The Search for What?

One of my favorite aunts is about to undergo chemotherapy for ovarian cancer. Because I’m halfway across the world, there’s little I can do but send emails or occasionally catch her on Skype. Since I was a little, my Aunt Rita (the youngest of four on my mother’s side) has been the “wild” independent one. She was an international flight attendant, married and divorced young, had an abortion, and led the life of drinking, smoking and dating.

Now in her 50s and facing cancer, she admitted that she—like me—went through a lot of life confident in her independence and single fun. But at this point in her life, she regretted not finding someone, finding to be with her through this time and holding her hand. I protested that she wasn’t alone (my mom is there with her) and I certainly didn’t need a guy to take care of me.

“Of course you don’t, Jane, but take it from this old girl, stay OPEN to the possibility of love. That’s all I’m asking. You don’t want to end up like me.”

The part of me that is tired of being lonely completely agrees with her, but it seems to fight against the idea that I’m doing great on my own. I’ve been on a rampage of hobbies, traveling and hookups but still feel unfulfilled. No matter how hard or light I throw myself into things, I come up on the other side looking for an unknown something. Maybe that’s life? Maybe the unknown is what keeps pushing me forward to live life fully and completely.

 

 

Before Your Time

Slow down, you crazy child
you’re so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you’re so smart, tell me
Why are you still so afraid?

Oh, Kilimanjaro. How I both love and hate you. You challenged me in ways I never thought possible. You pushed every ounce of energy, emotion and life out of me and every time I thought I had reached that day’s destination, you presented another slope up and laughed.

And so what if I hiked 95% of the time alone as I watched people, including my own friends, run past me? I did it my way, slowly and surely. And yes, you may have knocked me down four hours from the top with your snobby altitude, but for a girl that grew up under sea level and has never climbed a mountain, I came and conquered.

2 weeks later, my mind is still mush. The memories of you are mashed together, leaving me confused and blurred, making me question if I ever experienced what I did. I feel removed, detached and almost emotionless about this grand journey. Images flash sometimes, but I still live with a heavy heart that I don’t understand.

Maybe I put too much stock in you changing my life. After all, Kilimanjaro, you are one of the 7 Summits, the roof of Africa and immortalized by Hemingway. Although the characters in The Snows of Kilimanjaro never actually try to climb the mountain, Harry goes on the safari to get his life back on track and views Kili as a symbol of truth, purity and goodness.

But did you change me? I still feel restless, unsure of the life I’m leading and the person I’m becoming. My fate is what I make of it, but I’ve found that often, no matter how hard I try, I still fall short. And that’s okay. That’s the part I need to learn. Life can’t be measured by the number of successes of grand goals, but small victories.

Kilimanjaro, I may not be back, but I’m going to continue to push as hard and make it to the top some day.

I leave with these great lyrics from Billy Joel. I need to learn from this song. I need to stop being consumed with this obsession of living my life to the fullest and cramming every adventure into every moment right NOW. And remember to enjoy the moments. The journey, not the destination.

Slow down, you’re doing fine
You can’t be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it’s so romantic on the borderline tonight
Tonight,…
Too bad but it’s the life you leave
you’re so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you’re wrong, you know
You can’t always see when you’re right. you’re right

You’ve got your passion, you’ve got your pride
but don’t you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don’t imagine they’ll all come true
When will you realize,
Vienna waits for you?

-Billy Joel, Vienna

The view after going up a vertical Barraco Wall.

I can never get enough of these clouds.

I’m so sick of hiking at this point.

Hakuna Matata

Last year while Greek island hopping, I swore the crystal clear waters and mountains and beaches were probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen or would see. The rich blues of Greece were the epitome of beauty, peace and happiness.

Then I went to Africa and was introduced to an entire new view of breathtaking. Instead of the bright blues and colors of Europe, Tanzania was all earth – browns, greens, dust. And all I could think was “wow.” Hanging out the rooftop of the Land Rover and looking out to the endless plains of the Serengeti was something I never thought was possible. Pictures can never fully capture the true scenery.

