Ramblings: Sometimes I need...

Sometimes I just need silence. There are moments when I wish I could close my ears as easily as I close my eyes, shut out the world for a few tiny minutes, bask in the glory of no noise. Or just place my headphones over my ears, turn the volume up, close my eyes and wait for my heart to soar. Just a few minutes, a few minutes to recreate the balance that has become top-heavy. Readjust the scales, put the thousands of noises and smells and visions and feelings that fly into me, clashing together en route, into their proper little boxes in my brain. Those boxes that are covered in colours that blend together to create a wonderfully multicolored life that sometimes, just sometimes, needs a little calm. A waxing and waning hurricane that requires a little rest by the ocean before tearing onwards and upwards towards its next destination.

Little voices need my ears and my arms, day and night; words ping onto my phone screen looking for answers or help or just to make me laugh; music comes from one side of the room and smashes into the sound of the cartoon that is playing on the other side. Peppa Pig and Nick Cave melt together, becoming one in my mind, and while the image itself is quite entertaining, the reality is a little jarring. Twinkle twinkle little star in my red, right hand. Can someone please ask Robert Smith to record a few lullabies?

Remember when as a child you would look towards adulthood and imagine that all of a sudden everything would change, you would suddenly become more responsible, know the answers to questions, even invincible? Then slowly but surely, as the years pass you realize that you are still the same child inside, your shell is a little weathered and your features more defined, but there was no adult awakening. Instead you continue to walk along your path wondering what being an adult actually means. I feel like such a fraud at times, playing at this game of "being an adult", accepting, embracing the role of parent but still protecting that shy, scared but strong willed soul inside of me. She fights back sometimes, urging me to just jump in the deep end with abandon while I weigh the pros and cons, balancing freedom and responsibilities on both palms of my hands. Adult is just a word for being over 21, nothing more than a word. I think we are all still searching for those elusive answers, some of us trembling inside, but determined not to show it. While the fears of earlier years have subsided somewhat others have taken their place, as simple joys have taken the place of the constant search for something more, something better. Nowadays it’s all about the opening of a rose, the scent of freshly laundered clothes in the wind, a long walk down a country lane. Dreams are less of foreign travels and new discoveries and more of good health and happy children, but nonetheless still entwined. Priorities move around the board, hopping over each other to find a more advantageous spot in the game, and some wishes are stranded for a while until their turn comes round again. My main concern nowadays is to slow everything down, embrace all of the moments and let go of those that won’t be coming round anymore. Some things are just better left to others, or, at least, better left in the past. Nostalgia will cover those memories in a soft, pink cloud, and will allow me to write about them later in a different light.

Ah, in the end silence isn’t always necessary. A few moments to myself to pull these words out of my mind and onto paper also help balance those scales again. A little time with The Cure, singing at the top of my voice twirling a baby around the room works too. A long walk around, imagining life in all of the pretty houses surrounding us; hearing my eldest say a new word out of the blue; baking something delicious that makes others happy; and a long, hot shower with the birds chirping in the background through the open window. I don’t need much, but sometimes I have to remember when I do need something to make it known. Silence can be as expansive as it can be harmful.

Ramblings: Sorting through my thoughts...

A rambling rant and some progress...

Sometimes I really wonder what I want out of being a freelancer. I know I want to write. I know I want to write about everything and anything. I know that writing makes me feel happy and that it makes me dig both inside and outside of myself to create something that makes my skin tingle. I also know how despairing it can be when you suffer from low self esteem and a constant lack of self worth. There is always an underlying question running through my brain, telling me that nothing that I write will ever be good enough anyway, so why do I continue to bother? And at the same time I sit there astounded by the absolute crap that some publications promote! I know that there is somewhat of a consensus that everything needs to be dumbed down nowadays, but is that because the people browsing content online require it? Or on the contrary because newspapers and blogs and other writing outlets are more intent in getting content out there as fast as possible instead of actually trying to produce informative and interesting articles? And when did the job title editor become “person who constantly misses typos on even the most prestigious news sites”? I remember a time when the BBC actually provided excellent news articles, well written and well researched. Nowadays they seem to mainly be written by toddlers with toddler attention spans.

So much is based on website clicks and traffic and “likes” and “shares” nowadays too. And this isn’t limited to writing but to all types are artistic and non-artistic endeavours. If you can’t generate a good, steady stream of traffic then people don’t even bother to even read or listen to or look at what you do, because it is deemed of no importance. Yes, before the internet you would have to really go that extra mile to get published, have your demo listened to or get your artwork exhibited, but at least everyone was on the same level to begin with. Hard work didn’t include getting people to click through to your website and leave again and hoping that what they saw sparked some kind of interest. And while you still need to pitch and pitch and pitch today, some people just don’t care how great your work may be, they are just interested in how many people “like” you page and how many “shares” your content could generate. The amount of writing job proposals I receive that are more about creating clickbait content or writing fluff to boost SEO keywords is pretty insane. Or even better, getting paid to write content for your own website that actually contains an underlying advertisement to a company. These jobs can pay pretty well and are easy to do, but they kind of make me feel sick to the stomach (and yes, I have done a few). And then, if your website doesn’t generate at least 500 views a day you aren’t deemed good enough to hire.

Don’t even get me started on all of those practically false clickbait article headlines! All they do is generate comments from people who haven’t even bothered to actually READ the article (The Independent I’m looking at you here, amongst others). I do understand that everyone is trying to generate clicks and views mainly so that viewers scroll past advertisements that pay for the bulk of the publications’ website and staff but I would honestly rather pay a small online subscription fee for say the New York Times and actually read some decent journalism and writing. Is it that hard nowadays to actually read through more than 500 words before getting bored and scrolling on? Is that all people want to do, be constantly assaulted by fake headlines and shock tactic images? Instead of researching a subject or a current event do we just want to blindly follow some website’s information and assume that it’s true, and maybe add our own misinformed comments to the stream of individuals who have very strong ideas about something they know little about? Maybe this is why I still have a hard time with Twitter. While I love the concept of having all of this information at my fingertips I find it difficult to navigate through the constant updates of snippets of information and dialogue. And I’m not one to post random thoughts on the internet all of the time, so after a few retweets and a few clicks I feel overwhelmed.

I know full well that a lot of my frustration in finding work and making headway in my writing career lies in my own inability to focus on one thing at a time and actually continue to push myself. I refuse to find a “niche” for my blog so it remains to be a bit of everything. I have been told countless times to find a “niche” and promote that, but I don’t want to. I started blogging in 2003, on LiveJournal, but have been journaling since the age of 9. My blog was always an area where I could write about whatever I wanted to write, and it gives me the courage to put parts of myself out there. Every year I push myself to be a bit more open with my writing, to share things that I wouldn’t have felt comfortable sharing with the world and I want to continue to push myself. I know there are many things I could be doing better social media wise. I know that I should be collecting articles and pitching to all kinds of publications. I know that what I really need is to set myself a proper schedule and stick to it – I’ve always thrived on a strange mélange of impulsions and routine, and I’m not where I should be right now. I feel like I am spreading myself so thin that I am not doing anything properly anymore. I try to write and breastfeed and play and entertain and eat and cook and write and tidy and do laundry and groceries and read and watch movies altogether and when you do too many things at once, nothing is done properly. I will have a hundred ideas all at once and can’t actually sit down to really develop any correctly. I get frustrated with myself and with the world and then the moments of self-doubt creep up on me… What if I actually really am not that good? What if I actually fail at what is the only thing that I have really wanted to do in life? I can only blame so much on the internet and the quality of writing that people are looking for nowadays.

