4

The very next day we were finally in Universal Studios to see the amazing Harry Potter exhibit. We went on silly rides that lasted 3 seconds, we waited in line for 90 minutes at a time, and at some point we were shot in the face by villans on the Spiderman ride.

We ate the following items: chicken strips, fries, a gigantic turkey drumstick, corn on the cob, churros, and pretzels. What a healthy day. Of course the best part was the butterbeer, eating in The Three Broomsticks, and buying candy in Honeydukes. This was an incredible spectacle and impressive business model, since even the retail stores had long lines to wait in. I've never seen anything like it. We intended to get on another ride but after a 45 minute wait in line for the wand shop, we were DONE.

And, I couldn't breathe. In addition to the cold I had in Chicago, my allergies had kicked in and I felt close to passing out a number of times. It's really irritating that my lungs and sinuses only seem to like Seattle and put up an impressive fight everywhere else.

After this long day we were picked up by my friend A, who drove us to Tampa where we would rest and get ready for her wedding rehearsal the next day.

3

I guess you could say that United Airlines and I have parted ways. Once in Chicago, I tried to contact both Delta and United to switch around my trip to Florida so I wouldn't have to return to Seattle. Didn't work. Tuesday night I had a 9pm flight to Seattle, and the following morning I would be flying from Seattle to Minneapolis, then on to Orlando. I couldn't believe what a waste it all was. I was dreadfully frightened that this flight would be cancelled, and then I would lose money and buy tickets again and AAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH. I intended to get to the airport and try to fly standby on an earlier flight, but couldn't make it. In fact, I was unwell. By that I mean both physically and mentally. I caught a cold in Chicago and generally felt down.

Did I do the right thing by interviewing across the country? Where was my next check coming from? How was I going to pay for everything during this trip?

My mom tried to soothe me as I packed for Florida. While she folded my most gorgeous yellow cleavage bearing halter top, she wisely explained that my priorities were the reason for all this confusion. I used to want to travel all the time and I did that. Then I wanted to move away and I did that. Now things are different and since I haven't found my road, I've got some turmoil. She made it seem like it's all no big deal. Eventually it will be clear and easy. My parents said that they couldn't stand to see me like this and offered to help me financially, which is ridiculous because they're broke. It was a nice gesture. Due to this emotional day, I didn't get to the airport in time to fly stand-by and would have to hope that there weren't problems on this flight. I checked flight status all day and it said on time, so I was reassured.

Once checked in, I went straight to the bar. One beer was enough to calm me down and be ready for another 4 hour ordeal. Arriving at my gate I noticed there weren't any attendants there yet. It was odd. Then I noticed how few people were at the gate and it was getting close to boarding time. I mentioned to the girl across from me that this flight seemed really empty, and she replied: "You must have missed the announcement. They just said we're delayed 3 hours."

I was dumbstruck. This meant that I would arrive in Seattle at 1:30am, and need to be back at the airport by 6am. I was stunned for about an hour, but thank goodness for friends and a charged phone. I was just going to have to deal and remain positive that all the other components to this trip worked out. I'm not one of those ungrateful people that flip off the flight attendants, like others did that night. I know just how lucky I am to be able to fly up in the air with a bunch of people and cargo, but to have two terrible airport experiences back to back has given me airline preferences. United and I are no longer a team. They don't deserve my money.

As it was, I got to lie in a bed by about 2:30am, and a cab came to get us at at 5:00am. I wrote in my journal that night that I never want to fly again. Wherever I end up, people are going to have to visit me.

We made it to the gross hotel in Orlando by 10:30pm eastern time and intended to go across the street to Universal Studios by 8am the next morning. Yeah right. We didn't get there until 11.

March Recap 2

Since I was in the back of the plane, I was one of the last people to exit and therefore way in the back of the line to talk to a human in customer service. Despite having a cheery disposition for the duration of my eight hours in the airport, this was when I started to cry. How embarrassing. Standing in the back of the line crying without any tissue handy is just awful. People looked at me for a second and looked away. I wondered if this is where you cut your loses, decide that clearly the job at Northwestern isn't in the cards, or if since you made it this far do you keep trying?

What ended up happening is that United Airlines called me with an automated message explaining that they already put me on the 6am flight and I was good to go then, unless I'd like to talk to someone in customer service. Well, I wanted to talk to someone in customer service. They left a number at the end of the message which I luckily remembered correctly, and by some miracle, I got through to a human.

This human was sympathetic to my teary explanation and somehow replaced my United flight with an American Airlines flight, which was leaving in 15 minutes. While I was on the phone with her waiting for a confirmation number I had to make my way to the American gate, and I didn't know where it was. I asked a few people, hopped on a shuttle, then another shuttle and by some stroke of luck ended up at the right place. The attendant at the gate was nice and eventually contacted someone that gave her my voucher number, because of course, it didn't go through in time.

After arriving at the Seattle airport at 8am PST, I was finally in Chicago by 10:30pm central; a full and preposterous day. I planned on reading interview questions that night and preparing for the interview, but instead was dead to the world.

