From Depression to Identity

If there is anyone that still gets notifications about this blog, I'm sure you thought it was dead. And for all intents and purposes, it is. But I like closure, so I thought I would at least do that.

If you have been following this blog, or if you know me, you would know that the last 3 years have been really rough. And 2016 even more so (though not for the same reasons the rest of the US hates it...). My homecoming to Portland was great, but was filled with new dynamics and balancing acts of friend life and alone time. I was also blessed to be able to reconnect with people I did not keep in close contact with during my absence. My job on the other hand, was not fulfilling and lead to an excessive amount of anxiety. The morning in July where I sat in my car having a panic attack was my breaking point. I reached out to my employee assistance and learned that I have both depression and anxiety. For me, this put the past 3 years into a much clearer picture. I held off on medication, but eventually took the plunge - and I have to say, it's been a good ride. I don't feel myself spinning as much, and I have not had any horrible side effects.

Being miserable at work also had the plus side of driving me to seek counseling in my career and what would fit best for me - spoiler alert it is not in Compliance. Things were so-so through year end, I focused on decorating my apartment (creative me getting to play!), planning a party, the holidays and with time off before the New Year. After which, it became crystal clear how sick and tired work was making me. 2017 was to be the year for action.

And then the snows came :) but it provided an opportunity for a deep conversation with my friend Matt and an introduction to finding my name and identity from God (this amazing speaker, Jamie Winship put everything I knew about God, into a way that made more sense than any way I'd ever been taught before). And from that point, my life has truly been transformed. I tried so hard to seek any way possible to figure life out and to be relieved from my anxiety. But it was God all along, I just had to come to a point of complete surrender and to be in a place to hear what He had to say to me.

Nothing is perfect now, and I still have moments of anxiety about work. But I KNOW that anxiety and depression are not what define me. In knowing my identity, I have peace and joy. I am relinquishing control and seeking to step out in faith with my next step in life. Heck, I've actually joined a women's Bible study - something I haven't done since maybe 2007?

So in faith, I am seeking to take that next step in life. I'll probably always find something to do with accounting, but I want to have the opportunity to use the creative talents I've been given and to pour out the joy I have to others. And with that, I need to take on a new identity in my blog, because, it's not 'just me' anymore. I have a deep relationship with my Creator and have been blessed with the best fur baby I could ask for. I would not trade any of the pain I went through to finally get to this point. I will plan to write more, but the blog has yet to be created. I am excited to explore life and to MOVE from this place out into the world and into my life as it was meant to be lived.

Thanks for reading ~ Natalie

Natalie-ology

Damien Rice once said during a live session, that the thing he noticed is the more damned that he is, the better he is at what it is that he does, and that he's sorta bored of being damned. (Live at Fingerprints, Intro to Grey Room) I can relate to that with where I am in life right now. I'm so tired of being tired and broken, but in what I'm learning about myself is that when I experience that brokenness, I find it easier to create and be creative.

I had my heart broken today. And I'm sure you're thinking, Natalie, you wear your heart on your sleeve, you get your heart broken a lot, what's the big deal? Well, I can say, I know, you're right. But I want to cry UNCLE! Enough with the rejection already. I have had more than my fill of being rejected and rejecting others (because trust me, that takes it's own kind of toll on a person).

Let me start back a few months ago. My homecoming has been a mixed bag. I could have wept with joy every time I got to see a friend or realized how easy it was to hang out with the network of "gal pals" I still have here in Portland - and no doubt, I still feel incredibly blessed to have their support and to be able to support them through life. But the job I came into is not for me, or well it's making me realize that the angst I was feeling in my last job was more than just burn out or situational. So after lots of frustration and anger about being at work in something that didn't fit - I finally came to my knees with God. Begging for an answer. For a change. For something. I think that came in two ways. One in finding a career counselor who instantly recognized I was in the wrong spot and is helping me identify the whys and the whats would be better by starting from scratch and digging into how I want to feel and what causes those feelings - then pulling from her experience to point out careers based on them. And the second was probably an anxiety attack before work that triggered me reaching out to a psychologist for help.

I have since learned that I not only have anxiety (probably not the shock of the century) and depression. Both of those I realize are loaded words and probably thrown around too often in our society. But hearing the doctor say them was like a weight was lifted. The puzzle pieces started to fit together. Ah, could this be why I can sleep 8 hours or more every night and still feel exhausted every morning? Or is this why I could live in Europe and feel so utterly alone and sad in a space I always wanted to be? I think yes. The doctor made me feel good, in that she said I'd been coping fairly well, and that this trigger at work just brought it up. But that I should start to pay attention to myself more - notice when I'm anxious or depressed, what was happening, and to take steps to work through it (deep breathes, meditation, prayer for the anxiety and turning the depressed periods into something creative - as a lot of artists are most creative and focused when they are in their blue moods).

If you're as smart as I think you are, then yes, I can feel the depression lurking at the edges of my psyche. Of course, as I stated above I know the trigger. And I had an outpouring of love and encouragement today. As I'm trying to process this all in my head, I would say I'm doing better than normal (hear me out!).