The thing is, I KNOW I can write. I just need to stop procrastinating and find a way to make things work again. One of my main stumbling blocks in life is that I always find it easier to concentrate my efforts on what is going on around me rather what I need to do for myself. And having two little children provides a great excuse for not getting anything done. So I just need to work out a new routine and make it work again, writing as much as possible, pitching as much as possible and working on my essays and short stories again. I have a huge pile of work that needs to be edited or rewritten and a lot of things that need to be written. I’m currently working on my travel memoirs series, I have a collection of essays around Orchard St and I plan to start one on Ludlow St. I want to finish off the collection of childhood stories and wrap a bow around it. Maybe actually start looking for an agent. I don’t know. I just know that I don’t want to continue to fight clients on pricing structures because they can “get cheaper elsewhere” and I know that I want to see my name right by anything that I produce. Not because I want to be “famous” or “recognized”, just because it would be quite thrilling to see my name accompany my writing. I never wanted to be a ghost writer and even though I don’t mind doing paid ghostwriting work, I would like there to be a balance.

So that’s that. A rambling rant and some real progress. This is why I love to write – the written word helps me to sort through all of the thoughts that crash against each other in my mind, thunderstorms with pockets of sunshine, and determine next steps.

I’m still annoyed about how Facebook practically forces you to pay for ads to “boost” your content if you want people to see it though. And I have no idea how to incorporate keywords into my content to force it to appear in a web search. Isn’t that what tags are for?! I suppose that’s why people hire social media specialists…

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Ramblings: Working in the Kibbutz Dining Room

When I got back from Israel in 2004 I spent a few months in California and managed to put many memories down on paper for future reference. I am so glad I did as reading through them brings me a lot of happiness amongst the waves of nostalgia. Here is the description of a typical day working on the kibbutz for me (slightly edited from the original that I jotted down over a decade ago). I kept the tense as it was when I wrote it because it immediately took me right back there. All of the Hebrew is transcribed as I understood it and all of the people mentioned are real. This is the second and definitely not the last piece on my stay in Israel (the first one, On Kibbutz Evron, can be found here).

There we are in front of the Dining Room, at 6am on the dot, on time as usual even after the few frustrating minutes of trying to round everyone up so we can go altogether (Nick’s “I still have to brush my teeth aye Kitkat, I’ll meet you up there” still resonates in my ears to this day).

“Boker tov!”

“Good morning, boker tov.” Vica, Vova, Doron, Sasha, Ofer, Ganit, Marina, Rami, Zoran, Motti… No Ronen yet because Ronen is always late.

First things first, a dash (I’m talking 6am after four hours of sleep dash) to the hot water machine for a polystyrene cup of strong, sugary tea. And into the kitchen I go with Isabel. For anyone who thinks a kitchen should be the warmest place anywhere, it isn’t in Evron. In the winter the water in “our” sink takes 10 minutes to heat up and cold air comes through all the top windows, but in the summer it becomes a lovely respite from the burning sun. Vova dumps the crates of vegetables to be cleaned next to the sink (although before Vova was promoted to manager I had to carry those crates by myself and my back hated me for it!).

One of us goes to get the plastic containers while the other starts on the vegetables; red peppers in halves or thirds, cleaned and placed on the tray; spring onions cut, cleaned, piled on the tray; white onions peeled, cleaned, halved and put on the tray (done with the obligatory latex gloves because I learnt my lesson the first few days- onion smell does NOT go away even after prolonged and multiple washes); tomatoes washed, checked, into containers; cucumbers the same procedure; parsley cut, cleaned and put out next to the lemons in the food area of the Dining Room.

Zivouv (“around”), my favourite job, going around the outside of the Dining Room, sweeping up cigarette butts and other miscellaneous garbage, changing the bins and cleaning the “station”. This has to be done before breakfast, so outside I trot while Isabel cleans and fills the napkin holders. It’s my favourite job because I get to sneak in a cigarette while working as well as take advantage of the gorgeous morning feeling that only a kibbutz by the sea can conjure up. Revi has come in (I love her; she is one of the people with whom I became good friends while working on the kibbutz).

7:25 (I always try to nab us an extra five minutes on our thirty minute break) and off we go to breakfast. Two slices of bread, one halva spread, a bowl of porridge and a “latte” from the machine (sometimes pancakes, sometimes French toast, on Thursdays an omelet). I love Israeli food, but I could only bring myself to eat vegetables in the morning during my last few months on the kibbutz. Although to this day I still don’t know how people can eat raw onions at 7am…

My breakfast goes down in less than 15 minutes, giving me the chance to do the most important: smoke 2 cigarettes with my coffee outside on the little wall.

8am: my turn to clean tables while Isabel finishes the vegetables for the next day. The Dining Room is full, all the volunteers except for Isabel, me and the two dishwashers (one being Michal, whose regular job was dishwashing) eating at “our” table, the factory workers at their usual tables, school kids, kibbutzniks, everyone chattering away, while I clean up table after table, giving the coffee and the dishwashing areas an occasional wipe, chatting to people here and there, taking a cigarette break by the dishwasher from time to time. At around 9:15 am the place starts to empty and I start to sweep excess crumbs up from around the tables, waiting for those last people to leave (and they are always the same people!). Then comes the best part of the morning: I grab a bucket of soap and splash it over “my” part of the floor, hose it down, scrub it with a brush, bring all of the water into the drain and “dry” it with a big cloth. And unless I want to hear Vova yelling at me in Russian, I had better not forget to clean the drain! There is something so cathartic about throwing buckets of water on the ground and scrubbing things clean.

Isabel is cleaning and filling the oils and then off we go on our break. It’s sunny today but not too warm. I run to the computer, check my mail then go to my room, make my bed and listen to Galgalats for a while.

10:40am- time to walk back up there, cigarette in mouth, fast stride right back up to the Dining Room. Cigarettes, lighter and keys are left on the shelf by the dishwasher and one of us goes to get a trolley from behind the kitchen while the other peers at the food on our “vegetarian” cart. The usual diet chicken and diet meatballs, most of which disappear directly into the Tupperware containers brought in by Esther for the Vaticon and by the kindergarden teachers; and then some sort of quiche, and (thank goodness no falafel or pizza today- it’s crazy when we have to serve either one of those!) and mushrooms covered in cream sauce. Isabel brings clean plates to put on the trolley, a bucket of clean water and some clothes. I peer over to see what Marina is serving on the meat counter- chicken legs, goulash stuff and other dishes. Then I go round the other trolleys, diet vegetables, rice, pasta, the same selection of salads as there is every single day, and some kind of jelly-like thing for dessert. Right. Rice and carrots again for me today.

