Yesterday there was no blog, because I was so physically and mentally exhausted that there was really nothing to say except this: Texas is a big ass state. So big that we drove for 12 hours and still didn't make it all the way across. We passed through hundreds of miles of desert, with gas stations and towns a couple hours apart. There was no relief from the sun beating in the car windows and no where to go but forward. We finally reached civilization (San Antonio) around dinner time and thought we'd relax with a nice dinner on the famed downtown river walk. We were wrong. That place was more hoppin' than Cancun on spring break, and after almost an hour of searching for a parking space, we were so frustrated, tired, and hungry that we headed out of town toward Houston. When we finally reached my aunt Martha's house in Houston last night, it was like seeing an oasis in the middle of the desert. Actually now that you think about it, that's actually what it was to us. We had a great time visiting into the wee hours of the morning and even had a mini-birthday party for my cousin John who celebrated his 25th bday on St. Patty's day. This morning, Martha fixed the most incredible breakfast that would rival any B&B out there. And - drum roll -I had my first serving of grits in over 4 months! Reunited and it feels so gooooood...
After some much appreciated (and needed) hospitality, we headed back on the 10 (which I actually switched to calling I-10 about halfway through Texas...NOOO!) toward New Orleans. FYI: New Orleans is the greatest city in the world. I've been here several times over the years and every time it just gets better and better. This is my dad's first time in NOLA, so it's been fun getting lost together and showing him this beautiful city.
I will never forget tonight. Ever. We took the trolley to the French Quarter (we are staying in the garden district) and walked around for a while to get our bearings. We then headed to Deanie's Seafood at the suggestion of Ms. Carolyn, my go-to New Orleans expert. Let me tell you - KILLER seafood and delicious drinks. Dad ordered some insane bloody mary that came with green bean, potato, and shrimp garnish. Now that's Cajun. While wandering down Bourbon Street, me with a daiquiri in hand, dad with wide eyes and a buzz, we stumbled upon Preservation Hall - one of the all-time famous jazz joints. We got there just in time to hear the last set and experienced some of the best live music I have ever heard. Preservation Hall is said to offer some of the world's last "pure musical experiences" and after spending an hour there, I must say it was nothing short of pure magic. If you enjoy live music, you know that feeling during a great concert when you think: "I could listen to this song forever." That's how it was in this small dimly lit room with some of the most talented musicians I've ever been witness to. In that moment, I felt total joy.
Tomorrow morning we will have some delicious beignets at Cafe Du Monde before heading east once again, and tomorrow night our journey will end back home in Georgia. This road trip feels shorter and less climatic than before, but no less significant. I am traveling toward another exciting chapter and trying to enjoy the highs and lows as they come. Life right now is like a great jazz tune that could take an unexpected, brilliant turn at any moment. And I can't help but think -- I could listen to this song forever.
These last two days have been nothing but a blur. This will be brief because I'm currently only typing with one eye open.
The move went off without a hitch. Dad was a rockstar (as usual) and we got packed up and headed out of LA around 2:30. The car was ridiculously full again, despite the 5 boxes I mailed home last week, and with the addition of my dog Gally the ride is a little more uncomfortable than I remember. Two hours later and we were already itching to get out of the road at our first stop, Palm Springs. We had a great dinner with my Grandma and got a good night sleep in preparation for our first big driving day.
Today we drove 4 hours to Phoenix, had a great lunch with my aunt and cousins, and continued driving through Arizona, New Mexico, and finally to Texas. We are stopping in El Paso for the night... completely ready for some shut eye.
This trip is drastically different from the last one, in some good ways and some bad. I think I went through every emotion possible today: excited, mad, happy, carsick, sad, quiet, chatty, and finally content. Transitions are tough, messy, exciting, and confusing. I'm just trying to work through whatever feelings come my way and enjoy this trip for what it is, not try to make it like last time.
We are about a stone's throw away from Mexico, so I'm hoping for some bomb huevos rancheros tomorrow morning before an entire day driving through Texas. We're hoping to make it to Houston tomorrow so that we'll be on target to reach New Orleans mid-day on Sunday with a little time to sight-see/pig out on beignets. Signing off until tomorrow.
Anyone who has ever moved knows that lists are crucial to success. I've gone a little overboard lately, with such an intense to do list that I literally had to schedule "take a shower" and "walk the dog" in between runs to the post office, salvation army, and the endlessssssssss packing. Now I find myself on the eve of moving day, with a million thoughts and feelings running through my mind. I don't feel insightful, nostalgic, happy, or sad - instead I feel EVERYTHING! And it's hard to sort through everything. Therefore, I am going to be super type-A and end my LA life with more lists.
on my last night in LA i feel:
- tired
- excited for a new chapter in life
- sad to leave a place i've grown to love
- stoked to see my dad tomorrow
- nervous about working at a new place
- excited to work at a new place
- like my arms and legs might fall off from lifting so much
- damn, this air mattress is uncomfortable
top 10 things i will miss about LA:
1. incredibly perfect sunny days
2. Venice skate park on the beach
3. the lingo - mellow out, narly, stoked, totally, super, rad - all very efficient adjectives
4. neon tank tops
5. food trucks!
