the other day i was finding my way back to manhattan with a friend of mine. this friend is blind, and was bearing the hour-and-a-half commute with me with a real conversation and without a complaint. we waited upstairs. the platform looked more crowded than a Springsteen concert in Jersey, and angrier than the recent mob in Egypt demanding Mubarak's resignation. thirty minutes and two trains later, we made it to the platform and waited in a swarm of humanity for the next train of human tetris. as my friend and i discussed the importance of genuity in those who surround you and the importance of sticking with other twenty-somethings who have some perspective, a livid forty something cried out wondering where the hell the train is (service changes) and was upset because he "had noone to complain to."
i know what it's like to have a vendetta for the MTA. it's obviously run by the Boston Red Sox new york hating bafoons) and/or complete idiots, like the people that think Charlie Sheen can rehab at home or something. but this man was not griping about the utterly abysmal service (not) provided by the MTA. he was upset there was nobody to complain to.
i lost my job on Wednesday. it sucks. a LOT. i don't want to be unemployed again and i don't want to have this much time on my hands and i don't want to wonder where my next paycheck is coming from and i don't want to be a sandwich artist somewhere. i know everything will be fine. i know i'll get another job. i know if i sink my teeth into the right opportunity, it will come biting back. i know that what's meant to be will find a way. i know that everything happens for a reason even if we don't immediately know what that is. i have faith. i have a talent. and i have a lot of work to do. that doesn't make the pill any easier to swallow or the wave any easier to ride. what i didn't know if that it's in a sense creating an opportunity--even if it's one i didn't want.
i had admired the company i got let go from from afar for a while. i read about them in PR Week (nerd alert) and loved that they broke the cycle of traditional PR and took risks. smart, educated risks. in fact i still do. the painful conclusion i came to thru conversation and a beer with my friend was that just because you're someone's fan doesn't mean that you fit in the line up. the stars didn't align like they were "supposed" to (according to me) for this opportunity. i loved my co-workers and most of my clients and my view of Manhattan from 27 floors up. i loved my Mac and my iPad and free lunch every Monday and knowing that direct deposits were a regular occurrence. but even the finest pair of Steve Madden's can't fit the left shoe on the right foot. suck it, Carrie Bradshaw, that was a shoe reference.
it was so sexy from the outside, but just wrong from the inside. this job was like meeting the sensible tall dark and handsome accountant who owns a yacht and says all the right things and looks great on paper, but your dazzling conversation about his cigar collection leaves you with the attention span of a goldfish. you want the job that drives you mad in the best way; that honey moon phase that has you so giddy you forgot to say that adorable thought you conjured up, so you send a text as soon as you get home because that extra genuine kick tells you that this one fits. suck it, AGAIN, Carrie Bradshaw, i just compared jobs to dudes.
the right opportunity (or dude) won't leave you tired or stressed or your skin broken out. each day (or hopefully most days) will present itself with the same magical freshness that your first day had. it will allow you to take care of yourself while maintaining your commitment to it. you'll sleep at night. you'll function in harmony with it. you'll do everything you need to and most of the things you want to. you won't eat the same on the go peanutbutter cookie from the mediocre lunch place around the corner so routinely.
like the dude who you have no chemistry with on paper, everything i thought i wanted was in this job, and it's not at all what i wanted. though it's a scary and unexpected change, it's also an opportunity to chose an job that makes me happy(ier). it's a chance to turn back to myself. it's a fresh start that i didn't want but desperately needed. like a bull before a rodeo, i am feisty and anxious to let loose, and ready to unleash regardless of who is on my back.
the man at Union Square who had nobody to complain to failed to see that complaining to an MTA employee (who doesn't care) wouldn't be a catalyst to an oncoming train. if he wasn't so busy whining about the delayed train, he would've seen that he could have walked to 23rd street (where he got off) in half the time it took for the train to come. he didn't see this opportunity and he missed it.
i won't.
-k.