We stand and serve the early people together. Vova is sitting behind us reading the paper, Doron is hovering, checking the salads, and Revi is occasionally smiling across the food area to me from her place at the computer. At 11:30am Isabel takes off for her lunch break (tomato salad) and I serve the high school kids, replace what needs replacing and clean the food trolleys when needed.

Serving hummus on the "vegetarian" cart

“Vova, I love this song, turn it up!”

“Beseder. But promise me…”

“What? Oh no, I get it. No!”

“Just one kiss!”

“No!” (laughing).

At noon Isabel replaces me, I grab a tray and my food, my coffee coin and I go to Revi. Mustn’t forget my receipt- must watch that food account! However will I be able to put my friends’ food on my account if I get to 300 shekels at the end of the month? It’s funny how the meat-eaters always end up going over their limit before the 25th, while the vegetarians never do… I eat at the volunteer table, but in 15 minutes I’m done, get my coffee and drink it outside while smoking.

12:30pm. Isabel goes off to clean tables while I finish serving on the vegetarian trolley.

“Ma ze?”

“Pashteda pitriottes”

Surprisingly enough mushroom quiche doesn’t seem to entice many people. Not much of a steady flow today, so I chat to Vova and Doron. At 1pm Vova helps me take the hot trays out of the trolley (“they’re too hot and heavy for me Vova!”) and I push it back against the wall. Out comes the hose and I spray the trolley down, scrub it, rinse it and wipe it down, then clean up the excess water. I sneak off for a cigarette break by the dishwasher before attacking the big plastic things in the kitchen. Ofer smiles at me, and without me even having to ask he goes to get a big trolley and empties the plastic containers of the leftover trays of food. Yet again I pull out a hose and hose the things down, after pulling them around the drain. They are scrubbed, rinsed and put back into place again, ready for tomorrow’s food in the morning.

The Dining Room in Evron

Time for another cigarette break and a latte from the machine. I can’t help it if I finish fast! I nip into the Kolbolit to get my daily supply of chocolate (those “4Plays” are delicious, both the regular and the white chocolate ones). I replace Revi on the meat counter for 5 minutes while she goes to the loo (i.e. cigarette break) and serve some of the later high school kids.

“Ma ze?”

“Ze of, ze bacar”

“Anni lo rotsa.’

“Bevakasha!”

Isabel joins me for a cigarette by the dishwasher and then I start refilling and cleaning the coffee area for tomorrow. We are out of Nescafe and hot chocolate so I go and collect some more from the big storage room. All the Dining Room workers, except for Revi and Tuti, are just finishing their lunch breaks, so I chat to Tuti for a few minutes, finish cleaning the soda/water dispenser, fill the hot water tank and sweep round the coffee, and as nearly everyone has left the Dining Room I grab the bin bags, the dustpan and the brush and head outside to do zivouv. It takes me about 15 minutes to change the five bins and collect the cigarette butts, leaves and other garbage all round the Dining Room. When I get back inside it’s 2:20pm and Isabel is just finishing the tables, Doron and Vova have started cleaning the floor. We clear up our stuff, tell Vova we’re finished and he sends us off home. We’re lucky, but only because we work hard, because we never finish after 2:30pm (all of the other volunteers finish around 3pm).

After collecting out stuff, shouting goodbye to everyone and getting our sweaters we set off down to the Volunteer House, going into the Volunteer Office to say hi to Ina before plonking ourselves on the couch, taking our shoes off, putting on music, smoking a cigarette and waiting for the guys to get back.

One example of a regular days work in the Dining Room. I worked there regularly because I asked and was asked to. Most volunteers were rotated around the different jobs, but I liked the fact that I had a regular job; I was given my own responsibilities and daily chores. The atmosphere in the Dining Room was mostly one of fun; we always managed to have a laugh… Gossiping with Revi, running away from Sasha, laughing with Vova, chatting with the guys in the kitchen, pulling faces at Rami, chatting with Ronen. The work was not intellectually challenging, but I really enjoyed it, and my Hebrew went from non-existent to a lot better because I really tried. One day I will learn properly! It’s difficult to describe communal living to someone who has never experienced it before, as there are so many things that are part of the whole experience. It is not for everyone, but it was very good for me. To this day it was one of my favourite jobs and I would do it all over again in a flash if I could.

I smoked a lot of Noblesse Lights during my time in Israel if you hadn’t noticed after reading this.

Fiction: A Story of Oblivion

Ah, those years between 18 and 22 when you are supposed to be "sorting your life out"... When your emotions range from euphoric to despair in the space of minutes, even seconds. Another chapter from the book I never finished. Another excerpt can be found on the blog under the title Run, Run Away.

It’s too hard to get out of bed today. I know that the moment I step out from under the covers I am going to have to deal with life again, and I just wish, for one day, that I didn’t have to deal with it. Just one day, world, just one day of peace and quiet and silence. No classes, no work, no bars, no alcohol, no talks, no demands, no… No him. I mean that I need a day when he doesn’t pop into my head every two seconds and distracts me from life. A day away from life, where I can disappear for a time, be it into some oblivious sleep, some faraway country or just some dream world I concocted when I was a child.

I first learned what the word “oblivion” meant during my first week at the Lycee back in the 90’s. My English teacher had the words “oblivion” and its antonym (it could have been “consciousness” but I really can’t remember anymore) stuck up on one of his pin boards that were hanging on the wall. It attracted my attention, and when I finally had enough courage to ask him what it meant, I decided that it had to be used in my first book. I think I may have told my teacher that, and I hope that somewhere, somehow, he will see this and remember too, although he unfortunately isn’t here with us anymore. In any case, oblivion is one of my favourite words and also the word that will always be the best explanation of what we want to fall into during those times when we fall down, down, down.

 What is oblivion to you? To me it is just somewhere where none of all this that we have to live with and deal with every day exists, and where we don’t have to remember or listen to anything or anyone, and when we come back from it, well, we won’t even remember that it existed anyway. Kind of like the characters in an episode of Lost. You don’t remember the island or anything that happened on it once you are away from it. But once you are there you are away. Maybe I just have a rosy vision of what oblivion really means, maybe it means just gone away for good, unaware of anything, in a catatonic state? I prefer my view. Oblivion is a soft, down-filled bed that I can sink into, like a fluffy white cloud on a sunny day in spring.

Merriam-Webster defines oblivion as being one of the following: “the fact or condition of forgetting or having forgotten; especially : the condition of being oblivious” or “the condition or state of being forgotten or unknown”. I still prefer my definition, it’s just more… Poetic maybe? In any case, this week I just want a day of what I see as oblivion, and although I know that it won’t happen, it doesn’t hurt to dream.