The interview went ok as far as I could tell. I didn't like that they were interested in me due to the previous government experience, and that this job would be quite similar. I also didn't like that this was merely step 3 in the process and there would be a computer assessment afterwards, and yet another round of interviews if I am called again. It's amazing that a simple admin job requires all this trouble. Still, to get to this stage in the game is pretty lucky. I am told that there are 200 applicants for every position at a place like Northwestern, so I must have done the right thing by jumping on this. If I'm not the right person for this position, at least HR knows that I tried. Again, you never know when life happens.

That night I watched Suze Orman's new special on PBS. I felt like she was talking through the television directly to me. She went on and on about how we didn't value work and weren't prideful about earning. We weren't honest with ourselves and with others about our finances and always stretch it to the limit when we shouldn't. This rang true to me. I wasn't being honest with anyone about money. The truth was that I couldn't afford to move to Seattle and I couldn't afford to have my own place in Chicago. I couldn't afford to only work part time at the yoga studio. I couldn't afford to be a bridesmaid and have a vacation at this time. I couldn't afford gifts I gave to my family and new interview clothes that I bought for myself. I definitely couldn't afford to be flying all over the country and I can't afford a car, which is becoming a needed item.

I joked with my family that night that I wished I could live on The Island of Aviva for just one year. An island which would have no ailing grandmother, no broke parents, no trips to Israel, no boyfriend, no weddings, no funerals, no births, no clothing stores, etc. Admittedly, this is a silly and selfish desire. A few months in and I would be lonely as hell anyway, wondering where my life went. Still, there are times where we want so badly to please others and be there for everyone else, that something slips for ourselves. I am afraid that by taking seemingly selfish steps, I would lose the support of those that have been most supportive. Yet, what will happen if I continue on like this?

The March Recap 1

March was significant for me. I had a series of events which led to March being one of the busiest months of my life. I celebrated a birthday with good friends and fondue, pizza, cupcakes, etc, I interviewed for a job across the country from where I am currently living, I started a temp job, I was a bridesmaid in a wedding, I got lost on the way to another interview, and I was a defendant in an arbitration, which luckily I could participate in over the phone.

Much of this required flying around. I flew from Seattle to Chicago, from Chicago back to Seattle, from Seattle to Minneapolis, from Minneapolis to Orlando, from Tampa to Houston, and from Houston to Seattle. So much for watching my carbon footprint. If I had to fly back to Chicago for the arbitration I might have become homicidal.

Somehow turning 32 made me feel older. For the first time in a long time I feel older, like truly this age rather than the free spirited extended twenty something I was. When I got the call on my birthday that Northwestern wanted me to interview for a job I had a phone interview for a month earlier, and applied for 2 months previous to that, I felt like I should go. Surely this was the adult thing to do. What kind of idiot turns down an opportunity? I booked a last minute flight two days after my birthday and felt like I had done the right thing. You never know where opportunities come from. I joked with my mom that I should move to Israel, and then maybe I'll be offered a job in New Zealand. You never know when life happens.

And so despite being in Seattle for nearly a month and trying to regain a sense of life there, I found myself in the airport wondering just what would happen. I got there early, had a decent sandwich, and calmly read while waiting to board. Once on the plane and moments before departure we were told that there was an issue with the plane and a mechanic was called. It would be about 30 minutes.

After 30 minutes they said it would be another 45 because the mechanic was called away due to a family emergency, and they were now waiting on another one. They said that if we'd like to get out and stretch our legs we were welcome to.

I went out to use a bathroom and make a call or two. I was mostly in good spirits because I figured it was nice of them to let us out of the plane. As long as I got to Chicago that day, everything would be fine. It didn't matter how late we left. It was a non-stop flight, so I really couldn't complain.

In 45 minutes they said that they didn't know when we would be leaving and that we needed to get all of our stuff off the plane since we might get another one. I went back on to retrieve my backpack since I had only taken my purse. It was gone.

I told the staff that someone took my backpack and they insisted that I must have moved it. They helped me look for a minute, but I said, no someone took it. It's black, I'm sure 20 people on this plane have black backpacks. Couldn't they just make an announcement at the gate? They refused and said I would have to report it to customer service. What stupidity. Someone just took the wrong bag. I panicked for a mili-second, but realized that I would just have to stalk everyone out there. I eventually spotted it with a young girl who was mortified for grabbing it, especially since her dad took her backpack. What can you do.

They said we would be leaving at 2:30. Plenty of people had to re-book or cancel due to their connections after this flight, but they announced that anyone just going to Chicago was fine and not to worry. We were leaving at 2:30.

So I boarded at 2:15. Once everyone was buckled in and they told the flight attendants to prepare for take off, we sat for another 10 minutes.

And then they announced that the flight was cancelled. We could get on another flight the next day at 6am. That flight was not going to get me to Chicago in time for my 10am interview downtown. It was also already 5pm Chicago time and I was unable to contact anyone at Northwestern to make a change.

