted to. Something about fear and expectations and apparent responsibilities kept them from it and now they wonder what it is that they have instead.

The discussion was based upon my trip, but it wasn't traveling that we were talking about. It wasn't even being abroad or any place in particular. Theres just this thing called the rat race that gets you. Sucks you in. And you have to fight against it and decide when you have enough. I heard stories of people who picked up their families and tried something new. Something they could have more ownership in and it worked out for them. And then the people that had a period of abundant life, and lost it again along the way. It was encouraging and scary. So few people seem to find what it is that they are looking for. And I believe that we will never be completely settled in this world. Not when greed and world policing are the order as perfect children die of preventable diseases. There has to be something that you will look back on and say, 'that was my best decision.' What will it be? Something that you can feel satisfied with or something that seems mediocre?

Maybe for me, I will say, traveling around the world in my twenties. Or marrying that great man that I always waited for. Or having my sweet babies that taught me more about humanity than all my months abroad. Or maybe when I moved to the beach in Mexico and surfed to my heart's desire. Or when I bought that piece of land with my friends and lived in the country, in peace. Oh, I could think of more things all day long. Maybe I'll write them all down someday in case someone else runs out of ideas and needs one.

expecting not to expect for a while

Weekend: Score 9 of 10.
Friday: Couch+National Lampoons Christmas Vacation+Wine+Book
Saturday: Laundry+Lasagna+Friends over
Sunday: Lay on Futon with close friends in pajamas till noon+take a walk+go to Ashley's baby shower+Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Saturday night, I had a great evening with a herd of friends over from near and far to eat lasagna and play Settlers. We noisily argued over the game, laughed at each other's jokes, and drank wine. Very merry. I played as a team with Josh and we solidly moved up from a slow start to a definitive victory. Complete with interruption of the leader's longest road with a settlement! Note: If you are not playing this game, I highly recommend you start. Its been something of a sphere of influence on my whole social situation for the last year.

Ashley's baby shower was so great. Normally, I am not a huge lover of showers in general, but my wariness wore off quickly seeing lots of friends, sharing good food, and celebrating a new life. For the first time at a baby shower, I imagined myself in Ashley's situation, and didn't become nauseous. I think I even liked the idea of having some kids and thought, 'hey maybe in 5 years, that could be me and I'm okay with that.' I loved feeling her belly and thus communicating with a 3 lb unborn baby girl. And Ashley looked great. I'll admit, with some of the gifts, that I thought to myself that brightly colored, noisy things made of plastic and flame retardant cotton shall never enter my home or prime my children for the pump of kiddie commerce. Several of them though, were so precious and made me genuinely smile. My children will have to live their first years with a mix of used goodwill items, homemade clothing and interestingly shaped sticks and leaves to play with. Poor guys will be so nerdy but will hopefully appreciate nature, living sustainably, and having a good imagination, which is more important.

I also enjoyed the kitchen talks that occurred as dishes were washed and platters were snacked to completion. It's fun having married friends. The knowledge I have gained about things like birth control and cleaning supplies without having to go through the trials is invaluable. Women are so great. I think that we are a little bit more interesting than men (perhaps because of men). My girlfriends, especially, are such terrific people with character and spice to boot. Cheers to marriage and family!

triple crown

I just discovered on rip curl's website, a link to the pipeline masters surf contest LIVE webcast! So great to watch all the characters doing their thing live, on the North Shore of Oahu. I can't control the feelings of excitement that rise up to my fingertips when I see people surfing. I have got to find a way to be at the beach more often. This is ridiculous. I even had to get my board out the other day just to hold it and be with it. Funny because I am such a bad surfer. Terrible. Complete rookie. But its just too good to be true, even when you stink. Its my precious.

carpe diem

I feel so happy lately. As if I may burst if anything else good comes into my head. This is abnormal for the middle of a weekday. Everything feels so real to me right now. As if I only have 19 days to live, and that heaven is on the way. Not that I plan on dying, and not that I want my life to end - I love this life I have right now. Its difficult to explain. My priorities have sorted themselves out. Things previously on my agenda, like having my sweaters organized into three equally sized piles on the shelf seem insignificant, and that's freeing. Worrying about if I am spending my time in a productive manner - no more. Things like spending time with people I enjoy, making jokes at every opportunity, wanting to kiss beautiful mountains and staying up late to watch movies in spite of the morning alarm seem to be what life is all about.

4 days left to work. It feels like I was saying "45 days to go!", just yesterday. I don't even have a paperclip train anymore. Just a paperclip. And soon, its going to be someone else's paperclip. Good riddance. I need no paperclips in my life for a while.