Anyway, I just don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want to have to go on the tram and be squished up against some pervy man again like yesterday. I don’t want to have to have another attack of the low blood sugars in the middle of class, just because I couldn’t face breakfast again before I left the house. I don’t want to have to deal with all of the idiots who are still in my class because they haven’t dropped out yet, the ones who think they are just too cool. I don’t want one of my professors to yet again ask me what I think about such and such writer, just because they know I am the only one who will dare to say something at least meaningful, or at least thoughtful. Or maybe I just think my responses are meaningful, and they only ask me because I can be bothered to answer. I’m probably already taking myself too seriously, and I haven’t even left my bed yet. I suppose oblivion is not for today, yet again.

The phone is back on the hook again, with at least 5 messages from him. I can’t bear to be woken up by the sound of it ringing and ringing, all night long, with both of them telling me that I should be with them, that they miss me, singing me songs and telling me that I should be out on the town with them, getting drunk, laughing, hugging, kissing, talking to the late hours of the night about everything and nothing. We are not going to save the world, and the world is not going to save us, but we can still talk about the impending doom and the sunrises over the horizon, contemplating what life would be and what life could be and listening to our favourite voices push us on through the night towards a goal that still hasn’t been created in our minds.

I love these boys. I suppose I should really say men, because we are all adults now, but I can’t bring myself to. We are all still so naïve but bolshy at the same time, we know it all but haven’t built those walls of protection around ourselves to save ourselves from the pain that is obviously going to come hurtling down on us at some point. The other night we were all sitting around my make-shift coffee table, drinking Desperados out of cans, listening to Tom Waits on vinyl, smoking Gauloises Blondes and talking about Israel and the anti-Israel politics in France. Sometimes I feel like a few of us pretend to be right wing, but are really left-wing, and I live my life on my own political spectrum terms, which go from the far left to left of center, sometimes hopping over the border to dip my toes and always running back again to my safe haven. We are all so smart and full of ideas, but they always only end up being coffee table ideas, as no one really has the energy to really go for it. It’s come to a point though where I need to move along, make my own way. While I was sitting there mainly listening to them all talk I just realized that I needed more. Instead of talking I need to see, feel, hear, be there.  I can’t stay here like this, dreaming about being born in another century, or at least another year, pretending that everything is allright, that one day I will miraculously wake up somewhere else, somewhere better, in a different life, in a different place.  Back to that oblivion, maybe it’s time to make the oblivion I want a reality.

I listened to the 5 voicemails, all drunken laughter, songs, mainly Jacques Brel and Leonard Cohen, “we love you” and “wish you were here”. I know you wish I were there, but I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue to be in love with someone who is in love with someone else, it’s just not possible anymore. If I stick around long enough he will marry me, that’s what he has always said, but I know that I need to live a life for myself before I can accept that and even agree to that. Only because I know that I am the comfort zone, and the others are all the chase, the idea of something different. I don’t want to be someone’s comfort zone, I want to be someone’s muse, I want to inspire someone and to be inspired at the same time.

Hiding away in my apartment and just concentrating on my thesis, my classes, my books, my writing and my depression is my only way of letting go. Leaving the protection of my house is always a chore, that nervous bubble that grows in my stomach, then the building of those protective layers to stave away the pokes and the stabs that are surely going to come my way in the outside world. Eyes to the ground and book in hand I make my way to each destination as fast as possible, hide away in my tiny classes at university, sit in the library for hours taking notes and doing research, teaching my students in the different locations, shopping and then home, to the pure comfort of my bed. I love to have people over, and to cook for them, but I am really struggling with being sociable and happy in public right now. If I go out he will be there, we will drink and talk and kiss, and then I will go home and watch him walk away to the new girlfriend’s house, knowing full well that she is waiting for him there, and I am going home alone. So what if I have his mind and his sociable hours? She has his love and she has him in her bed at night. I am just not pretty enough for him, or just not young enough, or just not something enough, I don’t know. In any case, this is my way of letting go of him. It’s time to branch out, it’s also time to leave the protective group of all my male friends and find someone who will love me for who I want to be. Or something in that vein. In the meantime I need to stave off that feeling of worthlessness, and hide from wanting oblivion too much. Every day I battle these feelings and every day I feel like I fail a little bit more.

Once I finish this thesis it will all be over, unless I want to continue and study for a PhD, and I know now that it’s too early for that. So what next? Run away? Start a new life somewhere else? This world is so large and there are so many places I have to see, but I just don’t know how. Can I leave the comforts of today and go? Can I just pick up and see where the wind drops me? What about my family and friends and cat and belongings? Will I feel the same any place I go or will I feel like a different person? All of these questions keep going around and around in my head, and I can’t keep my brain quiet any longer. I just want to get out of all of this. I need to remove myself from the feeling that if I throw myself in front of a tram on the B line that it will be a quick end. Or take a lot of pills and just fall asleep. Or just never wake up one morning and it will all be over. No more pain or feelings or sadness or confusion or hurt or shyness. No more keeping my mouth shut to avoid confrontation, no more wondering what life would have been like if certain things hadn’t happened. No more missing a person who will never ever come back. And no more hating a person who I can’t fully hate, even if I have every right to. There are so many days that I just want it to end. Too early, too late, never the right time. I just want it to end.

But I know I could never do that, only because I know what the pain is to lose someone in that way and I don’t have the heart to put anyone else through that. No one deserves that, however bad it may be, it could be worse, right? I’m sure there is an answer for me, and I am determined to find it.

Oblivion can wait another day.

Ramblings: Words from a journal in Barcelona

I found these entries in one of my journals just after I wrote my Barcelona blog post last week. They transported me right back there, sunny, hazy days full of decisions and thoughts. I do love reading back and remembering the person I was then and how she hasn’t changed all that much.

Friday 24th July 2009

Barcelona…

You smell like Europe. You feel like Europe. You act like Europe. You are Europe. The Europe I know so well but you just speak a different language, one that I understand a little. If I shut off my hearing you could be France. Home? Dirty, humid, hot, old, colourful, voices, noisy, awake, asleep, bare feet, balconies, ice cream, terrasses, stars, warm breeze, fountains, cathedrals, peace, hills, espresso, winding streets in the city, mountains.

I can see the big star, my star, my planet, my Venus, watching over me. Always there, waiting for me to look up and smile. I can breathe again. This is so wonderful, I don’t know how it all got lost, I can’t believe it all just came back to me. My Europe, sanctuary, push you away, stay away, leave you, use you, love you, hate you, make you the basis of my nostalgia and my pain, but you save me once again.

I just needed a breath of yours to be revived from this plateau I have been hiding behind. You will always be part of me and I need to start remembering that. Oh! I finally feel again. Emotion, love, hatred, pain, joy, warmth, cold, hot, heat, wet, dry, elation, despair. I want to climb to the rooftop and watch my star watch me.

I won’t break again. I am whole again. Thank you.

Saturday 25th July 2009

There is something really lovely about walking around an unknown city all by yourself. I am literally wandering with no real direction. What is it that paralyzes me? It’s like a took a few steps back, back into that zone of anxiety that I thought I had left behind when I got off the plane in Tel Aviv.