----------------
Now playing: Mumford & Sons - Little Lion Man
via FoxyTunes
Showing posts with label fresh start. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fresh start. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 23
Friday, May 14
23 and counting
as i'm writing this, it is the 23rd anniversary of the day i was born. technically i won't be 23 years old until 8:04 p.m. but i can't promise that i'll feel like blogging in that exact moment, and i'll probably be out to dinner with my sister at an indian restaurant the size of a double wide trailer adorned with tacky lights that radiate a most festive milieu. what kind of twenty something writer would i be if i didn't reflect on the past year?
about 2 months ago there was a switch. a cocktail of circumstance mixed with me choosing self priority over misery has yielded some fascinating results. they call it growing up or something. the process can leave you staggering drunk through hallways of your old habits, but eventually lead you to a sobering state of clarity, which is something easier to taste hints of than to swallow. a shot of ourselves may not go down smooth--it burns, it stings, and you may want to chase it while listening to that lil' jon/lmfao 'shots' song. but if we hover around the salt on the rim of a dressed up fruity concoction, we can sip away with fear in a sleeker glass. the more we can disguise the taste of our poison the better it tastes, right? (i'm required to use a drinking metaphor because proper birthday protocol suggests i be wasted in a bar somewhere making mistakes with my life and puking).
and that's just the past two months. the changes of the past year are countless. i guess the more recent ones are shining more significantly because they are more current and have charted personal leaps and bounds even when i'm only taking baby steps. there wasn't any moment of enlightenment. there wasn't a specific spark. the temperature for change was just right i suppose.
a year ago i was freshly graduated which lends itself to a clean slate transition. throw a birthday on top of that and you can't help but glow of that new beginning feeling. this year i'm fighting to maintain that feeling, to keep the slate clean, to awake with fresh eyes that see positive light thru the clouds of negativity that people call 'life.' i hate when people say 'that's life' when something difficult arises. that's not life. that's a part of life. life is the whole damn ride.
i feel truly in the driver's seat. previously i knew i was directing my life, but it was more like i was a back seat driver politely trying not to interfere with the course of my own life. challenges always present themselves, many of them reoccurring, but it won't shake me to the core. i can lose balance but i'm able to recover. the problem with reoccurring issues is you tend to blame yourself for their reappearance as if you attract them. and maybe on some level it is in your nature, but the haunting familiarity of challenges past doesn't mean you are in the wrong. maybe they come back as an opportunity to apply what you learned in round one of this fight. or maybe you didn't learn. or maybe it's a total coincidence. but viewing it as an opportunity is half the battle in itself.
fact: i'm not very excited about my birthday. recent years celebrations suggest that it will in fact suck. my 21st was spent working 16 hrs at a minor league baseball game, which was a great job but an arduous doubleheader. last year, ugliness surfaced and one of my best friend's endured a break up. we still made the best of it, but my enthusiasm has since dwindled. i guess to me it's just another day, but at least i'm viewing every 'another day' as a fresh one.
-k.
about 2 months ago there was a switch. a cocktail of circumstance mixed with me choosing self priority over misery has yielded some fascinating results. they call it growing up or something. the process can leave you staggering drunk through hallways of your old habits, but eventually lead you to a sobering state of clarity, which is something easier to taste hints of than to swallow. a shot of ourselves may not go down smooth--it burns, it stings, and you may want to chase it while listening to that lil' jon/lmfao 'shots' song. but if we hover around the salt on the rim of a dressed up fruity concoction, we can sip away with fear in a sleeker glass. the more we can disguise the taste of our poison the better it tastes, right? (i'm required to use a drinking metaphor because proper birthday protocol suggests i be wasted in a bar somewhere making mistakes with my life and puking).
and that's just the past two months. the changes of the past year are countless. i guess the more recent ones are shining more significantly because they are more current and have charted personal leaps and bounds even when i'm only taking baby steps. there wasn't any moment of enlightenment. there wasn't a specific spark. the temperature for change was just right i suppose.
a year ago i was freshly graduated which lends itself to a clean slate transition. throw a birthday on top of that and you can't help but glow of that new beginning feeling. this year i'm fighting to maintain that feeling, to keep the slate clean, to awake with fresh eyes that see positive light thru the clouds of negativity that people call 'life.' i hate when people say 'that's life' when something difficult arises. that's not life. that's a part of life. life is the whole damn ride.