I just had a sweet exchange of emails with Maria, our host mom in Mendoza, Argentina. She says (in spanish) that it is very hot, to bring a hat, and that they await our arrival. She also wished us feliz navidad y comienzo de ano!
How cool is that? Its going to be great living with her family, working in her garden and orchard and canning her fruit! Wwoofing is great!

rudolph

Here I am, coloring a CAD drawing of a Porsche in illustrator for work. I think if someone told me that I would be doing this a few years ago, I would have been super excited that you could draw cool stuff on the computer, and get paid for it. But its not that fun to me anymore, unfortunately. But things are tired at the end of a season, and I am too. Tired of doing whatever it is that the season requires, and giving in to the change that is essential to life. We must have winter to bloom in summer. And I must have a break from this screen so I can be fruitful in front of it again in the future.

I met my new favorite person yesterday. His name is Rudolph. I know that sounds lame, since its Christmastime, but thats not who I mean. Wroo-dullf, as he pronounced it with a medium German accent, is a very small, old man, who was previously just one of my imaginary walking friends. That is, people I always saw on my walk home, named and made up stories about to entertain myself. Rudolph uses a walker, and wears a long tan overcoat and hat. He is about 5' tall and moves at about the speed of a snail.

I have several times looked from afar to make sure he got up a ramp, or over a curb on his way to his bus stop. But last night, he was just about at the intersection across Boren, where I have witnessed him crossing alone, stranded out in the middle of the street as the lights turn against him. I asked him if he would like me to cross with him, and he surprises me with a sharp mind and quick speech. He allows me to walk with him, but only after I assure him that it is no trouble, I have nothing to get to and he is going my way. He says good for me to be caught up on things - he is falling behind. He tells me that he had a stroke years ago, which has left him "a little behind the eight ball." He is thankful, though, that he did not lose his speech or mind. He wishes he could have seen me before, but apologized for having to be focused on his walking instead of all looking around like I can. He tells me a little more about himself, and how he knows all the walking signals in the area. We use one light cycle to get down the curb cut onto the road, then the next to cross, making it to the fourth lane before the opposing light is green and all cars wait for him to get to the sidewalk. It must be so scary for him. He can't really look around, so he just hopes for the best. And I hope people see him, even in the dark. I was glad to stand in between him and the traffic for at least one day. He was so kind and thanked me for my assistance and said he was pleased to meet me.

I was overwhelmed with love for him and the desire to walk with him anyplace he needs to go. He is a most valuable member of our society, and I hate to think of him stranded in the dark in any intersection. I think that I really enjoy older folks, especially those who are brave and state that they, "must keep walking, as long as they are alive." He is a real inspiration to me and I can only hope that I am so positive and well-mannered when I am small and with a walker. When I was a kid, I was really afraid of old people and missed some opportunities to care for them. I feel indebted now, and imagine that I will start investing in older people instead of high schoolers when I finish this next season of travel.

Eldercab - "For when you are feeling too old to drive"

sneaking out

I'm pretty well packed up here at the office. My Radiohead poster just came down. Its been hanging stylishly behind me for two+ years, put up in a passive act of youthful defiance. My retro, colorful, tupperware pencil cups and spare change in the drawer; all gathered together for moving on. Its time. I'll leave my rabbit hair desk kitty until later. I need it here for the last 10 work days.

I think my last two weeks will be filled with teaching others all my computer tricks and skills. Passing the torch for Illustrator, Indesign and GIS. I am thankful to have learned so many skills while here. I didn't even know Illustrator out of college. Now I'm here and there, coloring and texturing. Creating graphics for The People. The people who need to understand their local road projects and park plans. Visual communications...I should remember that for my job search in the future. Visual communication skills.

I hope the next person who sits here, in the corner of the red zone, will have a better go with things. More work to do and a fresh attitude for all that marketing. They probably don't even want me here anymore, with my bitter tongue and sarcastic glow. I'm really doing them a favor by my leaving.