This morning was lovely. I walked all around Barri Gòtic and El Raval taking random pictures. I lit a candle for Daddy in a church as I always do in every city I go to.

Tuesday 28th July 2009 On the balcony

Yes. THE balcony. I think it’s my favourite place here. I have been working SO much it’s not even funny. I can’t even focus on what is the most urgent because everything is. I really, really want to go home. I never wanted this to be my life. I feel trapped in something I never ever wanted. I wish I could drink now too. Drink myself into an oblivion of NOTHING.

I wonder if I will move back to Europe.

Wednesday 29th July 2009

HALF MOON HALF SUN.

I see her straight in front of me, half smile, eyes cast straight ahead, no haste, no speed, rambling with precise direction. Never stalling but always there. I see her watching me as I watch her, watching me when I lose my way. Picking me up with her eyes and pointing me towards the next hill to climb, sea to swim, bridge to build. I love her with all my emotions but she always remains too far to touch, to access, to curl up with. My protectoress, my savior, my guide forever up there looking down, looking down, looking down.

My moon.

Thursday 30th July 2009

She’s in the same place as last night,

Even brighter.

Time for me to go, to say goodbye

Yet another place to be nostalgic about

Yet another moment to stow away,

To remember next year and the one after.

Beautiful statues, I hope you see them too.

I probably won’t ever sit here again

But I will keep this spot in my memory,

The place where I was inspired

To wake up and feel again.

Hope, freedom, love, pain, angst

Tears, laughter, worry, happiness

Time to cry, time to laugh

Thank you special place

I will see you again in a different time.

Ramblings: Aurora Vivienne's Sixth Month

This month's photo album is HERE.

What a month! Full of changes for all of us and a lot of growth for Aurora. Whether it be due to the new environment or just a natural growth spurt we will never know, but this little monkey came very far in just a few short weeks! Aurora turned 5 months on the same day that the movers took our belongings from our apartment in Flushing, and to be honest it feels like a decade ago. So many things have happened since then, and I really hope that I remember them all. I should start jotting down phrases here and there throughout the month, just so that I don’t forget, because I really feel like the weeks are running away from me!

Aurora had her first plane ride at 5 months, a direct flight from NYC to Sacramento, and was such a good flyer. She barely made a sound, slept a lot of the time and didn’t even seem to suffer from achy ears during take-off and landing. She also didn’t seem too affected by the change in location or climate, a lot less than Luna was anyway, but I’m not sure if that’s because she is so small or just if she is a lot more easygoing and adaptable. We are all pretty adaptable beings anyway, so I suppose that she gets that from her parents and grandparents!

Aurora has always been very long, and also pretty much within the higher percentiles in weight, but she seems to have really chunked up this past month. Huge, gorgeous chunky thighs and big, kissable cheeks, those little rolls that you never want to see disappear but eventually do. We won’t be going to her 6 month well-check until next week (moving to another state means new insurance plans and new doctors all over again, but I have to say, California makes everything a lot easier than New York did), so I won’t know her measurements until then, but from my own calculations and scales here she’s about 20lbs. This means that she’s only a couple of pounds lighter than her sister now! My arms are definitely getting a work-out between the two of them! By weighing Aurora I also ended up weigh myself and realised that I had lost 10lbs in 3 weeks without even doing anything. I suppose the excess pregnancy weight is finally coming off, and just being in California is helping me be more active and healthy. I’m really thankful for this, for while I was never really fat to begin with, it was actually getting me down. I didn’t want to be in any photos or videos and didn’t even feel like any of my clothes looked good anymore. So all that to say that I’m feeling a lot happier about myself now. Ten more to go and we can have another baby! (I’m kidding, not just yet).

I think I said last month that Aurora had been rolling from back to tummy for a while, but still refused to roll from tummy to back. Well she showed me a few times that she is more than capable of doing it, but that she’s not too interested in it. Instead she is practicing her push ups and worm wiggle, and all of a sudden wants to be standing, even though she can’t actually stand. I suppose she wants to be able to do what her sister is doing… Saying that reminds me that her and Luna have been interacting a lot more these past few weeks, and actually even playing together slightly. By that I mean that Luna will shake a toy above her for a few minutes, grab her and cuddle her and yell NO!! if Aurora dares come near any of her toys. But Aurora is beginning to understand how to do the sneaky worm-roll movement and will manage to whisk away a little toy when her sister is too occupied by asking for “dootie” (boob) or demanding PEPPA snort snort. And while both Cesar and I get huge, beautiful smiles from her, her main focus is usually on her sister, on what her sister is doing and on how to get her sister’s attention. They will be close friends in no time, as long as Aurora doesn’t take her sister’s toys away too often!

It always surprises me when I see my now 6 month old wearing clothes that Luna wore when she was 12 and 18 months old. I’m sure there will be less growth spurts now and a focus on different developmental activities, like crawling which will happen sooner rather than later, sitting, and talking. Aurora can now sit unassisted for up to a minute but isn’t ready to get up by herself just yet. And she has definitely found her voice; she actually loves to “shout” dadadadadadada and mamamamama! She also loves to “squawk” really loudly, I actually have compared the sound to that a crow makes. It’s really cute and gets louder and louder with excitement! She’s getting used to being in the car on a regular basis nowadays – at first she cried a lot, but now she seems to settle down a little faster and often falls asleep which is great for nap times. We haven’t been able to get back into a good nap routine yet, and every time I manage to get Aurora to sleep Luna wakes her up, so I really must work on that. I suppose crib training is going to have to happen and I’m really not looking forward to it. Or we just stick it out until Aurora is 1 and then move both kids to their own bed, together. I feel like that is what is going to end up happening anyway. I don’t have the heart to do any kind of sleep training. I mean it demands consistency and too many tears! And I know I repeat myself but there is something so special about sleeping next to your child(ren), waking up to their smiles and cuddles (and kicks and slaps to the face). Maybe the next one will go straight to the crib from birth?!

We haven’t started on solids yet, but I suppose we will get started on that in the next week or so, avocado, fruit, vegetables, one by one, a mix of purees and Baby Led Weaning, hopefully it will incite Luna to eat more again too. What I’ve learnt is that you can try to instill healthy eating habits as much as possible, but sometimes your child will only ingest Goldfish and scrambled egg all day, and that’s OK. But again, I’m reluctant to start on solids, just because exclusively breastfeeding is so easy and convenient and clean and just really EASY. Not that I’m being lazy or anything here :D. And those teeth are all on their way too, not out yet, but lurking there just under the surface, waiting for the right moment. I do dislike the whole teething process (who does?!), but I hope it happens all in one go like it did for Luna. Made life a lot easier for everyone!

And so there we are… 6 months ago I was holding this little newborn baby in my arms, high on oxytocin and love, and now we are across the country and that little newborn baby is nearly the same size as her bigger sister. Time does fly and I have to tell myself time and time again that these moments are so short, so sweet and I wish I could just bottle them up forever, just so that I can go back to them and live them again and again.