What was even more exciting was the wildlife! On paper, a safari sounded fun, but nothing to write home about. After all, how different could it be from Disney World’s Magic Kingdom? I hadn’t given it much thought due to all concentration on Kilimanjaro, but it ended up as a huge highlight. Camping in the middle of the Serengeti with animals roaming by our tents was nothing short of surreal.

One camp, in the middle of the night while going to the bathrooms, C discovered two lioness in the men’s bathroom. I was on the other side of the short wall, about to go (and I really needed to go) when I hear a growl, a bam and open the door to see him bolting out of the bathroom, yelling “lions in the bathroom!”

At another campsite, there were giant beautiful elephants hanging out, drinking water and wandering around as if it was a daily occurrence. What I would give to see  it sit on a car!

One of my favorite moments was watching a leopard eat a gazelle in a tree. While I usually get bored and change channels during these shows on TV (unless it’s Planet Earth), I was riveted to watch this beautiful creature go after his prey. Circle of life, indeed.

And then there was the herd of 40 elephants crossing our path. Just incredible!

So I have to admit, wildlife in its real setting was something I can’t really capture in words. It seems like a dream to gaze across endless plains and animals with no wires or gates. Just nature at its best. Too bad we missed the Serengeti migration by a month!

Thoughts and more pics on Kilimanjaro soon.

Pole Pole

Against all odds, I made it.

Okay, I made it most of the way; my body just refused the last 4 hours. Of course, I’m devastated, but this was out of my control, so there is nothing to do but be proud of how far I got. No one (and I mean NO ONE) believed I could do it, but strangely enough, I never doubted myself. Through all the pain, exhaustion and fear, I never lost faith. Maybe there really is an underlining confidence I never realized existed. Whatever it was that kept pushing me forward is something I need to always remember. Maybe the years of heartbreak made hiking a mountain a realm of possibility.

There were moments when I thought I couldn’t put another foot forward, times when I just wanted to collapse from exhaustion and pain. I hiked most of Kilimanjaro alone, at my slow slow pace, absorbing the scenery and thoughts of life. Anytime my mind tried to wander to something pleasant like my favorite beach on Naxos, happy moments with Pen or a delicious steak dinner, the thoughts would snap away, as if the memories never existed. Left, right, left, right. That’s all that would stick. All of the guides or porters were worried, mumbling among themselves if I could do it and at the end of each day, I proved them wrong until the main guide even admitted I was strong.

But on summit night, I felt anything but strong. Severe acute mountain sickness is nothing to joke about, but mentally, I wanted to keep pushing. It’s not a failure, of course, and I have to remind myself WHY I did this challenge in the first place: to learn to not be so hard of myself all the time, to learn to be proud of where I am and what I’ve done.

I came home to the bad news that my aunt had ovarian cancer. Other than that devastating news, I don’t feel anything different. I thought I would return, free of past guilts, feelings towards Pen, and ready to start a new chapter of my life. But life is life and when I return to work Monday, things will be back to normal. Sigh.

More on the amazing safari and Africa in general soon!

Courage

So I did it. I put my feelings out there for him just as a FYI so he would know. I told him and it went exactly how I thought it would. My own intuition scares me sometimes. It’s funny, isn’t it? In the beginning, I figured this would happen. For a fleeting moment, I thought “This will be like Mr. (former) Anti-Committment; he chases after you, you’re half-interested. But in the end, the situation is swapped and you always get hurt.” Oh, how I need to learn.

He was supposed to be different. And he is. But when it comes down to it all, I guess all guys are the same; this one just executed it differently. Surprisingly, I’m not angry at him. I have no regrets, strangely enough. More than anything, it set a hard reminder to myself that I’m better off on my own. I should have listened to my friend when he said, “If there was no talk about the future, there is none. Leave it.” I apparently need to start listening to him more.