i feel truly in the driver's seat. previously i knew i was directing my life, but it was more like i was a back seat driver politely trying not to interfere with the course of my own life. challenges always present themselves, many of them reoccurring, but it won't shake me to the core. i can lose balance but i'm able to recover. the problem with reoccurring issues is you tend to blame yourself for their reappearance as if you attract them. and maybe on some level it is in your nature, but the haunting familiarity of challenges past doesn't mean you are in the wrong. maybe they come back as an opportunity to apply what you learned in round one of this fight. or maybe you didn't learn. or maybe it's a total coincidence. but viewing it as an opportunity is half the battle in itself.
fact: i'm not very excited about my birthday. recent years celebrations suggest that it will in fact suck. my 21st was spent working 16 hrs at a minor league baseball game, which was a great job but an arduous doubleheader. last year, ugliness surfaced and one of my best friend's endured a break up. we still made the best of it, but my enthusiasm has since dwindled. i guess to me it's just another day, but at least i'm viewing every 'another day' as a fresh one.
-k.
Sunday, November 22
fresh is the new stale.
ever attempt to start fresh so many times it becomes routine?
i am thankful. in the noted ugliess of bedbugs, some wonderful things have emerged. i now live with my sister on the uppereast side of Manhattan. the subway ride to my job is 14 minutes instead of 45. i have a job that i love. my apartment was newly renovated and free of all bugs. the kitchen is enormous enough to host Top Chef--or atleast enormous for Manhattan. i have a cell phone that wasn't made in 1991 anymore. the yankees are world champions.
yada yada yada, a world of awesome is at my finger tips.
i'm not bragging about how awesome my 'new' life is, which it is. but when you have made as many fresh starts as i have, and my family has, you duck. you know the other shoe is going to drop and you don't want to plunked when it does. you also learn that fresh starts are purely a mindset thing regardless of how many trips you take to furniture geniuses at IKEA and the moderately trendy and always affordable Kohl's. i started my job two days after moving in, so maybe i just haven't had a chance to catch my breath. but 'another fresh start' feels like 'another period of time until something throws me off track.' making so many attempts at the fresh start that changes everything makes the process rather stale.
this can stem from two places, and i am feeling the pinch of both. first, there is the multiple and simultaneous fresh start syndrome. second, there is "new begginings" thatall come back to the same issue. let's dive in.
new job. new apartment. new stage of life overall. and it gets kind of old.
ripping your life up by the roots can change your perspective on everything. or on nothing at all. sometimes, you feel exactly the same and the circumstances are changing. you still feel stuck, just in a different context. pieces of your life may change--home can be in a different direction, your every day life can take on an entirely new color, and aspects of your personality may change. but there is still that naggging feeling that won't dissipate. and the only thing you can do is coach yourself into trying to feel as great as everyone perceives you feel. except maybe of course for the people who see straight through you, and even they can be fooled. if you are trying to fool yourself for your own betterment, you probably throw them off too. you can only try and convince yourself that this fresh start stays permanently fresh and that the clouds overhead will pass as long as you don't step outside. and you are probably going to stay inside and eat whole pizzas and listening to John Mayer's "Something's Missing." and that is most certainly the same old same old.
our other scenario probably sucks more. it's when you attempt to start over with the same issue or person over and over and over again. and over again. being held back by an issue is no walk in the park, and it usually requires time and hard work. it can hold you back for the smallest incriments of time or forever and ever. grasping how to 'get out' is hard because most of these issues are external, but you have to invest in yourself to come to terms with things. chances are, if an issue has crawled under your skin (bed bugs are now showing up in my writing) then chances are the issue is irresolvable and the only thing you can change is how you cope. when you are pulled down and drowing in the waves of emotion, you are blind to this concept. which is why therapists make so much money. and also probably why you are listening to City and Colour's "Constant Knot."