weird kid alert

I was feeling extra thankful for my noise canceling headphones yesterday after work as I took the bus to my friend Claire's house for dinner. There were two high school boys that were waiting for the bus, and then sitting right next to me all the way to Market Street. They were speaking loudly about things like math tests and how easy college was going to be. One kid made me smile (but only because I cancelled out his annoying voice with Fergie singing about startin some drama). I thought he could be in Napolean Dynamite. His hair was too long and fell all over the place. He wore a green t-shirt with some sort of Irish Celtic knot printed across his chest in gold. He had an old windbreaker on that was flying open, of course. Tapered jeans with ink stains on them, and white running shoes that looked to be older than he was, with the soles tearing away from the top. He sat with his knees crossed. It reminded me how tough high school kids are to deal with. They are all moody and unsure, changing faster than the semesters and driving their parents nutzo. They either have an attitude problem, are painfully shy, or just plain weird and strong willed. Guarantee that kid's mom keeps after him to get new shoes and a haircut, but he refuses. The roughness makes him feel more like Aragorn, his hero. And all the other kids in calculus club wear old shoes too...

will work for something better

Coming into work this morning, I saw the third person interviewing for my job. It felt pretty great. I'm really getting out of here! I wanted to warn the girl about what lay ahead, but she is a different person and may enjoy the work/lack of work that will be headed/not headed her way. Just like how the newest person here enjoys irrigation design and is excited about getting certified as an irrigation designer. Thank goodness! I had to duck that for months till she came along. It gives me hope that there may be an office job out there that would be nice for me. I'm not committing to finding one just yet though...when I get back everything is an option. Waitress, janitor, Real Change sales, REI backpack fitter, part time, quarter time - anything goes.

happy thanksgiving!

What a joyful weekend I had! Melissa and I hosted the Urban Family Thanksgiving, and had 14 of our friends over for a thanksgiving meal. I had three of my best friends stay over all weekend, and spent time playing settlers of catan, preparing the food, and eating.

The food was delicious, and I'll admit that I am proud of myself, and the other chefs in the kitchen. One 18 lb bird in brine and stuffed with homemade cornbread stuffing. Mashed potatoes, apple crisp, gravy and salad. People brought lots to share, and I think it was in my top three tastiest thanksgiving meals ever. I enjoyed the work of preparation, serving, and even cleaning up. Something about being in the kitchen with friends, all working together. Even after we scrubbed and soaked the house down Sunday, it still smelled of turkey dinner in the kitchen, and reminded me of all the great people that were there the day before. I'm getting hungry for leftovers just thinking about it!

today i used sapmoss shampoo in your hair because...

Things have really gotten done today, on The Day We Get Things Done. I'm exhausted, and I still have black beans simmering, rice cooking, and cornbread in the oven. Its a lot harder running obscene amounts of errands than sitting on your bum in front of a screen. Mostly, The Day We Get Things Done was spurred on by the need to go to the travel clinic and get scared out of our wits of things like Japanese Encephalitis, Schistosomiasis, and Infectious Diarrhea. Melissa and I both left with bandaids on each arm, a stack of papers that would need their own suitcase, and that feeling of ickiness that being 'well-informed' will give you. I was tempted to dump the pile of papers into the first recycle bin I came across, but reconsidered thinking that I ought to try to soak some of the information up before I end up in Vietnam with a rash and a fever and have no clue.

I was at the hair salon (okay, beauty school) losing about a pound off my shoulders and encountered the familiar weirdness that I get when I have nothing to contribute to the conversation. How do I style my hair? Does combing it out most days count? What types of product do I use? Ah yes, proudly, shampoo and conditioner! When was my last haircut? I think it was warm out.... The girl was nice enough, and didn't preach essences of herbalness to me or take me on a tour of the product galleria, but I still felt plain and sloppy around it all. In a good way though mind you.

Halfway through my cut a woman sat down in the chair directly across from me. The mirror separated us, but I knew enough by the last 4 inches of her ankles, and her feet. She wore black fancy pants and some wooden heels with a single, wide, black leather strap across the top of her foot. The strap had rivets and a large, rectangular rhinestone buckle. Her toenails were bright pink, and just about ready to be repainted. She would turn her toes together, or lay her feet to the side as she talked about who knows what, in a girly, playful voice. I think she was talking to her girl about some sort of drying or gel methodology.

I have been reading a book and there is a person in it that is described as being able to stand for an hour over a pot of boiling beans, and feel completely content. He needs nothing except clothes, food and a relationship with God. And not in a self-edifying, presumptuous sort of way. He is described to just not be affected by America telling him to be financially secure, fit, attractive and popular with a castle of comfort built around him. He engages with people as fellow humans and sees our role in the world as more of a response to what is around us rather than a chance to establish ourselves in it. I was imagining the sparkly shoe lady, and Paul being stuck in an elevator or something. I have little tiny versions of both these people in me, and wish I could stick myself in an elevator to really figure out whats important to me.