The last time I felt like this was during the Mr. Co-worker situation in the beginning of the year. That one, I was stupid. This one, I wasn’t. Pen IS different. I’m not making excuses for him but I should have known his “casual” isn’t very casual. He’s never done this before. I should have known better. He didn’t run away from the conversation, however, and we remain good friends. But it still hurts a hell of a lot. It’s so strange. He did everything he was supposed to with respecting me. He did what I hope every guy will treat me like: buys dinner, holds me, makes sure I’m okay, talks to me. I told him in the future, if he ever does the casual thing again, he should probably stay away from cuddling, no matter how innocent it is. Maybe the other way is really easier. It’s harsher and a quick band-aid rip. Pen’s way drew me in and then I forgot reality sometimes. Hilarious that I was worried about hurting him in the beginning.

I’m not sorry for my feelings. I’m not sorry for everything that happened. I’m sorry that I didn’t speak up sooner; I’m sorry I was stupid enough to think he actually cared for me beyond all this. And yes, we’re friends, so he does care for me, but not in the way I thought he did. Is it always going to be like this? I don’t believe in The One, but I don’t believe that this is my life or my future. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to NY. I was fine before it; could have left it or taken it. But I can’t even say that I regret NY. I took a chance.

A lot of our convo seemed to be him commenting on how brave I was b/c when taking such giant risks like this, you have the courage to handle it when it goes wrong. Am I brave? I don’t feel it. I feel weak for having landed here, half in love with this guy that I thought would change everything. But maybe that’s just it. I do better when I’m on my own. I accomplish more on my own. I find my own happiness. That’s been my motto for a long time and I need to remember that. I’m going to climb Kili alone and I’m going to keep pushing forward, focusing on me. No more distractions, no more guys, no more swooning. Just Jane.

So I did it. I put my feelings out there for him just as a FYI so he would know. I told him and it went exactly how I thought it would. My own intuition scares me sometimes. It’s funny, isn’t it? For a fleeting moment, I thought “This will be like Mr. (former) Anti-Committment; he chases after you, you’re half-interested. But in the end, the situation is swapped and you always get hurt.” Oh, how I need to learn.

He was supposed to be different. And he is. But when it comes down to it all, I guess all guys are the same; this one just executed it differently. Surprisingly, I’m not angry at him. I have no regrets, strangely enough. More than anything, it set a hard reminder to myself that I’m better off on my own. I should have listened to my friend when he said, “If there was no talk about the future, there is none. Leave it.” I apparently need to start listening to him more.

The last time I felt like this was during the Mr. Co-worker situation in the beginning of the year. That one, I was stupid. This one, I wasn’t. Pen IS different. I’m not making excuses for him but I should have known his “casual” isn’t very casual. He’s never done this before. I should have known better. He didn’t run away from the conversation, however, and we remain good friends. But it still hurts a hell of a lot. It’s so strange. He did everything he was supposed to with respecting me. He did what I hope every guy will treat me like: buys dinner, holds me, makes sure I’m okay, talks to me. I told him in the future, if he ever does the casual thing again, he should probably stay away from cuddling, no matter how innocent it is. Maybe the other way is really easier. It’s harsher and a quick band-aid rip. Pen’s way drew me in and then I forgot reality sometimes. Hilarious that I was worried about hurting him in the beginning.

I’m not sorry for my feelings. I’m not sorry for everything that happened. I’m sorry that I didn’t speak up sooner; I’m sorry I was stupid enough to think he actually cared for me beyond all this. And yes, we’re friends, so he does care for me, but not in the way I thought he did. Is it always going to be like this? I don’t believe in The One, but I don’t believe that this is my life or my future. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to NY. I was fine before it; could have left it or taken it. But I can’t even say that I regret NY. I took a chance.

I don’t hate him; we remain very close friends. In fact, it was probably the most mature adult conversation I’ve had about this kind of stuff. I can’t even breath the usual words “jerk” or “asshole” or “spineless” in the same sentence because he’s not.