1) I do not think my being rejected has anything to do with the way I look. I have come to appreciate who I am and what I look like. I do think I'm pretty and while I know I could lose some weight for a person of my height, I think all those art museums worked - I truly see the beauty in the curves of the woman's body and I can see those reflected in myself. And I am happy.
2) I do not think I was rejected because I was not smart. A lot of what I'm learning about myself, about how I process and my behaviors are, that I am smart and creative and I like the big picture. I know a wide variety of things and am by no means dumb.
3) I know that I 'dodged a bullet'. I logically get that, and I think even parts of my heart do as well, as I felt a weight release, I am finally able to 100% move on - though that doesn't mean I won't be processing the 'whats' and the 'whys' of what happened.

What is different about this rejection is trying to understand what I missed. Where did I go wrong. Why did I trust and open myself to this person. Is my ability to read people that off??? And why didn't I heed the advice of countless dating books or my past therapist. If a guy doesn't make an effort, he's just not that into you. I know that society has changed and the rules could arguably be thrown out the door. But I know that I am guilty of overthinking everything, when I think generally it's either F yes or F no for guys.

What I will do next about all this - I don't really know. I've been told if you want a relationship, you should treat it like looking for a job. And then I look back and go, haven't I already tried that? I've also been told, to let it go and it will come when you aren't looking. I have yet to have been able to fool my overactive brain into not looking or worrying about it. Even when I think I am not, BAM! I actually was.

All this to say, that tonight, after a rough day, I am putting my energy into something productive. I am piecing together IKEA furniture and pulling out my craft skills as I'm painting some of those pieces! Ack! At least I can look back on today, and feel my house is a little more put together, right?

Tindering Around

This dating thing is always interesting. When I first arrived back in Portland, I thought I'd let the universe guide things. And I ended up with a couple dates in the first month. Not too bad, but no love connection either. But as inevitably happens when I have friends doing online dating, I think "oh, I can do that too" and somehow summons up the energy to start swiping (maybe if I wore a cleaner on my finger, I could clean my phone at the same time. At least then something productive would be happening...).

I had one date early on (he was living in his van, I feel like that should be a requirement to state that early on...), and then work kinda messed things up. And those early conversations never materialized beyond pen pal status. So I'd been on an off maybe once a week, finding one or two new likes here. Going back and forth between saying something first and just waiting. I've also hilariously ran into people I know. :S

I'd been talking with this one guy for a bit now (a month!). The chat was interesting enough, talking about signs and moon phases. I couldn't quite figure out his 'look', but he seemed attractive and at least interesting to chat with. Of course, you're thinking uh... moon phases and you're interested? Or maybe you are more in the 'why did you not meet early on?'. I know, I know. I mean, I'm trying to be more open, and I like to see whether they have balls to ask me out. And finally he said he'd like to meet! After a couple failed non-plan attempts, I agreed to meet for a drink last night - maybe against my better judgement. I mean, he likes to make mead and go mushrooming?!

We met at a local beer garden (local to me), but while I got there early to take Jasper out and relax a bit, he didn't give me a specific time, and ended up getting there after 8 I think. Sounds awful, right?

Well unbeknownst to him, I was happily chatting away with another beer drinker - whom will call Kermit. Learning about everything from why there are little blue lights on top of the light poles in the area (it was a design choice), oh and the buildings are short near the street then go sky-high (to make it feel less daunting), that the OHSU building was the first one there and is set up to reclaim the shower water as toilet water. That Kermit was one of those on the panel against the $85M tram (which was supposed to cost $3.3M...), but he got his way that the buildings were set back 100 instead of 50 yards from the water. I know that at one point there was a proposal (by Kermit and friends) to turn PGE into a co-op, that sounds like it would have been pretty beneficial to us all....oh and I know where all the power for downtown comes from, in case you want to perform an Ocean's Eleven style heist.

Oh and you can buy a life insurance policy from someone, continue to pay their premiums, and then receive their death benefits. Sounds like something I read in Devil in the White City, but apparently it's legal. Kermit has a company that uses that money as capital to help new startups - specifically to find the next 'unicorn' (because sometimes your friends and family can't get you past the $30M fund raising mark) - a company like Brilliant Light Power, some new company that is developing a better power source based on dark matter and hydrogen (http://brilliantlightpower.com). I only understood any of the terms because of Big Bang Theory. :P

Anyway, Kermit and I were chatting when my date arrived... but no worries, the Kermit joined us and talked for awhile. So I wasn't left with Mead-boy for much longer. As I realized it was 9, and well, time for food and bed! Btw... he brought said homemade mead... it was made from honey, shallots, mushrooms, onion, and garlic... aphro-no-siac! Ick!Again, Kermit saved me by tasting it first...so no drugs.

I walked away being grateful to the universe for the randomness, and for strangers who rescue you from bad frogs (see what I did there?).

Five months in, and I have resolved not to give up!