Ramblings: Falling in love with Barcelona

There have been many places that I have dreamt of visiting, places that I have researched and put on my travel wish list and places that I have never really had any interest in visiting but ended up in anyway, and there are those places that I didn’t really think of and that blew me away the moment I arrived. Barcelona is one of the latter, such a special city located in a gorgeous part of the European continent, a little island to itself in the north of Spain. I haven’t been anywhere else in Spain, so I cannot compare it to Madrid or Seville or another city, but Barcelona definitely seems to have a heart and soul of its own, beating to its own rhythm in the heart of Catalonia.

I’ve been to Barcelona twice, both times thanks to a previous job that I had. The first time I was only there for a few days and didn’t really get to see much apart from the office, a few restaurants and bars and the hotel. The second time I was there for 2 whole weeks and stayed in an apartment about 10 minutes from the beach (on foot). What a difference it made! While I spent a lot of time working in the company’s Barcelona office during those two weeks I also had time to discover the city. I’m by nature shy, part loner and part extrovert, and I have no problem doing things alone, even exploring a city whose language I don’t really speak very well at all. While I had no issues butchering Hebrew when I lived in Israel, I still understand spoken Dutch when I concentrate, and I still have no problems switching between English and French without a thought, the one language I actually spent time learning at school, Spanish, has never come naturally. I suppose I feel like I should actually really speak it by now, but don’t and I feel embarrassed. During both of my stays in Spain my interactions with the “locals” was really kept to a bare minimum due to my inability to just try in case I sounded stupid and my fear of being really annoying by asking people if they spoke English. I’m glad that I made friends with some of my colleagues who showed me the best places to eat lunch, and took me out a few times at night. I did spend a lot of time alone, exploring, and I thoroughly enjoyed it!

The second time I was in Barcelona I was sober and therefore not too interested in the nightlife, which, from the little I did experience, is quite amazing. Walking through the cobbled streets at night reminded me of France: laughter coming from bars, different styles of music pumping from each side of the street, cafés open until the early hours and groups of friends hanging out on steps, chatting the night away. I assume that southern France and northern Spain are quite similar in several aspects, as this wasn’t the first time that I was drowned in a mix of homesickness and nostalgia for the country that I still call home.

My company’s office was located right by the Plaça de Catalunya with its beautiful statues and fountains. The apartment I was staying in was in the Sant Marti area, and while there was a metro station nearby both locations I preferred the 30 minute walk in the mornings and evenings, walking under the Arc de Triomf every day and enjoying the warm air, the city smells and the people watching that I could do along the way. The soundtrack to those days was a lot of BRMC, Psychedelic Furs, and mainly the White Stripes, and a lot of dreams about moving back to Europe and picking a slower paced and less stressful life back up there. Whenever I hear a White Stripes song I am still transported right back there, the early morning mist, a certain sense of grandeur and freedom. I wrote a lot during those two weeks, sitting on the balcony in the apartment, watching the full moon rise and listening to the sounds of the night, smoking cigarettes and writing poetry. At the time I felt that Barcelona helped me figure out a lot of little knots that had made their way along my path. Now I feel that it was a combination of being somewhere that was foreign but familiar as well as being really alone for a few weeks. I think I will always maintain a quasi spiritual relationship with my memories of Barcelona.

I love good food, like anyone, but I’m not a foodie. I could live on pasta and olive oil for a week without any issues. I like simple things, but if you cook an extravagant meal for me I will most likely rave about it for weeks (as long as it’s vegetarian and corresponds to my annoying and picky texture eating tastes). I had no issues with the food in Barcelona, it was easy to order, there was a lot to choose from even for vegetarians and most food I ate was delightfully fresh and well prepared, and super cheap. I LOVE tapas, always have, and love how they make eating out super easy and fun. And Spanish tortilla is just fabulous – who doesn’t love eggs and potatoes anyway?! I think my favourite meal of both trips was lunch in a simple restaurant not far from the Plaça de Catalunya, tucked away in a side street, 3 courses for less than 10 Euro, plat du jour (or Spanish equivalent) that contained a vegetarian option for each course, fresh juices and delicious desserts. It reminded me of how important it is to take time for each meal, relax and enjoy the food and company. I was really happy to find a Lidl on my walk home, so that covered breakfast and dinners and I found a sandwich shop where I was able to order a delicious brie on baguette sandwich in a mix of English and Spanish. Living in NYC, and now northern California, for so long, I have always missed grabbing a “café en terrasse”, a perfectly made espresso, and sitting out on the street, watching the world go by. On my first day off that is exactly what I did, on the way up to the Park Güell, ordered a café, a croissant and sat at a table, contemplating life and my life.

I really didn’t do much research on Barcelona before I went (something I often lack doing with any kind of travel, making for some missed occasions but mainly some amazing discoveries), but discovered the beauty of Gaudí’s work after randomly walking past the Casa Batlló. Gaudí’s architectural designs and artwork maybe classified as Catalan Modernism, or art nouveau, but for me they depict the existence of another world that we can’t see, full of fairies and butterflies and beauty. His creations are scattered all over Barcelona, but if you don’t have enough time to track them all down, then a visit to the Park Güell is a must. I spent a few hours wandering through the park, marveling at the colours, turrets, twists and turns and imagining all kinds of stories and fairytales in my head. Located on a hill, you get a great view of Barcelona and the sea, and while it can get pretty packed with tourists, I am really glad I made time to visit it. It reminded me that everything is possible in this world, and that we all have something to give, and leave behind, be it physical, fluid or a formless legacy. La Sagrada Familia church also provided me with breathtaking inspiration and emotions, in a way that only an amazingly designed religious edifice can (and I am in no way religious in any form). I lit a candle there for my father as I do in most places that I visit.

I also spent a lot of time wandering through the Gothic Quarter, getting lost and going round and round in circles. Walking through the small, cobblestone streets, surrounded by looming old buildings. Shops and bars, art galleries and restaurants populate the busy little streets and it was lovely strolling through them, backing up and laughing at my inability to find where I had started from. I walked around the area both in the daytime and at night and ended up using the GPS on my phone a couple of times (I had a humungous phone bill on my return!) – but that was only because I was too shy and embarrassed to ask for directions. Silly, I know. There is something quite satisfying though, about walking both aimlessly but with aim along unknown streets, watching people go by and making up stories about their lives and their day, admiring balconies with blooming flowers and growing herbs and imagining life in one of those apartments. There were so many moments during those two weeks in Barcelona that I contemplated moving there and creating a new life for myself amidst those streets. Changing my name, running away and being someone and somewhere different. Barcelona had a real effect on me, and while it took a few more years after my return to make some real changes, it did help me put a lot of things into perspective. I think spending time alone in a new city does help promote a certain kind of self-reflection.