A lot of our convo seemed to be him commenting on how brave I was because when taking such giant risks like this, you have the courage to handle it if it goes wrong. Am I brave? I don’t feel it. I feel weak for having landed here, half in love with this guy that I thought would change everything. But maybe that’s just it. I do better when I’m on my own. I accomplish more on my own. I find my own happiness. That’s been my motto for a long time and I need to remember that. I’m going to climb Kili alone and I’m going to keep pushing forward, focusing on me. No more distractions, no more guys, no more swooning.

Just Jane.

Adoration

I hit my year anniversary in Austin last week. A year ago, I got into a ridiculously bad car accident on my first weekend here, which also happened to be my ex-bf’s birthday. This year, it was lingering in the back of my mind, but faded quickly as I laughed and screamed through the Coney Island Cyclone roller coaster. Last year, I was stressed and lonely and hysterical. This year, I spent a glorious beautiful weather weekend in NYC with old friends and the crush that seems to never fully go away.

Although I got late Friday night, I didn’t see him until Saturday evening due to busy schedules, the US Open and a checklist of people I needed to see. Up to that point, he had slipped from my mind as I busied myself preparing for Africa and he for a trip to Costa Rica. But when I walked off the subway and saw him grinning at me across the street, all doubts flew out of my head. Is it possible he got better looking since I last saw him?

He gave me options for our plans that night, one of them involving a long walk up a hill through the Cloisters. He being in the camp that I needed to train more for Kilimanjaro strongly hinted at that one so I sighed and agreed. The sun was setting over the Hudson, the weather was cool and there was green all around. It’s as someone directed the perfect scenery for a romantic walk.

We had dinner at a small Italian place by his apartment. Conversation was smooth and fast flowing, filled with laughter and teasing. He lamented over the true meaning of “adoration” and how sad he was it’s gotten lost through time due to the “cuteness” of the word “adore” and “adorable.” To truly have adoration for something is to love and respect and be passionate about it. His adoration is for tennis and Africa, where he did Peace Corp for years. Deep down, I hoped he would have adoration for me some day.

He’s not an emotional man; he’s passionate about a few things, but generally, a stoic person. On the rare chance he makes a comment about us or me, he’s sincere to the point I desperately wish for more moments. My friends find him overwhelming great, probably because he’s so opposite of my usual. As we’re riding the subway, Smallbone giggles and whispers, “He’s so dreamy, Jane! I’m in love with him for you.”

But all these happy good feelings are just that. I leave for Africa next week and I wonder if he’ll fade from my memories or if he’ll move on. There was no talk about the future. Maybe that’s what happens when you live in the moment. The DTR (Define the Relationship) was looming in my head, but I pushed it away. What’s the point? He’s there, I’m here and there’s nothing to debate. But when I fall asleep in his arms and he comments that we fit together very well, I find myself wondering about the future.

Reality bites.

Wanderlust

I may have lost my mind.

I’m going to NYC for Labor Day. This isn’t the smartest move, but the adventure carpe diem part of my heart is yelling at me, so I went ahead and did it. I’m worried, scared and excited to see old friends, but mostly to see Pen. Truthfully, he’s been so busy that there hasn’t been a truckload of enthusiasm from him, but I think I’m okay with it. If things go south there, I have many many friends to escape to. Better to regret something you did than did not do, right? I gave him an out and he didn’t take it, so looks like I’m about add another ridiculous thing on my list of crazy lately.

I’m also confused why I keep thinking money grows on trees. I’m generally a very frugal careful spender, but the older I get, the more I’ve been throwing it to travel. This year alone, I’ve been to Houston numerous times, St. Louis, New Orleans for Jazz Fest, California and Mississippi for weddings and now to NYC. A week and a half after I return, I head off to the adventure of a lifetime in Tanzania and Kilimanjaro. A week after that, I go back home for a wedding and then Houston again for a competition. Over Thanksgiving, I’m off to Puerto Rico for a week.