After my "rough month" of a no-alcohol January, February's no coffee was a breeze. I chose this partially to ensure I was not so used to coffee that I was going to get any caffeine headaches and partially to save a little cash. While I did go to coffee shops a couple times, I generally stuck to chai (though I ordered a hazelnut latte once, but quickly remembered my resolution and changed it in time). It was a little odd not to just go have coffee with a coworker as a break from work, but it didn't seem to matter all that much in the grand scheme.

And going into March, while I have gotten a few coffees, I don't actually pass any coffee shops on the way to work. I've fallen into a routine to get to work, and walk to the main building for drip coffee. It's a nice start to my mornings. It's also much cheaper. 

Actually my life has fallen into much more of a routine in Portland. I am feeling like more of a homebody. But my social life has blown up. (I know you're thinking that makes no sense) I always have a friend to see. Someone to meet for drinks. Have over to chat or watch a movie. It's wonderful. I never realized how isolated I had become in Seattle. How much I did alone. It's also more challenging keeping up and going deeper with my friends. Before we barely had time. Now we have all the time in the world. My support network, while always there, has turned into a thick net. Woven with strong cords. It's been wonderful. It also made March's resolution to not play mindlessly with my tablet easier. Though I did use it while I cooked a couple times! And it's also been the reason I've been writing less. I think there is something to creativity coming from pain or a low place, kind of like an outlet. And while I don't feel low now, I think the past 2 months have been a bit of a reprieve from the mental battle. I've been distracted from my singleness and replaced a man with a plethora of friends and settling into a new life. 

It's not time to start stressing. It's time to get back to work on me. To get back to my resolutions to improve me. To break bad habits and comfort routines (uhh can you say falling asleep to tv every night a bit of a crutch?!). To take better care of myself mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

I did nothing for my April resolution.  And just looked at what it was and it wasn't what I thought. Dork! I thought it was no extra driving. It was no meat. Oops!! Well, let's pretend April and May are flip flopped. The no driving was based on a life that no longer exists. While I don't like to drive more than I have to, my options to drive less are different and I haven't figured them all out yet. There is no vanpool to ride. My commute is at least 10 miles less a day. So I'll move on to May. 

No meat, eh? Well I guess today was an inadvertent cheat, I had chicken and biscuits for breakfast and like the best duck confit poutine for lunch. As I'm writing this. I think I may have to shift. Not sure how easy Seoul will be with no Korean BBQ. And now that you've wandered down Natalie's crazy path with me. I'm switching to what June is. No tv. Gah! My crutch. F it. Can't push it off forever! Goodbye Netflix. Goodbye BBT. Goodbye Family Guy!  I hope my electric bill goes down at least... 

Sorry for the lapse in writing. Also, sorry for never saying goodbye Seattle. You were a great time and I wouldn't trade being with you for the world. I am now who I am because of my time there. I would never trade the close friends I made. The great work experiences I had (both good and bad) or all the growing up I did. I left a young silly girl and came back hopefully a more reasonable silly woman. ;-) I told you long ago, I was on #TeamEdward. Jacob was a fun time. It was time to go home. (If you have no clue what I'm talking about, and you may think that most of the time you don't. I wrote a post long ago comparing PDX and SEA to Edward and Jacob (yes I am a big nerd). I decided to stay and play then. I've come back to me now. ). I have so many thoughts and feelings about the move, though the predominate one at this point is happiness! After SEVEN and a HALF YEARS, I am home. I survived having Oregon license plates for that time, and only a Washington ID for the past year or so. While it hasn't all been Roses in the Emerald City, it was been a good ride and I have no regrets. I know I am, I'm sure I am... a fan of my friends 

How Dry Am I?

How dry I am, how dry I am

It's plain to see just why I am

No alcohol in my highball

And that is why so dry I am

It has been 2 weeks into the new year, and I am having dreams about telling people I am not drinking and feeling pretty lame in my dreams. I am so dry, I wish I was a dry martini.

When I told a friend about my current year resolutions, he suggested I blog about how they went. It is t-minus 17 days until this month is over and I can drink again. Now you may be thinking, "Come on alchy, how hard is it not drink for 31 days!? AND you cheated 2 days, so really, you should be fine!"

I mean, the first few days were fine, but I was coming off of New Years Eve celebrations, went to movies which aren't necessarily drinking arenas. Generally last week was easy to say the least, I hunkered down and stayed home more. I am focusing on losing weight before my best friend's wedding, so I was at least doing a bit of a workout.

I'm in week 2 (and used up a cheat day last Saturday to taste wine - wait...if I only tasted it, did I drink??). I weighed myself last Saturday morning, no weight loss. I have felt no overall change in my energy, no decrease in any beer gut (I am not a huge beer drinker lately), nor have I saved money, I have seen no noticeable anything compared with all those other blogs claiming lots of health and mental benefits. Instead, I think my liver is bored. It has basically NOTHING to do now! I am worried it is withering away from lack of activity.