6. millionaires who look like they're homeless but drive a Ferrari
7. Ferrari's
8. farmer's markets
9. Saturday bike rides along the beach
10. Sunday brunch, and the delicious morning cocktails that accompany this delightful meal.
top 10 things i will NOT miss about LA:
1. traffic
2. lindsay lohan
3. traffic
4. the fact that running an errand takes 2 hours, no matter where you have to go
5. traffic
6. the monstrous wad of cash it takes to fill up the gas tank
7. traffic
8. street cleaning days!! i mean really, what IS that?!
9. traffic
10. rush hour all day every day
and with that, i must go to sleep. have to get up early to pick up dad from LAX tomorrow morning. we are packing up and heading to Palm Springs for a pitstop with grandma. will report more tomorrow. let the adventure begin!
Tonight as I drove home from babysitting two adorable kids who have grown near and dear to my heart for the last time, I found myself making a few different turns and did not end up at home. Instead I drove to the Venice Canals, a great hidden spot in LA that few non-Angelenos know about. It was the same exact spot I drove to a year ago with Grace. We parked our car near a bridge, hopped out, and explored the waterways and pedestrian bridges with our video camera in tow. We were on an adventure and wanted to chronicle what we found. That night was just a small adventure inside of a much larger one. We were new interns at TOMS, new residents of LA, new to this crazy chapter in our lives, new to a friendship that would transform both of us. Whether we were happy or sad, everything was exciting because it was new - every turn in the road, every emotion we felt, every laugh we shared.
A year later I found myself on that same bridge, looking out at the canal, noticing every light that reflected on the water. I noticed every palm tree that swayed in the wind. But I didn't feel excited. Because this time I was alone and it was not new. This time it was not a beginning but an end. This chapter in my life is almost complete. In 5 days I will pick my dad up from the airport, we will pack my car once again, and we will drive. But this time we will drive east.
I'm not good at change, endings, or goodbyes. I know this and will eventually have to think of a way to deal with it other than driving around town feeling nostalgic day and night. But for now, nostalgia will have to do. Nothing but good has come from this chapter. TOMS and LA have changed my life for the better. And I hope (actually I know) one day I'll be back. But that doesn't make it any easier to say goodbye to the people and places I have grown to love. I suppose this is the curse of being 23. On a constant journey, faced with endless decisions to make, with never enough time for the pit stops. Even when I do come back to the west coast some day, it will be a different pit stop, and it will most certainly be different. So I think it's important to take the time to appreciate each and every moment of the last 15 months, each person who has walked in and out of my life, and each lesson I've learned. It's time to bundle all of that up and pack it in the car with me as I continue down the road.
I am really excited to go home, to see my family and old friends, and begin the next chapter of my life and career. But when I arrive, I will not be the same person that left over a year ago. I've struggled a little internally with the thought that returning to Georgia might mean I'm throwing away everything I've worked so hard for here in LA, that going back might make me "back to normal." But tonight as I looked out on the water I realized something: I'm not normal. And after the last few years I've had, I'll never be normal again. That feeling, that revelation that I had, it all the sudden made me feel strong and powerful again. There's no way to lose everything I've gained here even if I tried to. Sure, I may not be able to bike to the Pacific or eat delicious food from a truck every weekend, but I have been changed for the better. With every year that passes, I am learning and growing, and although I've had quite a few ups and downs, so many that sometimes I feel dizzy, I mostly just feel proud. Because those ups and downs are life, and although I may have experienced a few setbacks here and there, if anything's for sure it's that I'm living the hell out of my life. And I'm pretty sure that's the biggest accomplishment anyone can hope to achieve.
So now I enjoy the last few days of west coast life. I will bike to the beach every day, eat as much good food as I can, and enjoy every second of the view. And then on Thursday I'll give my dad a gigantic hug hello, get back in the car (no doubt with a few tears in my eyes), and continue on the road toward the next adventure waiting for me.
I'll be sure to blog from the road again as our last cross country road trip was certainly a trip I'll NEVER forget. And pretty soon I'll be working in Atlanta - a city very unlike LA in that I have a deep history with it, although I've never actually lived there. It's where I had my surgeries, where I was in love, where my heart broke, where I sat in hours upon hours of traffic, and where I met my niece for the first time. But this time it will be new and fresh just like LA was when I first arrived. Because this time it is the destination, and this time it is mine.
