Aw. This is really quite lovely.

Aw. This is really quite lovely. :)

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See, now this I do not understand.

The cold spell that's been holding New England in its icy grip broke last night, which means that I was able to leave my house without wearing my 3/4-length down coat for the first time since... November, I think. And I woke up this morning with pure, warm sunlight pouring into my room (finally, I've missed it so much), and I snuggled down under my *very* soft new sheets from Bed, Bath and Beyond, and -

- I realized I miss Florida.

Oh, my GOD, do I miss it this morning. The beach, the salt air, the palm trees, the vibrant exotic flowers, the endless baking sun, the sunsets, the sea shells, the weirdos and the humidity and the clouds that hang like sculpted mountains in the sky. I miss watching a sunset at Crabby Bill's on St. Petersburg Beach while having a mai tai and listening to Jimmy Buffet. And I don't even like Jimmy Buffett. Now, I have not missed Florida in anything more than a passing twinge since I left it in March 2005.

Sigh. Perhaps I'll take the Boston Ferry to Cape Cod this weekend or something. I might just need to be near the ocean. Even if it is too cold to swim in it.

That said, Boston is beautiful in the spring. I'm working at the Simmons School of Management for the next few days, and it's located in this beautiful ancient building on Commonwealth Avenue with high ceilings and natural skylights - old, oval-shaped skylights that mirror each other on every floor, so natural sunlight runs all the way through the building. It's really a stunning work of architecture.

What's exceptionally beautiful about the location, though, is the fact that the entire street is lined with Saucer Magnolias, planted ages ago by a feisty woman who loved the elegant, flowering trees.



This is the best image of the street that I could find online. It doesn't do the experience justice, but just imagine that you're walking down a street and every single garden you can see all the way down the street looks like this, with a just-blooming variation of massive, hot pink or scarlett or peach or ivory blossoms, and it is just breathtaking:



Clearly, once my tax return comes back, I'm going to have to buy a digital camera so I can take pictures of Spring in Boston. Because it really is quite something.

Glockenspiel

Today was a brilliant, magnificent day for so many reasons. One, the lawyers I was working for were too busy to give me the TON of work they gave me yesterday. Two, my temp agency found a substitute for me for the rest of the week, and I trained her today, which = I don't have to go back. YAY!

I had a great "Friday Night Lights" dream which involved Jason Street, of all people, telling me how awesome and talented I was, which was great fun.

On the way home from the law firm, which happens to be located in Boston's downtown pedestrian district, I realized I was hearing bells. I thought it might be a church, but there were no churches nearby. I found myself at a corner where they got the loudest, and I looked UP -

- and saw a Glockenspiel. :jawdrop:

In Germany, glockenspiels are all over the place. They're kind of the equivalent of music boxes built into the buildings and town squares, but with REAL BELLS, and ancient mannequin dancers or jousters or just a really complex watch system. And granted, this was nothing like that, because it was just several bells on the corner of the old Filene's Basement building, but...

It was playing THE GODFATHER THEME. I thought I would die from the happiness. It was just. Brilliant. And people were walking around, not noticing, talking on their cell phones, and I wanted to tackle them and say "LISTEN! I have not seen or heard anything like this in pretty much ANY OTHER PART OF THIS COUNTRY, do you know how COOL THIS CITY IS?"

I mean. Sigh. I *love* the european touches of this city, I truly do.

I picked up my paychecks from the temp agency, which I shall deposit tomorrow; got my "Curly Girl" book from Borders, which I've already read through to the end and am going to take with me when I shop tomorrow; watched a new episode of "Gilmore Girls", which was really great, and I thoroughly enjoyed even though it wasn't "Friday Night Lights"....

All in all, just a really GREAT day. Tomorrow I get to stay home for the most part and apply for jobs. I'll brave the horrific wind and rain to go food shopping & hair product shopping, but that's it - and I'll go back to work on Thursday. My IRS and NY State refunds should be deposited this week, which I'm also really looking forward to.

Sooooo relaxed and at ease. Life is good.

Worst. Day. Ever.