I love the beach and there was no way I was going to miss going to the beach in Barcelona. After being conditioned to NYC and Long Island beaches for a few years I forgot how the atmosphere is different on Mediterranean beaches. I walked to the Bogatell beach as it was the closest to the apartment and found a spot by myself between the water and the beach volleyball area, and set myself up for a few peaceful hours of music, sunbathing and swimming. I’m not keen on swimming over waves, so I was really looking forward to swimming in the calm Med, but it was actually pretty choppy that day! After my initial surprise it was lovely to feel the warm water over my skin, and to swim out a little and look at the beach from the water. On my next beach trip the water was as calm and peaceful as I remembered it from my days in Israel, and I spent a lot of time in swimming around. I was kind of taken aback when people came up and talked to me on the beach though (hence my US beach remark because everyone really leaves you alone there), and felt a little uncomfortable at times. In my opinion it’s better to go in a group or at least as two, but that’s just me. Oh, and I remember worrying about a beach volleyball landing on my head, and then one actually landed super hard on a sunbathing woman’s stomach so I ended up moving away from the beach games. The walk along the boardwalk up to Barceloneta beach is quite lovely, especially if you can grab a sunset en route. There really is nothing like a sunset on the beach, always breathtaking, one of those consistent acts of nature that never lets you down and makes you feel so tiny and so important all at once. All in all the beaches are city beaches and if they are lacking in beauty and cleanliness they make up for it in pure convenience and entertainment. Living within walking distance of a beach, whether on the sea or ocean, east or west, has been a lifelong dream of mine. One day we will make it happen.

I started writing this wondering if I would remember more than that feeling of never wanting to leave and I have surprised myself by digging up all the love I felt for Barcelona while I stayed there. I love how warm and welcoming the city is, how calm and energetic, how she continues to embrace her language and culture, while accepting everyone with ease. Merci, Barcelona – I hope to be back one day to search for more Gaudí, take more and better photos, and to eat your delicious food. Some days I feel like I am moving further and further from the places that actually feel like home.

A collection of (awful) Blackberry and (OK) digital camera photos can be found HERE.

After I finished writing this piece I dug out my journal from the late 2000’s from one of our boxes and realised that the Barcelona I documented on paper is the exact one that I remember. I will post the entries in a separate post this week).

Review: Art Hotel 916

When my sister mentioned her trip to something called the “Art Hotel” last week and sent me some pictures – I knew immediately that it would be something I absolutely needed to see. A building full of art from bottom to top?! Amazing! It really was amazing, and I feel like I was actually lucky to see it in person. The idea was to take a building scheduled to be demolished (in this case the Jade apartment building in downtown Sacramento) and for different artists to transform the insides into a literal art house over the space of a month. The temporary exhibition was only open for a week, from February 5th to the 13th, and we went on the very last day. All of the ticket timeslots were sold out when we got there, but thanks to my mother we were able to get in for a 15 minute visit. I had Aurora strapped in the Ergo so she also got to see some of the amazing artwork, although I doubt she will ever remember!

The concept really is incredible. I don’t really know the history of the building and the hotel next door, but from what I have heard they weren’t in the best part of town (although to be honest I wouldn’t have had any idea, coming from a decade in NYC many places you walk down don’t seem to be the most salubrious but that doesn’t really mean anything). In any case 14 artists from all over the world got together and transformed the entire insides of the building into multiple pieces of art: full apartments, rooms, kitchens, bathrooms, windows, halls, staircases, you name it, everything was decorated, painted, and used as part of a prop to capture the visions of each artist. Beauty, nostalgia, love, hate, blood, fear, angst, humour, dirt, purity, horror, smiles, death, life – all separate concepts and emotions that seemed to come together quite seamlessly. I loved walking through the building, feasting my eyes on each room, hallway and staircase. I love how the entire concept displayed how art really is universal and dynamic, a beautiful mix of talent, space, vision, tools and timing. Art cannot be explained or neatly fitted into a box; it is at times stunning, beautiful, grotesque and outright weird, altogether or separately.

I’d love to see some more of these temporary exhibitions and check out more of the different artists’ work. I’ve posted some photos of what really stood out to me below, and you can find out more information on the individual artists on the M5 Arts website and on the Art Hotel 916 Facebook page. My cameras are unfortunately still stuck on our moving truck somewhere halfway across the country so iPhone photos are all I have (and this is only a small sample of everything that I took during my visit). But you can check my mother’s much better images on her blog. Really excited about seeing what other cool and inspiring events Sacramento has to offer!

Ramblings: Aurora Vivienne's Fifth Month

This month's Flickr album is HERE.

Aurora turned 5 months old on the very day that the movers came to pack our belongings into a truck (that still hasn’t arrived) and the few weeks before that were quite the whirlwind. The past two weeks have been full of head colds and getting used to being in California, and I completely forgot that I hadn’t posted an update for Aurora’s fifth month! Luckily I uploaded lots of photos into the album over the month so I only have to sort and upload to Flickr before I can post this very belated post!

It looks like Aurora is following Luna’s teething schedule by teething in fours and pretty early on – I can see at least 4 teeth ready to pop out within the next few weeks or so and while her good natured character is still mostly prevalent she doesn’t hesitate to show her discomfort! (I’m actually typing this standing up while carrying her in the Ergo, my beautiful everyday lifesaver). Every day I look at her and wonder how five months flew by so fast. Where is my long, skinny and jaundiced baby who would practically sleep through the night back in September of last year? How did she become this big, bouncy, beautiful smiling little chunk in such a short space of time? I don’t know how much she now weighs (although I may do the whole weighing her with me thing later), but she now wears 12-18 month sizes, 18 month in pants. I think she’s due another growth spurt in a few weeks when she turns 6 months so I don’t even know what to think now!

Her sleeping patterns started to return back to normal again about halfway through the month, with a longer stretch in the beginning of the night, one waking and then the rest of the night curled up next to me. But all that changed when we started getting ready to move, and then our move here. I really, really want to get her used to sleeping in a crib, but I think we failed there again and now have 2 kids in the bed with us (and the song “roll over, roll over” just started resonating in my head). Hopefully we can figure it all out once we are more settled! Or maybe Aurora and Luna can just sleep together in their own room? That would be quite the accomplishment! And for those who have said that if you put babies in their crib they will sleep in their crib probably never had a child who would cry until she vomited unless she was stuck to my side. Or maybe I’m just too soft-hearted and a pushover. I don’t know, but I gave up worrying about it a long time ago. A few years of cuddles is so short and will be sorely missed once they are over!

While Aurora still refuses to roll from tummy to back, only from back to tummy, she has not only great hand to object to mouth coordination, she has also found her feet and loves to pull her socks off one by one. She will spend time playing with her toys on the floor, until she gets grumpy and wants to be cuddled. She definitely is more interested in sitting up and seeing the world, and while she loves being in the Ergo, she gets annoyed with it after a while and likes a change of scenery – she will probably be more willing to try the back carry than Luna was. I do think she’s just taking things a little more easy than Luna did, but so am I so I suppose we are on the same wavelength really! I love watching her pull up on her arms and reach for a toy that I have placed strategically near here, and seeing her content face once she obtains her target and shoves it in her mouth. She does this adorable little wiggly worm thing and tries to advance on her tummy, but she hasn’t seemed to make much headway yet. I’m sure she will be inching forward in no time though! I love watching her inspect her toys and pass them from one hand to another and then throwing them down when she gets “bored” of them!