Though even if my liver isn't bored, I am. I feel very hermit-y, and while that is good for my pocketbook, I still have had other expenses (car, condo, health) that seem to be negating any savings I may be getting from alcohol, and I can't even drink my existing stash to comfort myself. It feels sinful to eat pasta without wine, to watch sports without a coldy, or to be out with friends and not imbibe. Plus, I'm having to push off or turn down invites until next month, I'm not seeing friends. And I keep having inklings to go try some new place for happy hour or sit with a mimosa on a relaxing morning.

I believe I will survive though, and maybe I'll finally feel some 'benefits'. I think I can, I think I can...

Update: Mid-way through the month, I did use my second cheat day... and after that bottle of wine and the resulting pain the day after, I was all gung-ho to make it through to the end. I can't say that I didn't think about cheating more through the end, particularly when my cousin was up. But I stuck to the mocktails and the seltzer water...and again, no weight was lost, but I DID IT :)

A New Year, A New Leash on Life

If you have followed my blog at all, you know that I love resolutions. I love the chance to look at the next 12 months as a clean slate and think how I could improve myself in a new and exciting way. But I can never look forward without looking back.

I am always amazed at what can happen in a 12-month period, and more specifically the last January-December 2015. I knew in 2015 that I would meet someone, I had a feeling deep in me, that something important would happen. And as I went through a few dates early in the year, I thought, YES, this could be the year I would find my man. Those early dates dwindled to texts of "I'm not interested" and so I moved on, albeit with less tears than 2014.

In late March, a friend posted a pic of a dog who was looking for a home. Somehow I just clicked with the picture, and after a few conversations with said friend and a couple friends here in Seattle, I decided to meet the pup. I can't say it was love at first sight, but there was a definite connection, and my heart had already decided he was mine - despite all my head's warnings and misgivings.

Unrelated, but important in the journey of Natalie, in late April, I had one of the most fateful nights of my life. In said night, I got called stupid countless times, lost a friend, and pretty much lost another friend because of the aforementioned friend. Not helpful for this dog adopting shit. On the other hand, I did get to talk to Dave Attell, and he did call me the next day, but beyond that he did not seem interested. C'est la vie. I am old. I then went on my last "single" vacation, and came home to adopt my pup, Gordo - or as I lovingly call him, Jasper (Shithead, Scaredy-Cat, Shadow, Nervous-Nellie, Spaz, Little, Pumpkin, and on and on).

On May 9, 2015, I did find my man. He is 9lb, dark black, with brown eyes. He melts my heart and he was meant for me. He has been the easiest transition (expect for that first day where I sat crying in the hall listening to HIM cry) in my life, and I would not trade him for anything. He is my snuggle-bug, my companion, my "pocket-boyfriend". My life has changed, but is no less full. And I have been blessed by Jackie and Michael loving to watch him for me when I'm gone for work, it has made the transition that much better/easier to know Jasper is extra loved when I leave.

Work is a whole other piece of the pie, it was a rough year, managing five people is not all it's cracked up to be, it feels constantly like you are trying to please them and get them to do what needs to be done without getting frustrated. It feels impossible some times. What was I thinking? I've had a lot of crisis of career and location. Where my next move should be is up in the air, and I hate not feeling like I know where to go. I think I have been in the same spot for too long, but at the same time, I don't want to run from something that I could learn from.

And so, here we are at 2016. And this is a year of giving up. Giving up control. Giving up things and habits. Just seriously giving up to God all my hopes and plans, because up until this point I have been unsuccessful at making any specific thing happen in my life. All that has come to me, I believe, is through divine guidance.

My choices for my monthly resolutions should reflect the giving up (and by the way, I was not very good at last year's resolutions, but I DID finish Anna Karenina, and I would say that in itself is a huge accomplishment). Some resolutions are to ensure I have no real addictions, some are to save money, and some still are to lose weight, my bestie is getting married! And I am hoping to look svelte for when I see Seth MacFarlane sing with the Seattle Symphony in April. #marrymeSeth!

January - No alcohol (w/ 2 cheat days, because let's be realistic....)
February - No coffee
March - No tablet
April - No meat
May - No extra driving (only driving to the vanpool)
June - No TV
July - No gluten
August - No re-watching tv shows
September - No social media
October - No sleeping in/snoozing
November - No complaining
December - ???

We all forge in to the new year in our own way, some in crowded gyms, some with "resolutions to not make resolutions". With all the goals and stars in our eyes, may we all feel hopeful and excited of what can happen in 2016.

Photo courtesy of Chris Clark Photography

Pain: Absorb or Reject?

My fear of pain started young, and for anyone who knew me as a child/teenager, I was (and still am!) woefully bad at sports. I hate being in pain. I do not like being pushed harder. I do not want to be told that "anyone can stand on their head in a corner and spit nickles for a certain period of time". I would rather quit and move on.