Whoever said “money doesn’t buy happiness” lied because if I had money, I could travel forever and travel brings my happiness. My old boss told me, “Have a fudgesicle and chill. You’re doing way too much math.” I don’t know how to quiet my mind down from the doubts, the worries, the “what ifs” of each decision I make. How do I find confidence in these choices?

Time to go play the lottery!

This Is Not a Love Story

He’s finally engaged.

I have a variety of emotions thrown at me when I find out. Part of the chaos is from just getting off the phone with Pen (see previous entry; more on this later). Part of me is stunned. I knew it would happen sometime and soon, but it still stung a tiny bit. We had plans to get dinner and catch up when I was in St. Louis, but he chickened out via text message (although it was his idea). I called him on it and we never spoke again.

He is, for me, what I am to Pen. That #2 in your life that liberates you of what you thought was the norm and showing the way things could be. He was the one that showed me all the physical stuff didn’t have to be used as a tool for manipulation or lies or control. It could be fun and something I could own for myself.

The tiny tick that hurts is that I was never good enough for him to commit, but like Mel told me, “Sometimes I think we’re all girl scouts and instead of ‘leaving our campsites cleaner than when we found them,’ we leave our men better than when we found them. We help them understand women better and, in some cases, understand themselves. And what thanks do we get? They find great relationships after they’re done with us.”

The truth is, as much as he hurt me, he also contributed to making me who I am now. Despite the last year being rough, I AM pretty proud of how far I’ve come. And as one man walks permanently out of my life, another steps in.

As hard as I’ve tried to follow the 2-day rule, I’ve found that my mind still wanders to another man, Pen (see previous entry). He actually calls. So I may have told him straight up he better keep in touch, even if it as only friends or I wouldn’t let him kiss me. It’s a first and I’m unsure how to handle a guy who treats me the way he does. But it’s ridiculous, isn’t it? This is the way it’s supposed to be. I shouldn’t be so in awe of these actions. But the more I thought about it, the more I was sure I wasn’t being swept up by all the niceness. There’s been plenty of nice guys that I wasn’t attracted to and I promised to never settle even when I was lonely.

So what does this mean? I have an opportunity to go visit NYC for Labor Day due to a possible free mileage ticket. I have possibly one day off I can squeeze out of work. I have 50+ friends I need to see there, but I think I would be very happy staying in with him all weekend. That terrifies me. This entire situation freaks me out. I lose my cool when I’m around him, chatting nervously like a little bird to fill up the silences that I’m not used to yet. When he says nothing and just looks at me, I get butterflies and have to blink away because his gaze is so penetrating.

He frustrates me often with his stupid simple man logic (“Wait, why are you complaining about the lack of women boots? You just said there were so many options when you walked in!”) and he likes the wrong sports teams. He goes to bed at midnight and gets up at 7am daily while I find my best energy late at night. Yet, I still want to keep him around to see where it’s going.

Going to NY signifies so much more than just a fun jaunt to the city. After New Orleans, St. Louis and Austin, it’s another home although I never lived there. Going there when I could be going somewhere new (and with Africa soon after) is a giant step. On paper, it’s a horrible idea. Why get attached? Whey get more involved when this is clearly going nowhere with the distance? Like Kilimanjaro, there’s 1000 reasons not to do it and only a handful of good ones. But oh, are those handful really good ones! I promised I would stay open to the possibilities, but not pursue actively. Getting on that plane is breaking all the rules.

Logic or heart? Which?!

Summer: Ok. I, like being on my own. I think relationships are messy and people’s feelings get hurt. Who needs it? We’re young, we live in one of the most beautiful cities in the world; might as well have fun while we can and, save the serious stuff for later.

McKenzie: You’re a dude. [to Tom] She’s a dude!

Tom: Ok but wait–wait. What happens, if you fall in love?

Tom: What?

Summer: You don’t believe that, do you?

Tom: It’s love, it’s not Santa Claus.

