Like a Dandelion Puff

I spent a good long time today standing on the pier against the water on the edge of Havre de Grace, looking at the Susquehanna River. I was completely alone, and it was cold, and windy. I had taken my pictures, and my camera's batteries had died. I had music in my ears, Imogen Heap, but nonetheless my brain had reached a kind of silence even as I felt the pulse of her rhythms. I think we all have moments like this, when we are struck with, to put it simply, the moment we are in, in that moment when we are in it. When there is nothing else we can do but stop and catch it, delicate, fragile, held protectively in cupped hands; don't breathe on it or it might fly apart. The oil on your hands can weigh down a butterfly's wings enough to stop it from flying forever, enough to kill it. This is the sort of moment I am talking about - I know you know what I mean.

For me, this was a moment when I was thinking of many things without really thinking about them.

I was thinking about how beautiful Maryland is, how gently she nurtured me back to emotional health. How I was so grateful to her.

I was thinking about Elizabeth Gilbert, something I had just read that she wrote. She discussed, in Eat Pray Love (a book about which I cannot say enough good things, or be more emphatic in my endorsements of it), her ideas about love, and relationships. She said that, in our culture, to fall in love is enough to justify nearly anything. We will accept anything, do anything - we are in love. And so we marry, merely for love. Our culture has embraced this, loves the romance of it; a quick glance towards Hollywood gives us all the proof necessary to assure us of this. We just LOVE the idea of love. But, Gilbert goes on to say, such is not the case in most of the rest of the world. Even in countries where marriages are not completely pre-arranged, the role of the father in the decision of marriage is of paramount importance, in that each member of a young couple must prove themselves worthy of the other to their respective parents. The father would ask questions, piercing, difficult, unabashed questions, and if the answers were not satisfactory, no, you cannot have my daughter.

It falls to the parent, in these cultures, to ask the questions, and to not rest until satisfactory answers are given. Gilbert says, somewhat wryly, that she has already had to figure out how to "be her own husband" as she waded through her post divorce years, but now, in a sense, she had to discover how to "be her own father" as she ventured back into the romantic world. We rely on love, and when we fall in love, we feel like everything will therefore be fine. I love him, and that's all that matters, right? But the work cannot be ignored. The parent is no longer expected, indeed, no longer required, to become a part of his children's romantic affairs. So who is there to protect a person when her emotions run giddily down the hill, throwing flowers in the air and kicking off both shoes? Who will step in and say, "I know you're excited, but let's sit down and be practical for a moment." The answer, of course, is that I must be both the girl careening wildly down the hill and the girl at the bottom waiting to scoop her up, fix her hair, and get her home for supper on time. I need to become that, myself, and for myself. I must be my own protector, my own guardian, my own lover and father. I must make my own demands on myself, for myself, to Life.

This is a difficult idea to come to terms with, the idea that you are enough, that you are good enough to warrant proper treatment. Strange that this is difficult. But it is a challenge to look Life in the eye, squarely, and say with confidence, "Are you going to take care of me, and let me take care of you? Are you going to love me for me, not for what you think I am or should be?" It is difficult to think that you can demand things from Life, that you can put your foot down firmly and not raise it again until you are content in the result you have reaped from your efforts.

This confidence is coming to me, but it is slow. It takes thought, careful thought, and careful tending of one's self. It takes silence, it takes emotion, it takes being as hyper aware as possible without being overanalytical - it is daunting, flat out. But it is also tangible; I feel it, swaying delicately on the tips of my fingers, a butterfly gingerly perched with an almost weightless grip.

I was thinking, too, in that strange moment, about my future, or rather, I was thinking about not thinking about it. I have been wrestling, for always, with the fact that I do not know what it is I want to do with my life, with my self. I wrote this recently to a dear friend in an email.