From early on, I gave up at pain. After getting hit in the face with a basketball in 2nd grade (hey, it hurts a lot with glasses) at a two-week camp, I never tried again. In high school, I "played" volleyball and the coach wanted me to dig for the ball. And I thought "seriously, you want me to dive, face first into the carpeted concrete and hit a ball that will turn my arms bright red? No, thank you, I'll sit on the bench please." My dad never understood why I didn't go out and practice to get better (uhh... it hurts!). Even cross country, I only lasted a year, and my goal was only to not be last. So yeah, generally when things are painful I stop (and if you're wondering why hand-eye uncoordinated Natalie could be on a high school volleyball team? It was only because the high school only had 30 people in it, and I did it because we got to travel with the boys basketball team...).

When I recently decided to finally write more and had (what I thought) was a good idea for a book, I went for it. Luckily the first person I told, was supportive and encouraging. So spurred by that, off I went, it felt natural. Sweet! Maybe I'll be able to do something creative, be at least part of the person I wanted to be when I was growing up (a writer and an artist - hey, I'm left handed, it makes sense!).

But I made a fatal mistake, I did not follow the instructions of one blog that said to Keep it to yourself.

"One of the biggest mistakes beginning writers make is showing their early efforts to anyone who will look. I know, it’s tempting. You’re writing a novel. You want feedback! You want support! You want someone to tell you it’s awesome"

Whelp, I didn't take that seriously, and shared again... it only took 1 more person before I hit the negative comments that made me feel as if what I was doing was unoriginal and not worth pursuing. Embarrassed I thought, what's the point? I barely started and already hearing it's a dumb idea, I should just quit. It's just going to get worse, and as I know myself, I go out of my way to avoid pain and conflict. Negative feedback in any form takes years for me to move past, some of it I still hold on to until this day (yes, I still remember indirectly finding out a woman I idolized thought I was annoying, talk about knife in the tender psyche of a pre-teen!). What was I even thinking attempting such a project?

But there was that small small voice in the back of my head that said - keep on and keep it to yourself.

It got me to thinking about how being creative is such a vulnerable thing. I mean, you want what comes out of you to be appreciated and validated. You want to hear "that's a great idea" or "wow I really like what you did", or at least "good luck". Whatever you've created was or is something important to you/how you felt/a pivot point in your life. There are a few options when faced with this, don't share your art, quit, or I guess for those with larger balls than I, push through and create anyway. I realized how hard it is to create art and maintain your self-esteem to keep going. No wonder so many artists descend into madness or alcohol.

So if all of this is just about the process, then maybe I'll learn how to be better at not listening to negative feedback on something I am pursuing. Or at least nurture the creative side to find another idea that seems better.

Anyway, I think I'm going to keep writing, but planning on keeping the whole thing to myself. So if you ask me what I'm up to, I'll say I'm writing. And for all you know, it may as well be tweets I'm writing to the Twitterverse. I'm going to attempt to push past my instinct to quit. And if I get 5,000 more words down the road, and I feel like it's not working, I'm going to re-read the "How to Write a Novel" post, put on some Sigur Ros, and attempt to just keep writing.

Getting Lost in Myself

Whenever I want to do something more, I seem to end up doing it less. I want to wake up a half hour earlier, and instead sleep an hour longer. I want to workout more, and I haven't been to the gym in months. I want to write more, and I have no words to write. What is it about human nature that when we consciously want to do something, the lazy side of us kicks in and blocks us with tv, tiredness, stupid tablet games, anything but what the deep inner self wants.

I know I have been negligent in managing my blog, I mean, I haven't even so much as given it more than a passing thought. Maybe I should write about Budapest, about my summer, or maybe I'd have something to say about the fact that I adopted a dog (and my whole life revolving around him). But no, few words or inspirations have crossed my path. I have been reading a bunch, and they have largely been in the self-improvement arena (Total Money Makeover, 4-Hour Workweek).

So when what I'm calling my new church started a series on "Is this SERIOUSLY my life", it struck a cord deep inside. I started thinking about my personal life and feelings of dissatisfaction, confusion on where to go next, unhappiness in my current work, and just general feelings of unrest. Every fiber in my being screams at me to run away, to go live in a little cottage in a small village and be that odd American girl with her dog who lives at the end of the lane (complete with a meet cute with Jude Law). I think of movies like Under the Tuscan Sun, The Holiday, and Elizabethtown (though the last is less about international, but still in the vein of running away). What is it that appeals to me so strongly? It's that abandoning who we think we are, stripping away of all the preconceived notions and ideas of self, and forging a new path, one that is truer to our being.

That is where this morning's sermon (if you want to call it that) fit in. Instead of a monologue, it was a dialog between two men. They talked about finding that brokenness and working through it to come to the true self. Going through the death to experience the rebirth, and acknowledging that the body is a whole, and when the subconscious is in pain and conflicted it manifests itself in physical ways (pains in the stomach, aches in the back and neck). While the "good Christian child" inside me screams how new age this sounds, in my heart of hearts, it rings painfully true. How often do I just want to get around the pain and find what I am supposed to be or where I am supposed to go. The answer to these questions really is inside of us, and asking God to tell us what to do, is kind of the easy way out, it's saying I don't want to deal with the crap, I want the easy answer. When if we dug through and dealt with all the hurt inside, we would easily find that the answer is inside of us. It would be a gut reaction deep in our souls.