when it's a person you are trying to start over with, the pain is equally as vivid, but the brightness is sustained because you now have a "past" a questionable and somewhat temporary present, and a future that is directionless, and your compass will have you pointing every which way. whether it's a romantic connection that you have, think you have, or think you should have, or just a delicate friendship that feelings like its breaking, or even already broken in the balance, the pain of interpersonal turmoil it a "different animal," because it's alive. hoping like the "different animal," but chances are if you are attempting to start anew with another you may be beating a very dead horse. or maybe not--maybe one crack of the whip will change everything. maybe a new start with the old will bring the kind of clarity you cannot pay for. but that is not in our control, and attempts to continue doing so don't leave your fresh starts stale, but in regression. it's never fun when you feel more pathetic for the experience. and it's probably why you are listening to Boys Like Girls "Love Drunk." but you SHOULD be listening to Ari Hest's "I Forgive You" or Charlotte Martin's "The Dance." and you know you shouldn't be listening to Love Drunk ever but it's secretly hiding on your IPod with Gwen Steffani's "Hollback Girl" and Kelly Clarkson's "My Life Would Suck Without You" on a guilty pleasure playlist.
just seek therapy when you get to Miley Cyrus--she ain't far off.
-k.
i am thankful. in the noted ugliess of bedbugs, some wonderful things have emerged. i now live with my sister on the uppereast side of Manhattan. the subway ride to my job is 14 minutes instead of 45. i have a job that i love. my apartment was newly renovated and free of all bugs. the kitchen is enormous enough to host Top Chef--or atleast enormous for Manhattan. i have a cell phone that wasn't made in 1991 anymore. the yankees are world champions.
yada yada yada, a world of awesome is at my finger tips.
i'm not bragging about how awesome my 'new' life is, which it is. but when you have made as many fresh starts as i have, and my family has, you duck. you know the other shoe is going to drop and you don't want to plunked when it does. you also learn that fresh starts are purely a mindset thing regardless of how many trips you take to furniture geniuses at IKEA and the moderately trendy and always affordable Kohl's. i started my job two days after moving in, so maybe i just haven't had a chance to catch my breath. but 'another fresh start' feels like 'another period of time until something throws me off track.' making so many attempts at the fresh start that changes everything makes the process rather stale.
this can stem from two places, and i am feeling the pinch of both. first, there is the multiple and simultaneous fresh start syndrome. second, there is "new begginings" thatall come back to the same issue. let's dive in.
new job. new apartment. new stage of life overall. and it gets kind of old.
ripping your life up by the roots can change your perspective on everything. or on nothing at all. sometimes, you feel exactly the same and the circumstances are changing. you still feel stuck, just in a different context. pieces of your life may change--home can be in a different direction, your every day life can take on an entirely new color, and aspects of your personality may change. but there is still that naggging feeling that won't dissipate. and the only thing you can do is coach yourself into trying to feel as great as everyone perceives you feel. except maybe of course for the people who see straight through you, and even they can be fooled. if you are trying to fool yourself for your own betterment, you probably throw them off too. you can only try and convince yourself that this fresh start stays permanently fresh and that the clouds overhead will pass as long as you don't step outside. and you are probably going to stay inside and eat whole pizzas and listening to John Mayer's "Something's Missing." and that is most certainly the same old same old.
our other scenario probably sucks more. it's when you attempt to start over with the same issue or person over and over and over again. and over again. being held back by an issue is no walk in the park, and it usually requires time and hard work. it can hold you back for the smallest incriments of time or forever and ever. grasping how to 'get out' is hard because most of these issues are external, but you have to invest in yourself to come to terms with things. chances are, if an issue has crawled under your skin (bed bugs are now showing up in my writing) then chances are the issue is irresolvable and the only thing you can change is how you cope. when you are pulled down and drowing in the waves of emotion, you are blind to this concept. which is why therapists make so much money. and also probably why you are listening to City and Colour's "Constant Knot."