I love change, I really do. In a way, I love it so much I think it is almost something of a character flaw of mine - I get really antsy if things stay the same for too long. It's caused me grief...I'm 24, which, yes, is really young, but have tried and discarded so many career choices already. I am continually searching, losing and finding and losing, and I just feel, sometimes, like I'm circling. The reality, though, is that I am not circling, I'm always moving forward...I think it's just that it feels like I'm not taking very much with me. Perhaps this is a good thing - I am light. I was recently saying to Sean that, in a way, I envy those people who know what they want to do with themselves, who have some sort of "bug", an actual need to do something, be something. And he, in firm possession of his own "bug" as an actor, sighed in a resigned sort of way and said, "well, that's funny. I sort of envy you that you don't. I know so many people who have this so called "bug", and the problem that can come of this bug is that, if you're not careful, it becomes your whole identity. And when you rely on something like that to define you, you end up in a pretty precarious position. You, though, are not defined by anything. Your identity is fluid, Chel, you don't have to worry about being anything in particular from moment to moment. And, for me, I think that that is pretty great." Sean and I spend most of our time joking and laughing together, but he's also pretty awesome at bringing my perspective right back where it needs to be, when it needs to be brought back.

I had a great deal going on in my head this afternoon, to be expected as I embark on what is quite literally going to be a 100% entirely new life. But I knew the moment the moment ended. Caught in the wind, floating away from my hands like a dandelion puff, I felt it go. The almost crystalline luminosity of the moment wobbled and shimmered back to normalcy. I took a breath, heard Imogen Heap again, saw the water, noticed the bird perched on the beam next to me. Hmm, how long have you been there? I laughed, the bird looked at me coolly, unperturbed by this ungainly creature beside him.

What do you know, you who has never been above the clouds?

I concede him this with a nod, you have a good point there, and turn on my heels and head back.

I reach the door just as the album ends, just as my mother arrives home, just as, I had forgotten, we were due to go out to dinner. I was exactly on time.

When you listen, listen closely, and be true, life has a sort of ease to it.

Attraversiamo, Havre de Grace...

Love Letter

Monday, February 15th, 2010


Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

Hey guys, this is Michele. I know this is a little bit unusual for me, writing instead of calling, but I wanted to catch you up on what I'm doing in my life, and let you in on some of the decisions I've made recently.

You know I've been going through a time of upheaval in my life, and much has changed for me. These past months, here in Maryland, have been a joy and a relief, a time of peace, and a time of love, and a time that has really allowed me to grow and heal and become, for lack of a better word, better. I am blessed, as you well know, with an absolutely incredible family, who gives me an equally incredible support system, and thank goodness for it - I don't know if I would have recovered nearly as quickly or as well from everything I went through if it hadn't been for them, for you two. Everyone was right there for me, each and every one of you, never hesitating, and really, I can't thank you enough. You made this difficult, transitional period in my life a time of great joy when, by all accounts, it could have been a time of real trial; it's been more of a comfort than I can say to know you are all smiling in my corner, cheering me on.

With that said, I've been, of course, trying to figure out my next steps. This has been a challenge in and of itself. Maryland is beautiful, and there are many opportunities here, but I have been struggling with the idea of staying here indefinitely. I can't help but feel like, here, it is a little bit too quiet for someone of my age and temperament - and someone with the sort of dreams and ambitions that I have. I'm 24, so young, and I feel like my time to be adventerous is now, if I'm going to do it. I am in a unique position, in that I have very few responsibilities. I do not have a relationship, a job, a lease, even a pet - nothing that would hold me down in any way. I am free to choose the direction I'm going to go. That's an exciting feeling.

So, here's the big reveal, the reason for this letter. I've decided that I'm going to move to New York City, and pursue a life there. Moving to this city has been something I've always wanted to do, since I was a little girl, and I can't see there being a better time to do it. I will most likely, for the moment, go back to my job at Starbucks, just to have gainful employment and health insurance. I already have a place; I've rented a room with two REALLY nice people named Michael and Rebecca, who are my age and very sweet. Good people, in a very safe area and a big lovely apartment.

The exciting news, though, is I'm pursuing a new career. Yes, I know, another one. But, while I know that the government job was what everyone wanted for me so that I would be stable and secure, although it was a hard decision, I had to come to terms with the fact that it wasn't what I wanted for myself, not at all. So, I've applied for a program called the New York City Teaching Felllowship, and it is a really great program. If I get in, they send you through a intense summer teaching certification program, and by the end of the summer you are a certified New York City teacher. They help place you into a school, for me most likely as a special needs teacher, which I am qualified for, I hope, because of my knowledge of American Sign Language. My application was accepted, and I was invited to an interview, which I completed this past weekend. It went very well, and I have a very good feeling about getting into this program. Fingers crossed. I would be teaching, a career I think I would thrive in, and further, in a city I love.

