I shouldn’t even be writing this now because there are a couple hundred things I need to be doing—vacuuming! Getting my shampoo out of the cloud room shower! Putting boxes in the basement—but I just wanted to say that, whoa, man, my trip is really beginning now. Yesterday I moved my stuff to my cousin’s garage and immediately went out for pizza and then came home and slept on the purple futon. I leave for New York in about an hour.
I’m in New York, where I will be seeing not only my dad and his family but also some pretty ladies until Sunday evening, and then I’m here for a couple of days to finish up last minute things like figuring out money and having lots of lunches and dinners out and packing the pack and saying goodbye to Seattle people for real. Thursday I drive down to Portland to hand off the car. Friday I fly down to Sunnyvale into the waiting arms of my fiancés Dave and Chrysa, Saturday I have another going-away party (do you live in the Bay Area? You’re invited!) at the indefatigable ABL, Sunday I go to another going-away party, not my own though, Monday my mom and sister pick me up and we go on a road trip down the coast all together, making a two-day stop at the Monterey Aquarium, and then, my friends, then, on Monday, July 31, I screw my courage to the sticking point and I get on the plane to Fiji. Fiji, where, when they’re not having coups, they’re having scuba lessons, hammocks, and beachside massages. Fiji, where my schedule will look like this: breakfast, hammock, swim, hammock, massage, lunch, hammock, stroll along beach, FREAK OUT BELATEDLY BECAUSE OMG I AM REALLY DOING THIS WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING, hammock, dinner, hammock, and then a little hammock before bed. And then the Monday after that I land in Auckland. This time next month I’ll be there, wearing my winter clothes and trying not to get killed when I cross the street.
Being on vacation before I leave for my trip doesn’t sound like such a difficult gig, I know, but rest assured that it’s been pretty hectic and emotionally overwhelming so far, and I only quit my job last Friday. Yeah. Man. In the last week I’ve quit my job, terminated with my therapist, had a going-away party, had my last dance class, and given away what feels like half my stuff and thrown away what seems like the other half. The party was so fun and chill that I had a hard time understanding that I really was saying goodbye to people for a long time; it really felt as though people had just come over to my friend Calin’s house just to hang out. It was at brunch on Sunday and class on Monday and at dinner last night that it’s started to hit me.
Oh, and can I just say? My last Monday night bellydance class just about killed me. We were in the middle of drills when Renee, who was subbing in for Sharon that evening, did this extremely dirty-looking stretch where you squat down and then, like, rotate your butt in a big circle, basically, and went “This one’s for Chiara!” And then she told everyone in class about the trip and asked what moves were my favorite and which I wanted to do that night, and then people started, like, giving testimonials about how I showed them how to do bicycle shimmy and how they were going to miss following my gigantic hips during class and pretty soon we were all hugging and sniffling and telling each other we loved each other and I made a schmoopy speech and beautiful women were grabbing my aforementioned butt and kissing me tenderly on the lips and wiping away their tears and telling me to wring every drop of experience I could out of New Zealand and I ASK YOU, what the hell am I supposed to do with all that?
And then everyone was so nice helping me move yesterday and going out for fancy pizza and giving me rides to the airport this morning. I’m in this fugue state right now where I’m really tired and stressed (hello,crazy breakout non-Pill skin! I’m sure my father won’t comment on you when I get off the plane this evening!) but really grateful for how sweet everyone is being to me and I haven’t really cried yet but I keep getting this weird shaky feeling in my stomach and I’ve read the entire Anne Of Green Gables series this week and it’s helped a lot but…
Still, still. I’m almost there. I’m almost there. Can you believe it? I’m almost there.
Comments
16 responses to “It Begins”
No, I can’t believe it. Craziness! I hope your next couple of weeks of travelling and visiting go well. Have fun!
Have fun, girl. You’re doing it!
Call me call me! Do you have my number? Do I have yours! I want to be sure I can see you this weekend!
Woohoo! Go you! Just keep breathing, baby.
Oh Chiara, I’m sooo sad I missed your party and last dance class! Damn my mother for breaking her hip and having the nerve to ask me to help take care of her! Aaah, well, she did change my diapers…heeheee. Have a wonderful, super, mind-blowing time. I don’t think I’ll see you until you come home from this amazing adventure. I’ll miss your luscious hips and warm hugs and sweet smile.
You are one of the bravest women I have the honor of knowing!!
besos,
Kym
You’re doing it! You’re awesome, and it’s going to be great. Also, your father can stick it, if he says boo about your skin. Remember, he’s not a reliable historian.
De-lurking to say good luck and have the time of your life! I am so jealous of your opportunity and will be waiting for your posts!
I am looking forward to meeting you!!
Rock it, Chiara! You’re awesome!
Just remember, BettyLou is behind you 100%.
I know this comment is, oh, months late. Nonetheless, I’d like to clear something up.
The reason Seattle does not have a “pirate store” like SF does, is that we have a spaceship-o-naut store instead.
(My five-year-old niece calls them, “space divers.” She knows. It’s that little tank of air that you absolutely must bring with you.)
Same writing project as the pirates, different (and new!) chapter. When I finallly kill my pernicious little writing project, I am so going to volunteer there. At the store.
I hope they sell Fisher Space Pens.
grrr. pernicious html tags.
sorry.
Along with all of the obvious risks you’re taking, what with putting your whole life in a lifeboat and paddling off to the unknown, I’d say among the biggest risks in particular I recognize is reading the _Anne_ series at such a tender time. Chiara, WHAT ARE YOU THINKING? I just couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. I mean, the lake of shining waters? The lover’s lane? Diana of the dimpled elbows — I could never! Just thinking about it all, the growth, the depth, it’s overwhelming. May all of your travels be informed by the hopefulness and reflectiveness of Anne.
Go you! :) It’s gonna be amazing! :)
eeeeee! I get to meet you soon! :)
Have a good trip! I’ll miss seeing you at the market.