Anyway, that's a lot of deep for a sunny October Sunday. But if you're interested in the dialog, you can find it here 10/4/15 Is this seriously my life? - and I would say don't skip the songs if you have the time, they all connect into the theme of what the message is trying to teach. Not to mention the last one, which is a Damien Rice song. Seriously, a church that can see worship in the secular is my kind of church.

You Shouldn't Do That

Let me tell you, dating is tiring.  After the 10th first date, it tends to lose it's magic (10 is not statistically accurate, but sharing about yourself and forcing yourself to be interested in someone else gets old fast).  Some people like to tell me I'm too picky, but I'm sure if they perused through my options on OKCupid, they would tell me I would be settling with any of them.  Damned if you do and damned if you don't.

When this week is over, I'll have had some 4 first dates (I think for the month, it'll end up being somewhere around 10?).  You can't say I'm not trying.  And when you add to that "it's better to give someone a chance and not decide too quickly", second dates pile on top and you find you have no time for the gym, friends, or cleaning your apartment.  So yes, I am tired.  Tired of feeling like this takes so much work, tired of the advice, tired of feeling alone, tired of going out there and doing things so I am not accused of "not living my life waiting to meet someone".

Let me tell you, after the millionth time you've sat alone at a cafe, restaurant, bar, concert, park, museum, etc, you do get tired of your own company and feel rather lonely.  And I don't think I could really ever be accused of not trying living my life on my own (I mean most people assume I would be miserable having a relationship because then I couldn't do all the things I do.  Umm, I am choosing to live my life this way, because I don't want to sit around waiting, not because this was the end goal!).

I feel like I'm a parent trying to keep their kid occupied during summer break.  And you say "why don't you just relax at home more" - oh great, yeah, I'm sure Mr. Anybody is hiding out under my bed and I never noticed him before (CREEPER!)!  And yes, I know it's good to try dating and then to pull back, but you have to give it some time to start up before you give up and pull back to not dating (does that make any sense?).

And of course, when you confess this to friends, they tell you "You shouldn't feel that way", "You shouldn't do so much", "You shouldn't try so hard", "You should do more of what you want", "You should you should you should".  It makes me want to scream!  Can we all decide that use of the word should is completely inappropriate?  Who are we to tell someone what they should or should not feel/do/think/act? "There is only feel and do, there is no should." (D.R.)  Telling someone what they should do to get a date or be happy is rude.  It implies they haven't thought of or aren't logical enough to "understand the real situation".  It devalues their feelings and thoughts.  It is just rude.  If I tell you, "I feel rejected because so and so never called", how is telling me "I shouldn't feel that way" helpful?  It's okay to let your friends feel a certain way, and just acknowledging that yes, not hearing from someone sucks.  End of story.

We feel and think and act how we feel, and yes, sometimes I am so frustrated by this whole process I am illogical.  But trust me, I am completely aware of the logic side of the puzzle (umm, have you met me, I'm a pretty damn logical person), but logic doesn't always matter when it comes to feelings.  And my feelings lately are that this whole thing sucks.  So like my rant a few months ago about not assuming things about people, can we also decide that to acknowledge the way someone feels is a much nicer and caring response then trying to "fix" or "solve" them?

(This soapbox moment is another installment of "You Know What Really Grinds My Gears")

Beware of Mexico...or don't

I have so many stories I want to tell, stories I want to remember, but the longer I wait and the older I get, the harder it gets to write them. I never did finish writing about all my European travels. I should have written them after each weekend, but alas, I didn’t.

Now, I just returned from Mexico City. Mexico - a place I have never really liked much (tbh). The Hispanic people living in Oregon always turned me off. The switch to Spanish in front of you and the way the men whistled or catcalled in such a derogatory fashion made me feel dirty. But really, it comes down to a general lack of understanding about their culture (on my part), which is vastly different (or at least perceived as different) from my own. Add to that the perception that certain foods and water were not to be consumed, the news of drug cartels, the issues with illegal immigration, and the stories of kidnappings …it never felt like a place I wanted to be.

Up until last year, the only experience I had was near the border doing ‘missionary’ work (building outhouses or bathrooms, hosting Bible schools). While that was a unique experience, I was young and extra naïve at the time. I think I was more interested in who I got to sit next to in the van on the rides there and back. Last fall, I had the opportunity (??) to go for work. Having spent so much time in Europe, I figured it would be good to meet colleagues in another place and expand my knowledge.

My experience in Monterrey was lackluster and awkward. It re-instilled in me the distaste for the machismo attitudes towards women. And the inability to get straight truth or answers out of people made me question how they could conduct business, with all that postulating and side-picking. Then there was the dog ridden neighborhood (we were told certain trucks would come through and remove the dogs…you can imagine how they were going about disposing of these poor animals), the smell of chemicals in the back of my throat, and the insane driving habits. I was ready to shake the Mexican dust off my feet and never return.