I will end with this quote that I find beautifully inspiring. I try to live my life this way, and I think it's important for everyone to try to make themselves uncomfortable too:
"You were not born to play small. You were not given the gift of life to simply survive your way through life and then die with your dreams unfulfilled. That does not have to be your reality. You can create your own reality, but you gotta make your inner resolve stronger than your life circumstances. Choose in every moment to step outside your comfort zone, to trust just a little bit more and to express yourself. There is a risk in opening up, but the real risk is staying comfortable."
This is a quote from the journals of Dan Eldon, a photo-journalist with a fascination for capturing humanity, specifically in Africa during a time of tumultuous politics and civil unrest. He had a desire to learn about the world and a desire to change things, and at the young age of 22 his quest was ended prematurely when he was stoned to death by an angry mob in Somalia. Despite his tragic death, Dan left a legacy through his journals; a legacy that will continue to affect lives, inspire change, and bring hope. Dan's journals are the inspiration for the spring line of TOMS, which is why I've been thinking a lot about him lately. And his motto: The Journey is the Destination.
This reminds me a lot of a blog post I was writing one year ago while traveling out to California on the journey of a lifetime. I was referring to the cross-country journey I was experiencing with my dad. Little did I know- my journey was so much bigger than the 3,000 mile roadtrip I took last January.
There are many journeys one takes in a lifetime. Whether it's a journey lasting a few hours, weeks, months, or even years, we are constantly faced with decisions. Right or Left. Yes or No. To get out of bed, or not. I wish these were the only decisions I've been faced with. But there are decisions much harder and much scarier than deciding if you will turn right or left. There are certain fears one has in life that are unimaginable. And then, in the blink of an eye, or the ring of a phone, the un-imaginable becomes the must-imaginable. And the journey takes a course so scary and so painful that you can't prepare yourself for, one that no seatbelt can protect you from. And even when you think that the hardest decisions are in front of you, there are only a few that really matter. You must decide to believe in hope. You must have faith. And you must trust in the journey.
I have this quote posted on my Facebook profile, and just recently saw it again. I actually forgot it was there. And now I can't get it out of my head:
Life is a series of experiences, each one of which makes us bigger, even though it is hard to realize this. For the world was built to develop character, and we must learn that the setbacks and griefs which we endure help us in our marching onward. -Henry Ford
For me, February is the hardest month of the year. It is for many people back home, because we are reminded of how fast so many of our worlds can be turned upside down. It will mark the third year that has passed since our friends were taken from us. We'll never forget, but we must march onward. We must trust in our journey and we must have faith in the road ahead.
The humidity covers you like a blanket the moment you step out of the sliding glass doors at Hartsfield International. This airport sends a rush of excitement through your body. The "Fly Delta" sign you saw as your plane touched down on the runway caused a smile to form from ear to ear and you can't believe you're back in the South. You wait outside of the baggage claim and wait for her familiar black CRV to appear among the organized chaos. Just as you remember that she bought a new car during the 5 months you were gone, you spot her in a shiny new Ford. The new car is not the only addition to her life, and when your sister emerges to help you with your bag, you smile and blink back tears at the sight of her 6 month belly bump - yes, she's ACTUALLY pregnant with your future niece. You ride through the early evening with your favorite person in the world, chit chatting about the flight (uneventful), if you already ate dinner (yes), and what you think of her pregnant belly (not as big as you expected). The downtown Atlanta sights are familiar - Turner Field, the golden domed Capital building, The Varsity Drive In - yet, in that moment you feel as if you're seeing them for the first time. As you drive up to the house your sister shares with your (sort of) new brother in law, you feel content, relaxed, happy. You feel home.
A few days later and you're driving up the South Carolina coast with your cousin, windows down, music blaring, singing at the top of your lungs. The two of you chew bubble gum, drink Starbucks, smoke a cig (or two), and laugh till it hurts, all for old-times sake. As you cross the causeway onto Pawleys Island, driving past cattails in the marsh and breathing in the salty air, you remember how good this place makes you feel. You drive up to "Sand Castle," a yellow-ish beach house perched on stilts overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The "Sand Castle" will be your residence for the next week, and little do you know that it will, in fact, become a castle full of sand brought in by your 24 family members also staying inside. That first dinner time is of epic proportions - heaps of spaghetti with sauce and meatballs made by your grandfather - "Pop." He used the venison sausage his best friend "Porkchop" brought him on his last visit to Charleston. The air rings with screaming and yelling and laughter at an almost intolerable decibel - a noise so loud you are sure it can only achieved by your family, who gets together just twice a year. You smile, enjoying every moment that you are with them. Then you pipe right in, attempting to yell louder than all of them so they'll hear what you have to say. You feel home.
