Archive | November, 2011

a beginning, a middle and an end.

25 Nov

i have been putting off this post for weeks.

instead, i’ve been rightly filling my time chasing the mouse-maybe-rat (thanks for nothing, 120 year old house), consuming oaked white wines and nourishing my deeply committed relationship with cheese.

and while i’d like to think of myself as almost a seasoned professional in my procrastination abilities, the time has come to face the inevitable. to walk the metaphorical plank, so to speak, to put my head on the guillotine whilst violently screaming: “vive la france!”

no? too far? anyway, point is – i need to wrap this shit up. and well, kittens, it’s been a real ride, hasn’t it?

like most things i do, you may recall that i was wildly unprepared to write this blog linked to my rando move to india.  in the beginning, i knew that i didn’t want to write about, like, all the creepy-ass goats i was seeing on the street and so on, highlighting 24/7 how completely different life was in calcutta. i mean – it’s a scooch implied that life is different in india – it’s f*&king india.

so i quickly realized that the best way to your wonderfully weird little hearts was by telling you some of my best secrets, trash talking the laundry list of jerks i’ve known in my 28 years and enlightening you on exactly how two bone fide crazy newlyweds make it through their first year of marriage -while 12,952 km apart.

and so it was: one long, swear-word encrusted (bedazzled, really) teenage telephone conversation – that sometimes referred to india.

but by the middle of it all, finally finding my voice simply wasn’t enough – it had turned out that randomly moving to india wasn’t so easy afterall. work became difficult, the thrill of living in the country of dust-turned-mud-turned-dust-again and spice had quickly worn off. basically, it blew. hardcore.

and frankly it was you, kind readers, who came to the rescue in so many ways. your mostly-insane comments, your revelations of devotion to this humble teenaged telephone conversation of a blog, your personal messages and – in some cases – your packages filled with booty (pirate, not ass – here and here too!) helped me get over my self-imposed exile.

(and let’s be honest here, the americans filled in the rest of the blanks with their exceptional taste in imported wine, unwavering devotion to western tv shows and propensity for hosting mexcian-themed murder mysteries. ole indeed, bitches.)

then just as quickly as i began this craziness, got over the fact that india – yes, all 1.2 billion of it – was a jerk, things were over. because for the many oh-so-complicated reasons, i left my work early for the homeland where the nachos are free range and the sewers are closed.

but doing as i have done leaves you different. even now – and probs for a while to come –  i am struggling to figure out what it all meant. working to convince myself that it’s ok to let this experience change me – even if it’s maybe not for the best.

this has been our journey together. and this is where it ends – for now.

listen, you don’t realize it, but you owe me. i’ve rarely preached to you about crap like “politics” and the “economic crisis” etc and so on. i’ve kept it to the interesting stuff  – like how i ditched my now husband while dressed like a pirate-hooker . the truly important discussions, ya know?

so now, you must listen to me as i take my moment to preach atop the metaphorical soapbox.

whoever, wherever and whatever you are – i am telling you that we are all able to do almost anything we want in this life. the path that is defined for us – whatever that path looks like in your world – isn’t always the way we have to play it.

it’s totes ok to take b.f.r’s (big f&*king risks) because not only do they give you mad street cred (“well when i was living in calcutta…” = kind of bad ass) but they are often the ones that are the most worthwhile. remember i told you once that nothing worth fighting for is ever easy? well it’s true.

i leave you with this: sometimes when it’s a bajillion degrees celcius during a 2 hour black out and you’ve just frantically stepped in a sewer that reaches your almost-knee-cap, whilst skinning your arm trying to protect your face from the garbage which you will surely fall into because of the whole leg-in-sewer thang, you enjoy a good old fashioned motivational quote.

this is the one that i repeated to myself that night, covered in shit, while being laughed at by probably 50 + indians:  “at any given moment you have the power to say ‘this is not how the story is going to end’.” and that’s a fact.

fact.

thank you, everyone. for everything.

xo al

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the trouble with al.

9 Nov

the last few weeks in india were some of the best, as it often goes when one chapter of your life comes to a quick and dirty close. the americans said: “al,  you are going out with a bang!”

so, there was copious amounts of shopping, chilled chardy (champers, pinot and sauv blanc oh my!), high heeled shoes at inappropriate times, tacky 90’s tv, un-inhibited dancing in public places, street food and other such poor life choices that may or may not have involved flavoured vodka. and tequilla. and whiskey.

whiskey? sweet baby jesus. well, there you have it folks….bang.

and the funny thing about all of this coming-to-a-close stuff, is that when things have finally closed, you remember these ‘bang up’ times and not the times you were walking around with shit on your foot from stepping in a sewer during a black out.

fact.

so, as much as i didn’t think it would happen, i am sitting here today watching the last few leaves fall from the trees outside, and wishing i could get a nice moist hug from calcutta’s unreasonably hot-air climate.

you know, the climate that i bitched about for 7 months. yep, that one.

nostalgia aside, india feels like a dream now that i’m back to everything oh-so-familiar. and besides trying to figure out how to process my experiences for a canadian context, i can’t help but continually think “heyyyyyyyy, so what’s next?”

and really, i  have no f*&king idea. which is not a great thing, let’s be real with each other here.

(no idea, that is, unless we’re talking short term. because i can pretty much guarantee you of a few things i will be enjoying later…things which i figure that after several months together you can probs fill in the ‘ol blanks about.)

the way forward.

anyway,  i do know, that nothing seems quite as valuable or interesting as what i was doing just last week. and i do know that, even though i’m craving unadulterated normalcy, this thing inside that always pushes me to chase-the-crazy, won’t let normal define my choices for too long. which is really annoying.

and you see…this is the trouble with being me, al.

the big return.

6 Nov

well, it’s been a while. (or is it “awhile”? who knows.)

the first thing i want to tell you is that i have kicked jet lag’s ass. no seriously, i have taken jet lag out into the metaphorical back alley, roughed it up a bit, and left it there to be found by some sassy tv cop who will surely spend days pondering over what exactly happened to poor old jet lag.

no joke.

so yes, i am in fact home. i travelled 30 hours through 3 airports to come back to beautiful fall weather, clean streets and this:

top hats and everything!

well, this is what greeted me at the airport as i walked through those big scary doors to yet another new beginning. while there wasn’t much twirling on my part (30 hours on a plane will apparently curb that desire), i was highly entertained.

top hats indeed. indeed.

and as i drove back to the humble little abode to tear open my large suitcase of indian goodies (who needs clothes anyway, sarees and scarves it is!) i was greeted by yet another ah-mazing occurrence:

a big warm welcome from the fav family

the fav family, of course, welcoming me home in their own special way. these lovelies don’t mess around – they wrapped the entire humble abode in a friendly yellow ribbon. it was almost as good as the canoodle i got from the baby who calls me auntie al – but more on that later.

and so, i must stop here for now – although there are many things left to say, kind readers. just know that i have safely returned and i have already enjoyed a few lovely oaked bottles of chilled chardy in celebration. naturally.