She & Him

The definition of strange:

Waking up with someone in the same bed and not because he happened to pass out next to you. It’s unfamiliar to fall asleep in someone’s arms and wake up back in them, even if there was moving around and separation in the night. It’s even more startling to be held for the sole sake of him wanting to be close to you and not because he’s thinking about how to get into your pants. And he’s not afraid to admit how much he enjoys it. He brings a present with him because his mother –like mine–taught him to never visit someone empty handed. It’s a book that I had been wanting for awhile; he remembers, orders it and wraps it in yellow tissue paper.

This is apparently how it’s supposed to be. The whole weekend completely threw me for a loop. It’s terrifying to have someone look at me the way he does. He seems me as a sensual and sexy when all I see is a clumsy awkward tomboy. In the places I see fat and wide hips, he sees beautiful curves and everything that makes a woman a woman. Where I see lopsided different sized breasts, he sees perfection.

While I’ve been on a carpe diem journey with guys in the last few years, he’s been reserved and conservative about his affection. He stood where I stood 3 years ago and it makes me dizzy to be standing in the place where most of the guys in my history were in my life. I teach and he learns and I watch as he lets go years of conflicts.

The time was filled with ups and down and lefts and rights, all shuffling around like a chaotic organized mess. In the quiet moments, I finally felt what a real relationship is like, something I haven’t experienced in seven years.

But the real world slips in on this early morning and we smile at each other under sleepy eyes as I drop him off at the airport. He returns to his NY world and I to mine. To my surprise, I don’t ask him what’s going to happen or the future or what this all was. I don’t even panic or worry. Apparently I’m growing, too. Instead, I leave the weekend just as it was: a great wonderful memory and time spent with a rare kind of guy. If he wants more, he’ll have to keep up his end and come after me.

Summer: “One day I woke up and I just knew.”

Tom: “Knew what?”

Summer: “What I was never sure of with you.”

The definition of strange:

Waking up with someone in the same bed and not because he happened to pass out next to you. It’s unfamiliar to fall asleep in someone’s arms and wake up back in them, even if there was moving around and separation in the night. It’s even more startling to be held for the sole sake of him wanting to be close to you and not because he’s thinking about how to get into your pants. And he’s not afraid to admit how much he enjoys it. He brings a present with him because his mother, like mine, taught him to never visit someone empty handed. It’s a book that I had been wanting for awhile; he remembers, orders it and wraps it in yellow tissue paper.

This is apparently how it’s supposed to be. The whole weekend completely threw me for a loop. It’s terrifying to have someone look at me the way he does. He seems me as sensual and sexy when all I see is a clumsy awkward tomboy. In the places I see fat and wide hips, he sees beautiful curves and everything that makes a woman a woman. Where I see lopsided different sized breasts, he sees perfection.

While I’ve been on a carpe diem journey with guys in the last few years, he’s been reserved and conservative about his affection. He stood where I stood 3 years ago and it makes me dizzy to be standing in the place where most of the guys in my history were in my life. I teach and he learns and I watch as he lets go years of conflicts.

The time was filled with ups and down and lefts and rights, all shuffling around like a chaotic organized mess. In the quiet moments, I finally felt what a real relationship is like, something I haven’t experienced in seven years.

But the real world slips in on this early morning and we smile at each other under sleepy eyes as I drop him off at the airport. He returns to his NY world and I to mine. To my surprise, I don’t ask him what’s going to happen or the future or what this all was. I don’t even panic or worry. Apparently I’m growing, too. Instead, I leave the weekend just as it was: a great wonderful memory and time spent with a rare kind of guy. If he wants more, he’ll have to keep up his end and come after me.

Summer: “One day I woke up and I just knew.”

Tom: “Knew what?”

Summer: “What I was never sure of with you.”

That Thing They Do

Why do couples like taking so many self-portraits and/or couple shots? Over and over and over again? And then post the same shot 5 times with varying head tilts and lighting? On occasion, the viewer gets lucky and it’s a black and white version with one object colored. Yay!

[/cynical rant]