Her good-natured disposition is such a joy to be around! The near constant smiles and giggles and laughter at everything, including herself. Blowing bubbles and raspberries and shrieking with peals of laughter at a silly face her sister is pulling. The obvious adoration that she has for Luna seems to grow weekly (and so does my secret hope that they will be best friends forever and always want to play with each other and keep each other entertained). I’m so looking forward to the days that I can let them play out in the garden for hours, just like my sister and I did, coming in for dinner all grimy and happy and out of breath. In the meantime watching them start to interact, and seeing Luna more and more accepting of the fact that she isn’t an only child anymore makes me happy.

We had a great adventure during the month when both kids became little models for our friends’ store, Grit n Glory (which also happens to be our favorite store ever). Aurora was the perfect model, smiling and happy and dealt fantastically with the bright lights and flashes. You can see her modeling the cutest onesies on the website here. We also made it into Manhattan twice in the freezing cold before we left NYC, just to eat at Meatball Shop and Sugar and show the kids where their parents met on Orchard St (although what was there is sadly a huge gaping hole right now). Aurora is so easy on trips on the train and in restaurants, and so much easier to nurse in public than Luna was (and still is). Or that may just be me not caring about being seen anymore too – makes for a less stressful experience all around I think! Which reminds me that I have been thinking about doing the breastfeeding counselor training for a while now and I should probably start on it and get it done before we have another (IF we have another). I will write more on that in another post!

As we head through the sixth month now I have to start preparing myself for the fact that it will be time to introduce solids, time for Aurora to become more mobile and more independent, a time that is a little bittersweet because you never get those short baby months back again. And while every day that we have is a real blessing, I never ever want t forget those first snuggles, those first cries and those first smiles. 

Ramblings: California, here we are!

We have arrived! After a few weeks of stress, packing, working through a list of endless tasks that needed to be accomplished before we left, planning without really having a plan, we have made our way to California. And while that part seemed hard, the hardest part really starts now with job hunting and house hunting and getting settled in an area that couldn’t be more different to NYC. Neither of us have a license, and I’ve actually never learnt how to drive so that’s going to be a major task that needs to be accomplished. I have already taught myself how to install a car seat properly, both rear facing and forward facing, so I’m kind of a little proud of that! I have to admit that I’m actually a little scared of driving and even more so of driving with the girls in the car, but that is a fear that I am going to have to get over because otherwise we will be stuck at home for forever. Luna loves car rides now and Aurora hates them, just like Luna did at her age. Hopefully she will grow out of that soon enough.

I think we were all a little shell shocked when we arrived last Sunday. We spent two nights in a hotel on the Lower East Side and tried to see people and places as well as rest all at the same time and it ended up being extremely chaotic and tiring and a huge upheaval for the girls. I’m sure the owners of Dorian Gray will be adding a sign stating “no children allowed” after our few hours there last Saturday as we managed to turn the place into a kid’s play area and breastfeeding station. Thank you to everyone who came out to see us and to those who contacted us – I’m sorry if I couldn’t chat for long or was a little unresponsive, but I really, really appreciate all of your messages and words! I had told myself that I had really detached myself from the city already, but that wasn’t really true. I think I will always love NYC and will always consider her home. Sometimes you just need to make choices that help you move onwards and upwards and I think this was one of them.

We boarded our flight at 8:30pm, and luckily JetBlue have direct flights from NYC to Sacramento. There is however a federal law that doesn’t allow more than one child under two in one seat section, due to there not being enough oxygen in case of an emergency. So we were seated on the same row, but with the aisle in between us. As the flight wasn’t too packed we ended up having 6 seats to ourselves which sounds awesome, but when you have one toddler who only wants to nurse and an infant who had to nurse on take-off we really needed to be next to each other. Luna was OK while we were taxiing to take-off but that took forever and the moment we actually took off she started to scream and fight Cesar… I could already hear all of the poor passengers’ thoughts, but luckily one of the flight attendants came over and allowed us to switch kids mid take off. After that Cesar moved over with Aurora and the rest of the flight was completely uneventful. Luna actually slept longer than she usually does without waking and Aurora wasn’t fussy at all. We were absolutely exhausted though, and it’s not something that I would do often. Traveling with one now seems like a piece of cake, two is OK if there are two adults, and I really don’t know how people travel alone with two tiny kids!

Of course, as soon as we arrived I got a horrid cold that has made me feel like a zombie for the past 5 days. Then Luna got it and now Aurora seems to be a little under the weather. And for the first few days the weather wasn’t too good, but now winter has said goodbye to California and spring has come in with a blast! This is the California that I’ve always considered “my” California: bright sunshine warm and then hot on my skin, palm trees in gardens and streets, blue, blue skies and the smell of warmth and fresh soil, and occasionally skunk. I can’t wait for the trees to blossom and the oleander to flower and for the ground to feel warm on my feet. I can’t wait for us to settle, find jobs and eventually have our own little house with a yard. We have so many dreams and it’s going to be exciting to make them all become reality, one by one.

My mother’s new house is beautiful. She’s only been here for three weeks now but she has managed to make it feel like a home already. Joey has met his new friend Muffin and I think he is trying to befriend her, but Muffin isn’t having any of it right now! She’s just a grumpy old lady anyway and he seems to have realised that it’s best to just leave her alone and maybe she will come around at some point. In any case he has settled in like the cat king he is. He may even get to venture outside at some point, we will see how I feel about that when we have settled into our own place. My sister’s home is also gorgeous and it makes me so happy to see her all settled in her own cozy place. Both Cesar and I love her neighbourhood – it’s quiet but still walking distance from shops and restaurants, and very close to the downtown area where Cesar will most likely be working. Houses are a little more expensive there, but I suppose we would be saving in gas and would only need one car there, so that’s good. At the same time there are not that many rentals going. So we will see! Not going to get ahead of myself yet! But I would really, really love to live within walking distance of amenities.

The girls are settling in more or less, as I expected Luna is having a harder time than Aurora but she is getting there. She has already learnt how to unlock and open all of the doors in the house, find her way to me from our room, and she has the most gorgeous play room to play in with tons of toys. Now if she would just start talking to me again instead of saying “eh eh eh” that would be great!  Sometimes it feels like every time we make a little progress we do something that causes a regression. All I can really do is continue to provide her whatever comfort she needs so that she feels ready to communicate via all of the words that she understands and can say. It didn’t really help much that she has had this awful cold too and barely wants to eat any food and wants to nurse around the clock. We will get there; it’s just a matter of patience and perseverance.

I’m going to finish off now and try to post this today. I need to get back into writing every day again – the past three weeks have been an insane whirlwind of tasks and packing and arriving and settling in, and I need to find my own routine and gather up my inspiration again. I have a long list of travel posts to write as well as a few ramblings and as soon as our belongings arrive I will be able to start on some photography posts again too. Nothing like a few palm trees and early spring blossom to inspire one to document in photos!