OK, not as bad as major national tragedies. But close. I got perhaps four hours of solid sleep, because the walls in my bedroom were HUMMING from the 60-70 MPH winds we're currently having in New England. I nearly tripped going down the stairs this morning. It was the most miserable, cold, wet, horrid weather. I missed not one but *two* trains this morning. When I got to work the doors were locked (I did get a french toast finagle-a-bagel with cream cheese, and that was yummy). But all those horrors were nothing compared to working in a legal firm.

Never in my life have I been so sure I never, ever wanted to return to a field of work. My hands ache from all the stupid things I had to type today - legal documents, six-page, *handwritten* documents on yellow legal paper, and all. Day. Long. I've never typed so much, or been so confused, in all my life. I called the temp agency and told them I didn't want the assignment, and they've arranged for someone to come in and train with me tomorrow, so I only have to work there for one more day. And I think I can handle that.

It was just. Horrible. I hated it. I didn't understand the language, I didn't understand how the documents needed to be formatted, I couldn't read their handwriting - I say "their", but it was really only one of the two lawyers who was awful - it was just an awful experience, and I'm SO glad it's over. I really thought I would burst into tears this afternoon, but I pushed on through.

I felt like singing all the way home when I got confirmation that I only needed to be there one more day. Rock! :) I called and cancelled my audition tonight for the improv troupe - I hated to do it, but I'm in absolutely no shape whatsoever to go to an audition, and they hold them on a regular basis.

So now I'm home, and don't have to go anywhere, and the winds have died down so perhaps I'll be able to have some sleep tonight. That makes the worst day much, much better.

America's Walking City

Boston has been called "America's Walking City", and I proved it today. I took the T just a few stops and then walked to the Museum of Fine Arts - a five-mile roundtrip trek from my house. I didn't stay at the museum for long, I just wanted to familiarize myself with the area. I sat out in the courtyard, browsed the museum shop, meandered through some Monets, Seurats and Degas, and then left to do some windowshopping. I returned some stuff to Bed Bath & Beyond and browsed this great art store called "Brick", which is just MASSIVE, and has all. sorts. of art equipment. Eeeeeee!

I came home and looked through 35 (thirty. five.) pages of comments on the TWoP boards for the recent FNL season finale. After thinking about it, re-watching the episode, and having a few personal epiphanies, I realized that while it might not be one of the strongest episodes of the season, I still enjoyed it immensely.

After that, I re-watched "Mulan", bookmarked a bunch of Harvard jobs, and I'm probably going to crash pretty soon. All in all it was a very nice day. The Red Sox played a home game today, so I got to see all the faithful headed to the stadium. It's still chilly, but not too much so. I will definitely be happy when things start to bloom again, though - six months of winter is enough already!

Spoke with Mom this morning and she's doing really well. It's nice to hear her and Wolfgang so happy - they're really enjoying spring in Germany.

Better thoughts

I spoke to Jonathan last night, and he and I had the best conversation we've had in a really long time. We spoke for 30 minutes (I really am *very* happy with this unlimited calling through Skype), and I felt so relaxed and at ease at the end of it. There really is nothing like speaking to friends who KNOW you, who really understand who you are and how you think and feel. I told him about my insomnia and anxiety, and he really listened and was sympathetic without being overly concerned.

I still woke up in the wee hours of the morning, but this time it was at 4 a.m., not 2 a.m., and my jaw wasn't sore from grinding my teeth. So I just lay there in the quiet dark, thinking, trying to really pay attention to what I was feeling. I noticed this dull ache in the left side of my chest, right over my heart, which is often there - I'm so used to it now that I rarely pay attention to it. I folded my hands over the ache and asked myself what was wrong, and this voice came up, saying these really violent, angry, frustrated, mean thoughts. Very Linda Blair in the Exorcist, in a way.

It (or I) was really furious with me. It said that this was all life is, and I had to get used to it; that I brought this upon myself; that all these things that had happened in my life were my fault; that I was worthless, stupid, ugly, awful, horrid... just really intense, violent, angry feelings.