You turn the key, walk in, and breathe deeply. No matter how long you've been gone, it always smells the same. You walk up the stairs, drop your bags as you've done several times at other places in the last 10 days, but this time tears fill your eyes as you spy the familiar, fluffy bed in the corner and the bulletin board that has the same pictures it did the day you graduated high school. You look at the pictures in the frames lining your bookcase - it seems like they were taken in a different lifetime. But they weren't, and the emotion from the past 5 years suddenly comes flooding back, but you don't mind, because sometimes pain feels good. You lay on the bed and sink into it, literally becoming one. You don't get up for a while. You walk your dog, Emily, who is almost as old as you are. It is nighttime - the air is thick and the stars are bright. The crickets sing their songs and the neighbors wave hello from their front porches. You smile and, of course, enthusiastically wave back. You appreciate the simplicity of a nighttime walk through the neighborhood. You get back to the house and call your mom who is admirably spending 4 weeks down in Florida getting a Master's degree. This house isn't the same without her puttering around in the next room, but you are proud of her. You look at the clock and realize that dad will be home from rehearsal soon. He will, no doubt, be excited to chat over a midnight snack. You close your eyes for a minute and curl into the couch pillow. You miss this. You are home.
Wowsas... it's been quite a long time since I've posted. I am constantly thinking of things in my head I should write down, but apparently I never actually make it to a piece of paper or a computer, seeing as my journal and blog are empty since the beginning of April. It is kind of fitting that the last time I checked in was right around One Day Without Shoes. Because to be honest, that is when my life went from comfortable chaos to complete whirlwind.
RECAP:
Bc of the amazing success of ODWS, things at work really started picking up. I was trusted with a lot more responsibilities, which was totally fine by me. The interns were also in charge of the TOMS 4th Birthday initiative at the beginning of May, where we developed a campaign to challenge people to do One for One acts of kindness. We filmed a viral video to ask people to participate and it got almost 10,000 views! So awesome! Besides our international campaign (no big deal), we hosted a birthday party picnic in a local park for TOMS HQ. It was sooo much fun and was, in my opinion, the moment when we all realized that we were not "just interns," but in fact an integral part of the TOMS family. Check out the recap video:
It will make you smile when you see how amazingly eccentric, hilarious, and awesome everyone who works at TOMS is. This video makes me smile. And these people have made me smile every day for 5 months. Which is why I'm a little misty eyed as I write this, and why I was more than a little misty eyed yesterday on my last day of work.
Like all great things do, the TOMS internship ended for me yesterday after 134 of the best days of my life. I met some amazing people who became my family (including 10 strangers who will forever be my schminterns for life), had incredible experiences that would not have been possible anywhere else, and learned more about myself than I ever expected. I ended my internship on a total high note, having 4 great meetings yesterday with people whom I have come to love and respect, and having finished my work knowing that I gave it my all. I feel so proud of what I accomplished at TOMS, and no matter what happens, that is all I ever really wanted. And in my opinion, that is all that really matters. Doing good work and meeting good people and knowing that at the end of the day, you left nothing unsaid, left nothing undone - except for maybe a couple of small projects, sorry Caitlin! :), and left feeling damn good about how you spent this time in your life.
So what's next? I get this question 1,637,872 times a day and you have no idea how thrilled I would be if I actually knew the answer. So here's what I do know about "what's next"...
- Tonight, I will be going with my roommates (who are now officially my west coast family) to the Braves/Dodgers game at Dodger Stadium. Cannot think of any better way to spend my first weekend of unemployment.
- Monday, I will continue to look for jobs in L.A. I'm in a really great place in my life right now, and I'm not ready to leave. So yes, I am staying out on the west coast. Maybe through the summer, maybe through Christmas, maybe through the year 2014. Stay tuned.
- This summer, I will continue to write for the FYI magazine back home and hopefully babysit as many precious, over-privileged babies as possible in the hopes of being able to pay the bills. I will be visiting Augusta/Atlanta/Charleston the end of June, beginning of July, so if any of you back home feel like helping me ring in the 23rd bday on July 1, you know my number ;)
- I will continue to bug my TOMS family since they are just that, my family. Maybe I'll end up back there (still my #1 dream), or maybe I won't. But either way, this experience has changed me for the better and I am forever grateful to everyone in that Santa Monica warehouse.
So I believe that is all that I have to report. When I know more, so will you. If you know of any positions available in Marketing/Communications/Social Media/anything that pays $$, my personal email is sewalpert@gmail.com and I promise to give you a gigantic hug for any leads you may have. I'll give you a gigantic hug anyway, but a job lead would be nice. Thanks to all for the words of encouragement the last few weeks. While I am sad, I remain very optimistic. I have faith that a lot of great things are in store. I wanted to share a quote from an email my dad sent me yesterday. He has a way of knowing just when I need a pep talk and sending an amazingly encouraging email my way. Yesterday's "you're awesome" email was so great, I shared with my fellow intern David, and this quote both got us through what could have been a super depressing day:
"Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like." — Laozi