Yet work moves on, and there came the need to go back. Due to the creepy, inappropriate machismo-ism, I was not allowed (nor would I), go back to Monterrey. Instead, I was to accompany my colleagues to one of the largest cities in the world (per the metropolitan area there are some 21M people – almost 9M living in the city proper). Just about everyone and their mother balked at this idea – they all threw their concerns and questioned whether I should go. They asked whom I was going with, where I was staying, if we had bodyguards, and generally gave me no sense of comfort going to a country that already intimidated me.

After a couple searches on TripAdvisor, to reassure me that it was no more unsafe than any other major city.  I mean, I have been to NY, LA, Paris, London, Lima, Moscow – and never felt unsafe in any of those locales. So, I decided to fly in a day early and take a tour of some sites – namely the pyramids close to the city. Now, I truly hate tourists, both from living in a city that gets a decent amount of them to running into them while traveling and trying to stay as far away from them as possible. You know those large groups that allow you to see sites, but never experience or know a culture?  The ones that stand out and push past locals, stopping at asinine spots to take photos without care for who or what is around them. Then there is the loud entitled way they act!  And this is NO means limited to Americans, every time there is a large group of non-native people visiting a place, they seem to get lost in their own cultural bubble that does not allow them to merge with and see the place they are in.

 But I was scared of being alone in Mexico, so I did the unthinkable and signed up for a full 13-hour tour. I found a tour through UrbanAdventures via some comments on TripAdvisor, and boy am I glad I did! The morning half of the tour was myself, a Danish man, and the tour guide Eva. We walked, took a random taxi, and boarded the metro to visit three different Mexican markets. We stopped and got fresh tamales (like the locals), saw murals painted by students of Diego Rivera, and picked our way around dripping stomach linings. I also bravely tried Huitlacoche (don’t look it up, or do, it’s just fungus corn…tastes better than it looks), fermented pineapple juice, fresh tamarind, and cactus (fried it is not so slimy). We also saw the animals to be used for witchcraft, all sorts of dried spices, herbs, and flowers, and statues of Our Lady of Guadalupe (of course, mixed in with party gear and Disney's "Frozen" paraphernalia).

My first part of the tour ended, and the second part to go to Teotihuacan started. I was ‘warned’ of this next tour guide that he was eccentric and engaging (I’d also read about him online). The Dane left, and I was joined by 3 ladies from Texas/California. Luis definitely lived up to the hype! He, like Eva, was a local and familiar with the city. He was engaging, if a little spastic, but I do agree that he made the tour. We again took the metro out to a bus station that would then drop us off near the pyramids.  No touristy styled buses for us!

It was almost an hour and a half out there, but was worth the trek. Luis was informative, but not pushy about the information. Apparently, they know very little about the Teotihuacan civilization, as they have not found any writings. The Mayans found the pyramids later on, but they did not build them. They know the people there would powerful (as the settlement was set up near an obsidian mine, so they had sharp tools and weapons). And the “Sun” and “Moon” pyramids, as they are now known, were not their original names. The whole areas is built to be 5 degrees off of, and in line with, the North Star.  They also valued squares (as you can see from the pictures, everything is square).

After walking stairs, the 5 of us hoped in a small taxi to head to one of the three farms we were to visit – but first we stopped for pulque – an agave cactus fermented drink that was really quite tasty! We then visited an obsidian farm, a cactus farm, and finally ate at a local family’s house.

It was a long, but very fun day. And I’m really glad I did it. It helped put me at ease the rest of the week in the city, and provided new friends – as later in the week, I met up with Luis to experience the monthly ‘cultural’ night – where they play music in local museums.

I have also learned not to trust people who judge a place before they have been there; I was unduly worried as a result. I should trust my instincts and past knowledge, which is when you get down to it, all of us are the same. People are generally good, want to be liked, and are friendly to share their town/culture with someone new. I’m blessed to have been able to meet many different people from many different places. That knowledge is powerful and useful, I've found that judging others is never worthwhile or productive.

Work was…interesting, but not bad, and the office was in a nice area (for once). I don’t speak Spanish (sorry to my high school Spanish teachers!), but never felt like I couldn’t get by (my coworkers did some, and pointing and smiling always seems to work). The food was good (and cheap), and the days were warm and sunny (between 70-80). The difference between this trip and that couldn’t be more profound. While the traffic and smog sucked, the sudden wafts of sewer were ever present and unpredictable, there were a couple days of protests in the streets, and I ended up with a sour stomach by Saturday, I felt able to walk at night with my coworkers, or jump in taxis (or ubers!) when needed. I am really looking forward to another opportunity to go back, and hope that the experience is just as positive. Viva la Mexico!?!

Restauranting - Milano

A week or so in Milano

I attempted to combine this with my main Milan post (Oh where is My Hairbrush?), but realized the food was getting excessive...or maybe I ate excessively...so I figured I would separate out the important, from the anecdotal. :)

The hardest thing to do when traveling in Europe is to pick places to eat, as Yelp users are infrequent in Europe and TripAdvisor, while more used, tends to come from tourists...and I don't really want a tourist's opinion on what is best in the city.  Although, I think I did pretty well though, and only had what I would consider a 'miss' once.