Suze Orman

Apparently I am not standing in my truth. Shit.

Heart Opening

Today I am 32 and for my birthday I wanted my boyfriend to attend a yoga class. Actually, he is starting an intro series this evening which I felt was meant to be. In the last year I have successfully convinced five people to attend class and I am currently working on three more. I believe.

Often birthdays and new years eve are times of reflection, and/or disappointment for the easily disappointed such as I. However, if I measured the years by my yoga practice then I have accomplished quite a lot. I've often thought of myself as having commitment phobia, but yoga has been with me for five years now. I took it even earlier then that but I hadn't yet formed the addiction.

Several poses have been my nemesis for years. Just the thought, "I can't do this," has stopped me from being able to. It's in the brain. Full wheel, Urdhva dhanurasana, or simply the backbend was something I thought of as an impossibility. One day I had an epiphany in class when I was lying on my stomach and easily lifted my chest and pulled my feet up into the air near my head. It's called bow pose, but isn't just an upside down backbend? If I can do this, surely I can do that.

I took a few workshops hoping that by 2011 I would backbend. One teacher described how a backbend clears the airways to creativity, and opens your heart to love and wisdom. I like that idea whether it's realistic or not. She had given out pamphlets about opening the heart chakra, and said the theme of the class was to relax into expansion. Specifically it said this: "..activating these energy centers allows ecstatic energy to flow into every part of your body. When ecstasy flows, it enhances every aspect of your life; sexual, spiritual, mundane, etc..."

Well, we know that I don't care for the New Agey spirituality stuff, but I liked the way she talked. She made me feel calm and focused and as if everyone in the world wanted this backbend to happen for me. Through a meditative technique I envisioned a rope sitting in my chest that was pulled up from an unknown hand and all of a sudden I could do it. In another workshop I imagined a blanket of warmth coming over my chest and a lightness in the upper back, which simply pulled me right up. I probably knew that I had the arm strength and just needed encouragement. We all come to do things we think we are incapable of sometimes, but the strength is there all along waiting for you to believe in it.

Whatever happens with all my various projects and cities and confusion, at least I know I have reached this goal. There have been several others that I've managed to reach through yoga and there are several yet to come - like the handstand that I am currently working on. It truly gives me a tangible means of success. I am now a 32 year old woman that can do a backbend and that makes me more accomplished, more wise, and more open than I was a year ago.

Shrimpy Wimpy

While in the Pacific Northwest I can feel stress and weight lifted off my shoulders. That weird pain in my shins and feet from walking hills is nothing compared to the nice tightness in my calves and abs. All of a sudden I feel prettier, relaxed, and free.

A perfect day in Seattle includes a yoga class, a long walk, a writing session in a cafe, and a stop to the market for some fish. If I could work all this around a job/school schedule then I would be a very happy girl. All of those components have yet to come together for me, so still I make whirlwinds around the country trying to find my place. It's like I have my own Tale of Two Cities, without the war and hangings. I find myself wishing to never sit in an airplane again, and to just say no to everyone for 365 days. No I can't go out with you, no I can't leave the country with you, no I can't buy this or that, no I can't take care of you, no I can't visit, no I can't help anyone except myself.

Recently I had a perfect day in Seattle where I got to do everything that I like. My mission at the market was to get shrimp. I was surprised to see that many of the options there were of the frozen variety, and even more surprised to see the cost of the fresh variety. A sales/fish throwing guy came over to help me. He said that since I am from the midwest, practically all the fish I ever consumed in my lifetime was frozen. What an excellent sales pitch! He's absolutely right! Who wants to eat frozen when you can buy fresh? The shrimp had come in from Alaska that morning and were on my dinner table that night.

However, one big problem stared me in the face before accomplishing my dinner plans. The only fresh shrimp they had was still in the shell. I remember dealing with this a few years ago but I must have blocked the memory of shelling shrimp, as it proved to be the most disgusting activity I have done in the kitchen.

The thing is that you get yourself psyched up for how the shrimp will look and taste after they're cooked, but there is that whole other factor involved. You have to snap, pull, and dig stuff away from its slimy squishy body first! Some of them even have tons of ball like things connected to them, which I can only assume are eggs but don't want to think about it. First you have to sort of stab them and pull the knife downward while the legs move about or rip off. Then you pull the rest of the skin off, (or dig all the balls out with your hands - oh my god I am nauseous just writing this) then you have to pinch the tail part and yank it off. Whew. Gross.

What you are left with resembles overgrown pinkish maggots:



I had to walk away from this experience many times before I finished shelling them all. It gave me the heebie jeebies. I convinced myself that I simply could not eat these maggots for dinner, despite so looking forward to it. I persevered though and by the time they were cooked, I was mostly over it. Still, that night when I went to bed I saw all of it so clearly in my mind and could feel the slime and crunch on my fingers. The moral of the story is to just by frozen shelled shrimp and enjoy a lovely dinner.