when it's a person you are trying to start over with, the pain is equally as vivid, but the brightness is sustained because you now have a "past" a questionable and somewhat temporary present, and a future that is directionless, and your compass will have you pointing every which way. whether it's a romantic connection that you have, think you have, or think you should have, or just a delicate friendship that feelings like its breaking, or even already broken in the balance, the pain of interpersonal turmoil it a "different animal," because it's alive. hoping like the "different animal," but chances are if you are attempting to start anew with another you may be beating a very dead horse. or maybe not--maybe one crack of the whip will change everything. maybe a new start with the old will bring the kind of clarity you cannot pay for. but that is not in our control, and attempts to continue doing so don't leave your fresh starts stale, but in regression. it's never fun when you feel more pathetic for the experience. and it's probably why you are listening to Boys Like Girls "Love Drunk." but you SHOULD be listening to Ari Hest's "I Forgive You" or Charlotte Martin's "The Dance." and you know you shouldn't be listening to Love Drunk ever but it's secretly hiding on your IPod with Gwen Steffani's "Hollback Girl" and Kelly Clarkson's "My Life Would Suck Without You" on a guilty pleasure playlist.
just seek therapy when you get to Miley Cyrus--she ain't far off.
-k.
Thursday, November 5
silver linings and karma upswings.
here is a list of everything equally as/more disgusting than bed bugs that has ever haunted me:
pedro martinez.
that's it. they are disgusting enough to rank with with my least favorite active baseball player who deservingly just lost the world series. somewhere in a tampa apartment, don zimmer is laughing. and that apartment doesn't have creatures braced with tiny legs and antennas who are out for nothing more than blood and to ruin lives. god was having an off day when he made these little sons-of-bitches.
but hey, at least they are impossible to get rid of outside of throwing away all of your possessions from your entire furniture set down to your favorite outfit. hope you have a shirt-off-your-back attitude, because these miniscule bloodsucking demonseeds will imbed their disgusting unseen eggs into it and breed more disgusting bugs and resentment toward your once comfortable home.
the problem started a month after my sister moved into our charming infested dwelling. our landlord, (a huge jerk) said it was not his responsibility to eradicate satan's offspring. this isn't legal, and we will probably have to drag out this arduous process in court. but we got an at home kit. about a week ago--on top of a lingering sinus infection and somewhat less lingering break up--my sister rudely awoke to welts in triads that lined her neck, shoulder, and arm. the evil force did not die with our protect-a-bug aid, it simply laid dormant.
one bite. one bite of your blood. that's all it takes for one of these twighlight wannabes to live for an entire year. first, i was jealous because if i only had to eat once a year i'd definitely lose the stubborn extra weight that hangs around and i'd also make BANK. second, we realized that this is one problem that no at home kit or fumigation is going solve this problem.
no amount of money or charming molding is worth staying in this place. this disgusting insect is like any of life's problems, or at least that's what i'm going to tell myself to cope with the repulsive reality. metaphors i can handle. bugs i cannot.
we can manifest whatever temporary solution we want for virtually anything we encounter. booze, strangers, food, a million new hobby's, a new haircut, a dartboard with your ex's face on it. there's always a remedy--just ask the Black Crowes. but all it takes is one bite to remind you that this is a false fix. memories slap you in the face like cold air on these crisp november days, and the endless possibilities of what could've been if he/she didn't die, if cancer wasn't there, if they didn't leave, if you hadn't fallen down on your luck--they will sink their teeth into you and never let go if you don't let go first. when hope turns up false, you will wear many swollen marks, and false hope--like bugs--will crawl deep into your mattress and never come out of the woodwork.
eventually, there is the need to find closure, or at least acceptance. including but not limited to therapy, prayer, time, yoga or kick boxing depending on what part of the process is rearing it's head, crying, talking, coffee, fumigation. in no particular order. but they all involve putting on your big girl pants and facing your problem. like my sister and i, you realize there is no way out of this mess. you have to slam the door, and never go back, because the hotbed is just growing hotter. and not hot enough to kill the bugs. maybe down the road post-fumigation you can revisit this place. when you no longer view it as home, and you realize the image of comfort is not what you imagine, you can come back only to take what is rightfully yours, and what can be salvaged.