My favorite place is a bar my coworker and I popped into during the Italian/British football match...the owner was nice to get us some wine and meats while the game was on (I'm sure he cursing us tourists) - it was called Ronchi 78.  The meat and cheese plate was simple and tasty, the wine perfect (Verdicchio), and while the chicken was a little overdone, the veggies and sauces in the 'stew' was great

Meat Grill - where I had a very frothy (and tasty) Spaghetti Carbonara.  I blame my coworker for wanting to eat at a place called "Meat Grill", but walking around the Duomo, non-touristy restaurants are harder to find.

Osteria Al Coniglio Bianco - in the lovely Navigli canal district - which was my area favorite, despite the man-eating mosquitos (and subsequent swollen feet...).  I had a great melon/prosciutto appetizer, but a dry pounded/breaded veal - note to self, never pick a restaurant with English versions of the menu publicly displayed and picking a rando-restaurant in a touristy area is always risky.

Mag Cafe - Classic cocktail bar in Navigli, the night was alive with people and the football matches were projected on big blow up screens, so the atmosphere combined to make this a fun spot to stop.

Vun - A lovely Michelin starred dining experience with a Seattle friend - everything was amazing, and the sommelier picked wines like it was her job :), and I always love the 'free' chef tastes they give at these types of restaurants (I even got a 2nd taste of the chocolate/ice cream one! The collage to the right shows the 'free' food).  Our meal consisted of (1) 'Caprese...Sweet Salted', (2) 'Dumplings, smoked eggplant, flying squid, pecorino, lovage', (3) 'Lamb, courgettes 'roasted and escabeche', pine nuts, aclla cress', and (4) 'Gianduja and raspberries' for dessert (pictured in order below):

Osteria Ippodromo - near work, but a classic 2 hr Italian lunch (sliced, raw sardines and salmon; a mixed bag of seafood; an entree of fish ravioli), complete with 'piggy' marocchino coffee and a Sardinia liquor - Bresca Dorada Mirto di Sardegna.

Rebelot - where I made friends with an Italian makeup artist and a couple architects, the girl invited me to hang out at a party the next week, friend requested herself from my phone, but sadly, she never accepted.  Either way, I enjoyed a 3-course chef's choice meal (of pounded eel w/ cherries, fish with melon, and fried sweetbreads), and some shared wine, meats, and cocktails to round out the evening (and then got semi-stranded when the metro stopped running at 12, but finally was able to hail a cab while waiting in the rain, although I did debate whether I could walk home or not...mostly cuz I couldn't get any drunk guys to help me, the only suggestions they were able to make were suggestive remarks).

Cova - in the Montenapoleone shopping district, where the men in the cafe wore tuxes, I ordered a Negroni, got a side of puff pastries and a marocchino espresso to boot.  Also, had a man ask for my number, give me his, and his fb name...and then creepy text - multiple times, of his love for me.  Don't worry, he stopped when I did not respond.

Convivium - While wandering just outside the Duomo square, I came across this little gem - and had pesto/potato/gnocchi/green bean pasta (a specialty in the Cinque Terre area), with some wine, a strawberry tart dessert, a cappuccino, and a complimentary digestif.  I also escaped the rain shower :).

Cinc - Which I only had cocktails at, but made friends with the bartender who thought that #JamieBoudreau was the shit :).  There my coworker and I had some Milano/Torino aperitivis - containing: il malanese Bitter Campari ed il torinese Punt e Mes si incontrano al Cinc.  I finished my coworkers drink... hmm either he is wimpy or I'm an alchy... or both.  While we only had cocktails here and some ok pasta a block away, we were given a great suggestion for dinner the next night!

 Il Liberty - A quiet place for a Monday night, but in a new-to-us neighborhood, where you kind of had to know what you were looking for and had to ring a bell to be allowed entrance.  The food was more modern-Italian style, though don't hold me to that as a type of food :).  The menu has changed a bit since we were there, so we'll go based on my memory.  We had tartar, what appears to be a take on tomatoes and mozarella, apparently an un-picture worthy entree?, but some tasty smoked chocolate cigar dessert!

A quick trip to Lake Como

Just a couple place to visit when in Como or neighboring Bellagio.  Some of the places I visited were Antica Darsena (no photos, the wait staff were lovely, and the hotel looked high class, the food was good but apparently not memorable enough for photos), Fresco Cocktail Shop (the old fashioned at a classic cocktail a bit of a walk from the waterfront), Osteria L'Angolo Del Silenzio (the saucy dish, 2 doors down from the cocktail shop, the food was good, but maybe a little too old school style for my liking), and Aperitivo et Al (eggplant lasagna and maracchino, a sweet little wine store that I found after wandering and being quite hungry in Bellagio - I jumped on the ferry north - without food and the ferry happened to be the slow one that took 2 1/2 hours).  And all I have to say, is that I'm grateful for all the walking you have to do while in Europe, otherwise, I would be a 'piggy Natalie'.