And I let it be. I let it be angry. Because I think it was stuff from all the way back when my parents got divorced, and how I felt that I was to blame. That the death of their marriage and my life as I knew it was a direct result of my worthlessness or not trying hard enough or not being a better child or human being. And what was a real gift was what my mom had told me when she was sick in the hospital - that it wasn't my fault, of course, and I deserved so much better than I got from her or my father, and that she knew they had failed me and let me down. And I didn't argue with the voice, although I think I might benefit from some
cognitive-behavioral therapy to help me realign those thoughts; I just poured love into the ache, and reminded myself of what my mother had told me, and I slowly felt a little better.

And this morning the world looks better, and I'm excited to be going outside, and I feel like I'm looking forward to the day.

I'm also curious what Sean's church, Science of the Mind, would have to say about monitoring these thoughts, and how changing your thoughts can really change how you can see the world. The ache is still there, but it's not as pronounced, and now I think I can go back to it again and talk to it some more.

There and Back Again.

I feel blue today. It didn't help that last night's FNL season, and perhaps series, finale, fell short of the mark for me. Nor did it help that I drank three glasses of wine after not imbibing in much of anything at all for a prolonged period of time. Nor that I'm in a city without a network of friends.

It's the last one, really, that's bothering me.

I'm a naturally lonely person, I think. It stems from growing up in a different city every other year when I was a kid - sometimes every year. I did very well when I was a kid, but the transition from Europe to America when I was a teenager was just kind of brutal - I was used to being much more open, much more okay with my individuality. There's also a sort of naivete that comes from growing up in Europe (or at least there used to be): kids don't grow up quite so fast, and the transition from child to adolescent is a little more manageable. Losing not only my mother but my home and my understanding of social norms proved too tough to handle - I often felt isolated or awkward during my early teenage years, and found it difficult to make friends - and that's where I really started putting too much emphasis on my relationship with my mother, too.

So there's a natural inclination for me to feel lonely and to wallow in it, instead of being proactive about it. And I avoid dealing with the loss by escaping into books or television. Which only makes the isolation more pronounced, of course.

I'm lucky in that I have very thoughtful roommates, and work is going well, and I'm in a good space. But I think I have to toughen up a bit and really challenge myself to be easy on myself and reach out to book clubs and theater groups and music opportunities. Because I've found great people and wonderful friends everywhere that I've gone - Gainesville, Pensacola, even New York.

It's terribly cold outside today, and the wind is howling against my windows so loudly that my room is actually humming sporadically with the intensity of the reverberations, and I'm glad to be inside, in my jammies. I feel sad, but it would be much harder to be outside, or to be working today.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

While I was speaking with my 19-year-old half-sister recently, she mentioned that she'd realized that in 11 years, she'd be 30. And not to minimize the importance of that first "hey, I'm actually going to AGE!" realization that comes with the end of your teenage years, but cry me a freaking river, because tomorrow I will be 38 years old.

I've moved twice in the last two years: once from Florida to Manhattan after the 2005 hurricane season, and more recently to Boston from New York. I always thought NY would be a haven, a collective of similar spirits. It's a magnificent city, but it's just not me: too big, too focused on ambition, too fast. So I moved to Boston in the hopes that I would find more of a home here.

I moved here on March 24th, and so far it's working out very well. I have regular work through a temp agency, which was always a chore in NY; I live in a big room on the highest floor of a three-story Victorian house, which is very well-kept and lovely, and has a great view of the Boston skyline; I live with roommates who are thoughtful, outgoing, kind and very low-maintenance.

And yet I keep having trouble sleeping, which is new. I wake up at two or three in the morning and can't get back to sleep for hours. I wake up exhausted when the dawn is crashing into my room and drink three or four cups of coffee to get started.

I feel free, and I've wanted to feel that way for a long time, but I also feel untethered, and want to find my ground. So I've started making calls to improv groups to see if & when they're holding auditions, and talking to my roommate Christine about singing with her at one of her church groups. I think that will help.

In the meantime, I've got Friday Night Lights on my birthday, and my roommates and I are ordering thai food and they're getting me a cake. :)

Which is pretty damn nice.