once you make it through the ugly, it's time to move. move out. move on. move around to avoid being immersed in pain. move to a clean modern building on 88th & lexington that can in no way be described as historic and can boast the title of newly renovated. move along. it's a risk, and also an All American Rejects song. but their catchy beat and mediocre lyrics have a point. it takes courage to move on, there is a level of grace in it, even if the process itself isn't graceful. there is a beauty in walking away and leaving the bugs behind; in breaking free, breaking away, breaking your lease. right now moving is a risk, but it's also our only option. some people think that courage is being scared of something, and doing it anyway. i don't know if courage always demands an element of fear, but this is definitely a component of courage even if it doesn't embody it's meaning. if an infestation of emotion and/or mini draculas creep in, you will get bitten. so, you have to get busy living, and they can get busy dying. that way you, morgan freeman, & my shawshank redemption reference can live as emotional minimalists, and carry around only the cleanest, smallest amounts of baggage. it's the Ikea of feelings.
in the present, this sucks. a lot. i have to go on makeshift shopping sprees at cheap stores with money we don't have. we have to sell my car (that i'm not using...but it's my first car!) to fund the situation. i have to live as a nomad, couch hopping and trying not to burden others. we have to throw out all of our possessions and buy doubles of what we already own because something 1/8 of an inch destroyed everything we have, and we can't even donate what we are replacing. the meaningless and sentimental all have to be incinerated if there was even the slightest chance of exposure. i will be moving while simultaneously adjusting to my new job which will inevitably create chaos.
it seems like good things and tough things synchronize themselves. when the good stuff all comes at once, you feel blessed. when the tough stuff comes all at once, you feel overwhelmed. i find myself asking what i did to bring on these bad things. why is karma biting me sans welts? did i hurt someone beyond my own knowledge? are the Yankees really an evil empire that i'm cheering for? did i kill someone in past life?
then i am reminded, usually by my dad and people with more hindsight than i, that when something awful happens, something great usually comes out of it. usually i don't get the instant gratification that this bedbug situation has lead to. because now my commute to work will be about 12 minutes, all of my resources will be around the corner, i will be living with my sister and best friend, and the job i'm starting is an opportunity that fuses my interest for PR, music, and non-profits. our landlord is named Dorris, and i don't think you can be a jerk if you are named dorris. and we will have a fresh start with brand new, for a lack of a better word, 'stuff.' the load we carry will be lighter in every aspect.
in the end it's fine, if it's not fine, it's not the end. this Anonymous guy is onto something. he and Winston Churchill are credited with the same amount of quotes.
the welts will go away. the bugs won't--but the problem will. a fresh start brings a clarity that you can't pay to get.
bed, bath, & beyond didn't realize what they had with this beyond concept. the beyond in a move is limitless.
-k.
pedro martinez.
that's it. they are disgusting enough to rank with with my least favorite active baseball player who deservingly just lost the world series. somewhere in a tampa apartment, don zimmer is laughing. and that apartment doesn't have creatures braced with tiny legs and antennas who are out for nothing more than blood and to ruin lives. god was having an off day when he made these little sons-of-bitches.
but hey, at least they are impossible to get rid of outside of throwing away all of your possessions from your entire furniture set down to your favorite outfit. hope you have a shirt-off-your-back attitude, because these miniscule bloodsucking demonseeds will imbed their disgusting unseen eggs into it and breed more disgusting bugs and resentment toward your once comfortable home.
the problem started a month after my sister moved into our charming infested dwelling. our landlord, (a huge jerk) said it was not his responsibility to eradicate satan's offspring. this isn't legal, and we will probably have to drag out this arduous process in court. but we got an at home kit. about a week ago--on top of a lingering sinus infection and somewhat less lingering break up--my sister rudely awoke to welts in triads that lined her neck, shoulder, and arm. the evil force did not die with our protect-a-bug aid, it simply laid dormant.
one bite. one bite of your blood. that's all it takes for one of these twighlight wannabes to live for an entire year. first, i was jealous because if i only had to eat once a year i'd definitely lose the stubborn extra weight that hangs around and i'd also make BANK. second, we realized that this is one problem that no at home kit or fumigation is going solve this problem.
no amount of money or charming molding is worth staying in this place. this disgusting insect is like any of life's problems, or at least that's what i'm going to tell myself to cope with the repulsive reality. metaphors i can handle. bugs i cannot.