So, I know this is a lot to process. I wrote it all out to make sure it was clear. Feel free to call me as soon as you read this, and we'll talk about everything. I hope that you will continue to be as wonderful as you have been, and keep loving and supporting me on this new adventure of mine. I know that this is a decision you might not understand or be enthused about, but I don't want you to worry about me, or think that this is an impuslive, irresponsible move. I need to grow - I'm doing this for me. There are a great many good things that would come from this. For one, it would be much easier to get back to Jersey to see you guys. For another, Sean lives only about ten minutes from my new place, and it would be the first time we will be living in the same city in years. I have LOTS of friends that live in and around New York, as well - there are a lot of people who are very excited that I am coming. I'm not deluding myself, mind. It's going to be a difficult time. I think, though, that it will be extremely rewarding for me. I know that this is a risk, but I feel like this is the right moment in my life to just jump in and do it. Besides, it is easy to to be brave with so much love and support.

I love you two so very much, more than I can ever tell you, and I really can't begin to tell you how appreciative and incredibly grateful I am to have you in my life, to have your love in my life. Knowing you are there for me, no matter what, has been one of the greatest gifts I could ever ask for, and has made it possible for me to keep going, for me to smile at the future, and not worry about what is going to happen. I can't say enough good things about you two, about Mom, my brother, Aunt Ginny and Uncle Richard, and my father, too. I am so thankful for you all. Everyone in my life has been so amazingly supportive, and loving, and I am obviously very, VERY blessed by whatever power there is out there.

Thank you for listening.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Love always,
Michele





Critical Addendum: I copied this letter directly from the one that I hand wrote to my wonderful grandparents, and as a result of this, I left out someone very very important to me. My step mother, Jacki, has been absolutely essential to this move of mine. Emotionally, financially, in every way she has not hesitated and has been an unwavering supporter of everything I do. Her and my father alone would be support and love enough to buoy anyone through hard times; I have them as well as others, and cannot be thankful enough for them. Mea culpa, Jacki, it was merely an oversight, albeit a grievous one. Forgive me, and trust that you are remembered in and dear to my heart.

Working Title: Lice is as Funny as Necrotizing Faciitis - My Road to the Interview

[Disclaimer: Ok, I just took two advil PMs before writing this, so bear with me if I start to slide a little askew in this entry. Note for those concerned: sleeping on your side with one shoulder against your nose is a really stupid yet quite effective way to cause incredible neck and upper back pain the following day. So noted.]

So! My interview for the New York City Teaching Fellowship is less than a week away. I am in a strange state of mind about it; I am at once quite nervous and totally unconcerned. By all accounts I should be nervous - the interview process is slotted to take approximately 5 hours, and will include, in this order:

- A math exam (all fun, no calculators!)
- A 5 minute teaching demonstration from each candidate, wherein one must introduce, elaborate on, wrap up, and check for understanding on a single topic in...5 minutes.
- Lunch
- A prompted, observed discussion wherein all the candidates will be given a topic to discuss amongst themselves for an hour, all while being carefully watched by the interviewers.
- A written response to the conversation, to be completed in 5 minutes.
- A 30-45 minute long one on one interview.

So yeah! This is a pretty intense process. I suppose it has to be, because this is an incredible program, and they only accept 9% of their applicants. It's pretty cool I even got an interview.

I'm getting the job, though. Oh you bet I am.

But, obviously the part of this interview process that should be standing out for you is the 5 minute teaching sample bit. Yeah, you caught that? The website's blurb says things like, "You might want to cover something simple...like, similes! Or, how to convert an improper fraction!" Naturally, my ever supportive friends and family have been coming up with carefully thought-out and pertinent ideas for what I should do with my allotted time.

Do a quick synopsis of War and Peace followed by a brief analysis of its socioeconomic undertones, and then wrap up with a Q&A on the modern implications of the work given today's political climate!

Hmm.

Or.

I got it. You should perform a highlights only special edition of The Ring Cycle.

(And for clarification's sake, here, The Ring Cycle is a 4 opera series by Richard Wagner which, when performed in sequence, takes about 15 hours.)

...or.

A mind game, THAT would be awesome! Show them how the mind is a real pain in the ass! Because it is, man, it so is! We've all got these crazy brains, you know? Tell them that, for the whole five minutes, they are not allowed to think about penguins. No, seriously! Their minds will be so totally BLOWN! All they'll be able to think about is penguins!

