Tuesday night = Not as productive as I planned, but at least I remembered to breathe.

Perhaps I'm still running on leftover zen from my New England weekend. Lovely leaves tend to have a lasting effect on me.

Our volunteer in the office this morning spent her time making bright origami butterflies for the staff. They are lovely, and a nice break from the calendars and to-do lists on my dull gray wall.

In other news, I'm off early tomorrow morning to scratch that persistent travel itch once again. Across the country to a new city to visit some old and not-so old friends. Deeeelightful.

Catching up

I do believe I missed September. The same sad post sitting at the top of the page for far too long. Let's fix that.

It's funny (or bizarre) how the universe takes so much time barely nudging you to do anything greater, become anything greater, and then SMACK out of the blue, in the least subtle way possible, it provides an obvious and clear path that moments before was completely shrouded. And my restless self jumps all over this exciting realization. Story of my life. Make a big change, adjust to said change, be comfortable and happy, become restless for next big change. Repeat as necessary.

I got a bit of my restlessness out a few weeks ago when I, along with my lovely parents, ventured to California, where I had never been before. I've got a lot of country to see in between here and there, but it was a good start to exploring this big ol' land. We went to San Francisco first.

We hiked through quiet redwoods as the morning fog lifted, saw and heard the loud sea lions at Pier 39 (the whole time I couldn't get Feist's "Sea Lion Woman" song out of my head), explored both the deep hills of the city and the calm Marin headlands, ate absolutely fantastic food, and generally enjoyed ourselves. We stayed at Old St. Mary's, California's first cathedral, where my mother's best friend is the pastor. The part of me that feels a bit bad about not attending Mass as regularly as I used to (damn Catholic guilt!) was concerned with this idea, but they have an entire hotel-like setup for guests, and were such funny, kind, witty men that I quite enjoyed it. And being so close to church bells, so close to a sacred space stirred up something that can wait until another post.

After a few days in the city, we rode to Napa to meet up with family for the wedding that occured that weekend. Wine tastings, beautiful weather, dancing, lovely new friends and spending time with family are five things very much my style. It was incredible. And very very easy to forget that a completely different, and much more responsible life awaited my return.

Traveling normally settles my restless feet for awhile, but now I find that I'm even more restless, or perhaps just ready. Ready for the next step. For so long my focus has been on the present, on being happy being exactly where I am, regardless of what will happen eventually. Now I'm beginning to feel the shift to what's coming next. No drastic moves in the immediate future, but still it seems the restlessness has settled in for good. At least until the next big change occurs.

Will Travel For Hugs.

Let's all pack up and move this year
Slip the liars and disappear
Leave memories for auctioneers
And those just standing still
M.N.

There's something both comforting and tragic about having so many close friends living so very far away. On one hand, if I close my eyes and imagine these friends, it's as if the earth is pulsating with warm, gentle vibes just for me, with epicenters in San Francisco and Copenhagen; Brazil and Colorado; Amsterdam and London and Washington DC and even (on particular Wednesday evenings) WaKeeney, KS. I am a lucky and loved girl.

But when my eyes are wide open and I have a hard day, imagining these love-vibes is not a sufficient replacement for a deep strong hug. And even the magic of skype can't recreate a hearty laugh with an beautiful friend over a few cold beers under a warm starry sky (How's that for a lesson in prepositions?).

I crave physical connections. If I like you at all, on any level, chances are you have endured being hugged, patted, poked, squeezed, punched and generally touched by me. And when a separation happens and you leave or I leave and I'm unable to love/abuse you physically, I feel a little bit disconnected with not only you, but myself. Note to self: become better at phone conversations. And find new people in my geographic region to prod and jab.

It's so exciting to watch how everyone's path is being laid out before them, stone by stone. Or rather, to see which stepping stones we're all choosing. Jobs, marriages, families; it's all so adult of us. Yet most of the time I still feel like a pre-adolescent version of myself, watching from the outside, itching for my adult adventures to begin but secretly being happy that I have some more time to just be a kid.

Today I'm grateful for

• NPR.
• choosing sleep over fixing my hair in any way this morning.
• not needing caffeine anymore to get through the day.
• learning new and useful keyboard shortcuts at work (literally a highlight of my day).
• the end of Blockbuster's late fees.
  
• the coconut lotion in my desk that magically transports me to a sunny beach with hot sand as I sit in my cold office.
• inexpensive plane tickets.
  
• a long conversation with an old friend where I get to hear about the wedding plans for a couple I watched fall in love years ago.
  
• my quiet apartment.
• being able to devote an entire night to reading without feeling the least bit guilty.
• you, lovely reader