we can manifest whatever temporary solution we want for virtually anything we encounter. booze, strangers, food, a million new hobby's, a new haircut, a dartboard with your ex's face on it. there's always a remedy--just ask the Black Crowes. but all it takes is one bite to remind you that this is a false fix. memories slap you in the face like cold air on these crisp november days, and the endless possibilities of what could've been if he/she didn't die, if cancer wasn't there, if they didn't leave, if you hadn't fallen down on your luck--they will sink their teeth into you and never let go if you don't let go first. when hope turns up false, you will wear many swollen marks, and false hope--like bugs--will crawl deep into your mattress and never come out of the woodwork.
eventually, there is the need to find closure, or at least acceptance. including but not limited to therapy, prayer, time, yoga or kick boxing depending on what part of the process is rearing it's head, crying, talking, coffee, fumigation. in no particular order. but they all involve putting on your big girl pants and facing your problem. like my sister and i, you realize there is no way out of this mess. you have to slam the door, and never go back, because the hotbed is just growing hotter. and not hot enough to kill the bugs. maybe down the road post-fumigation you can revisit this place. when you no longer view it as home, and you realize the image of comfort is not what you imagine, you can come back only to take what is rightfully yours, and what can be salvaged.
once you make it through the ugly, it's time to move. move out. move on. move around to avoid being immersed in pain. move to a clean modern building on 88th & lexington that can in no way be described as historic and can boast the title of newly renovated. move along. it's a risk, and also an All American Rejects song. but their catchy beat and mediocre lyrics have a point. it takes courage to move on, there is a level of grace in it, even if the process itself isn't graceful. there is a beauty in walking away and leaving the bugs behind; in breaking free, breaking away, breaking your lease. right now moving is a risk, but it's also our only option. some people think that courage is being scared of something, and doing it anyway. i don't know if courage always demands an element of fear, but this is definitely a component of courage even if it doesn't embody it's meaning. if an infestation of emotion and/or mini draculas creep in, you will get bitten. so, you have to get busy living, and they can get busy dying. that way you, morgan freeman, & my shawshank redemption reference can live as emotional minimalists, and carry around only the cleanest, smallest amounts of baggage. it's the Ikea of feelings.
in the present, this sucks. a lot. i have to go on makeshift shopping sprees at cheap stores with money we don't have. we have to sell my car (that i'm not using...but it's my first car!) to fund the situation. i have to live as a nomad, couch hopping and trying not to burden others. we have to throw out all of our possessions and buy doubles of what we already own because something 1/8 of an inch destroyed everything we have, and we can't even donate what we are replacing. the meaningless and sentimental all have to be incinerated if there was even the slightest chance of exposure. i will be moving while simultaneously adjusting to my new job which will inevitably create chaos.
it seems like good things and tough things synchronize themselves. when the good stuff all comes at once, you feel blessed. when the tough stuff comes all at once, you feel overwhelmed. i find myself asking what i did to bring on these bad things. why is karma biting me sans welts? did i hurt someone beyond my own knowledge? are the Yankees really an evil empire that i'm cheering for? did i kill someone in past life?
then i am reminded, usually by my dad and people with more hindsight than i, that when something awful happens, something great usually comes out of it. usually i don't get the instant gratification that this bedbug situation has lead to. because now my commute to work will be about 12 minutes, all of my resources will be around the corner, i will be living with my sister and best friend, and the job i'm starting is an opportunity that fuses my interest for PR, music, and non-profits. our landlord is named Dorris, and i don't think you can be a jerk if you are named dorris. and we will have a fresh start with brand new, for a lack of a better word, 'stuff.' the load we carry will be lighter in every aspect.
in the end it's fine, if it's not fine, it's not the end. this Anonymous guy is onto something. he and Winston Churchill are credited with the same amount of quotes.
the welts will go away. the bugs won't--but the problem will. a fresh start brings a clarity that you can't pay to get.
bed, bath, & beyond didn't realize what they had with this beyond concept. the beyond in a move is limitless.
-k.
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