So those were helpful.

The next hurdle is, of course, the interview outfit. This is one of those underappreciated stresses of the ordeal, I feel. And, having been gainfully employed by Starbucks for the past year plus of my life, I have exactly no clothing with which to impress, really, anyone, let alone an employer. So with grim, determined faces, Mom and I set off to the mall in search of an outfit that would make me look professional AND interesting AND responsible AND unique. Which is how we, logically, found ourselves in the Macy's women's section...petite. thankyouverymuch.

Now, I require a digression here. Why is it that as soon as a woman is labeled "petite" (which, if I do as well on this interview as I do at qualifying for the status of petite [5'3", 135lbs] I will be a shoo in...) it is assumed that her style consists of loose, ill-defined florals, pastel suits with gestapo shoulder pads and rectangular outlines, and 80's velour tracksuit sets? The poor little section slumps in the corner of the store like the cousin at the party who always smells a little funny and no one wants to talk to, mocked openly by the normal sized clothing right across the walkway which is filled to the breaking point with expertly cut power suits for women in charge. Small women can be powerful too! (She squeaks, swinging her feet from her chair, and then bursting into hormonal tears. Again.) Sigh.

Ok, anyway. From this, we managed to successfully find me a surprisingly nice chocolate brown suit jacket and skirt, with a stylish deep turquoise blouse to go with it. Quite acceptable.

But now the final hurdle: shoes. Originally I had been planning on wearing a pants suit, so shoes were important but, you know, not really going to be so obviously seen. Now, with the skirt, suddenly we're playing a different ballgame - and I have NO fancypants shoes. None at all. There is a valid reason for this, though...some years ago, I had extensive surgery on my feet, and as a result, I can't really bend my big toe. So: heels hurt. Another hurdle is that I've been a vegetarian for years, and I do everything in my power to avoid wearing leather. By these powers combined...shopping for girly shoes is a challange, and I have 8 pairs of crocs. (yeah, I made that a Captain Planet reference, what are you going to do about it?)

So we enter the shoe section with trepidation. But, to my delight, we find several really nice options, and when I try them on, they fit! I walked out the door with two new pairs of heels that are in the category, dare I say it, of the "power heel", sleek and sexy, yet completely tasteful and interesting. It was only when I texted Sean with my news (my life is pretty lame these days, btw...) did I get the shock of "OOoOOh...and they're not leather?" Whoops! I hadn't even looked. My feelings were somewhat conflicted on this. On the one hand, what's happened to my ironclad morals concerning my vegetarianism? I didn't even look?! On the other, I've aaaactually been sort of bad recently, but feeling sort of equally ok about it. I'm re-exploring everything in my life , so why not include fish? Still, I felt a bit guilty. But! I'd bought them - they were mine now. So I brought them home and showed them off and felt good about them. I continued not to look, happily ignorant.

It was only later in the privacy of my room did I have the heart to look for what I knew would be there to stare judgmentally at me when I searched. So I picked up the shoe. And I braced myself, had a quick pep talk, and looked in at the label.

What happened next is the stuff movies are made of.

I looked, grimacing, at the label of first pair of shoes...only to discover they were 100% man made! Surely, I thought, 1 out of 2 is pretty good. It couldn't be that the other ones...YES! Both pairs of my amazing new shoes didn't need to kill ANYTHING to come into existence!

I'm convinced all of my good karma was used up in one fell swoop in this moment.

Sean decided that this is probably not the case, but to be on the safe side, I should really rescue a boatload of infants from a burning orphanage sometime before my interview on Saturday to even things out. Just as a precaution.

His other suggestion was that I could always contract a good case of lice, which would do the trick quite nicely. But, he forgot (or perhaps didn't), that I had already had that pleasure in the last few years of life, and this back when my hair reached my elbows, and let me tell you something, world, having lice is about as funny as cancer. Or necrotizing faciitis. No, go google it, darn you, I've done all your work tonight. But seriously, I'd give the shoes back. My skin has been crawling all night since this conversation just from the memories. Incidentally, as long as we're on the subject, when you're working for a summer camp, don't let the girls play with your hair. I'm looking at you too, boys. It's just not worth it, I'm telling you.

On that note, I'd like to quickly remind everyone about the aforementioned disclaimer: Advil PM a clever blog doth not make. Goodnight.

Blue makes a friend.

Ok, so a few weeks ago I discovered a bug crawling on my wall, like you do. No big deal, I've always been a bit of a nature goon, so I calmly climbed on a chair and coaxed the little guy onto my hand and brought him out to the sub-zero temperatures of the great outdoors, depositing him gently on the porch banister.

But, much to my surprise, a day or two later I saw the exact same sort of bug apparently completely content in my house plant on my desk. Well, I'm a good roommate, and I don't mind sharing my space, so I let him stay. We've become quite friendly as the time passed...he likes facebook, and will often sit on my arm as I type or get quite close up with my friend's status updates...
Incidentally, Ray Dademo's status now has, at last count, 46 comments. Just putting that out there - the bug isn't the only one interested.

I was contemplating what to do with him when I move. The insect, not Ray Dademo. I'm going to be taking this plant with me, most likely...do I attempt to take him with me? I don't think that would succeed, and besides, my new roommates might not be too excited if I show up with my "apartment bug". Mm.

Purely by coincidence, I kid you not, I had Blue the Elephant sitting out on my desk near my camera just now as I am writing this, and wouldn't you know that the bug was up for a photo shoot. I almost sprained something fumbling for my camera, but luck is preparation meets opportunity, right?



Hugs and kisses,
Me, Blue, and a bug

I feel safe here...

New York City...acting through dear Brian...welcomed me to New York City with love and flowers.

Overture

We can officially start a countdown. I will be moving to New York on February 21st.

I just spent the last 5 days in what I will soon be able to claim as my city, with my eternal friend and life travel companion Sean. We viewed this visit less as a visit and more as a preview to my attack of the proverbial Big Apple. We watched Julie and Julia. We sang, we pranced. We wore hats. But most of all, we FROZE. Oh my good gracious, it was so cold, the sort of cold that you're legitimately afraid that you're going to flat out die, or at the very least, lose some toes. Every time I stepped from the relative warmth of an interior, the wind and the bitter cold smacked me like a spurned lover. People up and down the streets were making undulating, unintelligible noises just in an attempt to ward off the impending frostbite to their vocal chords. Extreme.

Of the many things I did while I was there, I managed to find an apartment! The aforementioned yoga/dance people have agreed to take my sorry butt in for the next six months, and they are very very sweet. So far, Michael has been an absolute delight, and I'm excited to live with him; I have not met Rebecca yet, but by all accounts she's lovely too. The location and price are excellent, and it's nice to feel a bit more settled in that regard - it's always a comfort to know you have somewhere to go.

Perhaps most noteworthily from this weekend, I saw Angela Lansbury perform LIVE in Sondheim's delightful "A Little Night Music". That was incredible. I mean, I don't get starstruck at all, but if you have to choose someone to be in the same room with before you die, I can't think of anyone better. We breathed the same air for a little bit, and what a joy that was. She was amazing. Her comedic timing was perfect, her voice was impeccable as ever, and she looked beautiful. I jumped up and down like a little girl from my $27 student rush standing room only "seat" and found all my expectations met. ALSO, the girl who performed "The Miller's Son" was the hottest thing I've ever seen. She managed the singularly difficult achievement of singing her face off while she acted the bejesus out of the song. Her name is Leigh Anne Larkin, and you should keep your eyes peeled for her in the future - with a performance like she gave, she will definitely keep getting work. She was awesome, and not only did her number get the biggest applause in the show, but her curtain call was second only to Angela herself, despite her being a supporting. Absolutely incredible.

And just because we were feeling daring, Sean and I jumped right from one theater into another, going from this wonderful show downtown and catching student rush for the Off Broadway production of "Our Town".

Now, I must start a new paragraph for this, just to get your attention. This performance was possibly the greatest feat of acting I have had the pleasure of seeing. If you are ANYWHERE near the city, get your butt over to the Bower Street Theatre and see it immediately. And go quickly, because it's not going to be up for much longer. I would see it again if I lived there now. Directer David Cromer received stellar reviews from people whose opinions matter far more than mine, but as a mere audience member and theater goer, this show out and out rocked. It was intense, and stirring to the core, and so incredibly intimate. A beautiful performance - there was not ONE weak link in the entire cast.

I think I will end with this, because it is so important and wonderful, because it is late, and because this entry is getting rather long. More to come.