Three weeks….

It’s three weeks until my birthday. Literally, it’s 3 weeks. March 16, I’ll be 32. I think I am not really taking it well.

Turning 25, well, it was no big deal. Mom (who turned 50 that year) took it alot harder than I did – it’s like she said she was officially old. And I guess it really hit her that I was the same age as she was when I was born. (She was 25 when I was born – and now I was 25 too.) At the time, I just thought – lord woman, you’re crazy. I couldn’t imagine having been married for 5 years, being pregnant on my 25th birthday, and then having a kid a week later. Times have changed since my mom grew up (obviously) as that was more the norm – married and kids before you were 30.

Thing is that my 30th birthday didn’t bother me too much either. At 30, I was packing up, selling my house, and basically hedging my bets on a move to Europe with my job. I was way too busy to stop and think “God… I’m 30!!”. To me, I felt very young, I was anticipating the new experiences that the move would bring, and yet dreading leaving my friends (and my “new” boyfriend) behind. Sure, I wasn’t where I thought I would be – had you asked me at 27 where I was going to be – I surely would have said married – but sometimes, things don’t work out as you’d planned and you make alternate plans.

Anyhow, fast forward 2 years from 30. I’ll be 32. I’m in Germany, and Berlin is fun, amazing, and all it’s cracked up to be. It’s been a wild ride. I’ve made new friends, had a ton of crazy experiences, travelled a bit more (checked several things off my bucket list), and even learned some German in the process. I would say I’ve grown up a little more – gathered some wisdom – and learned more tolerance. And, now I’m taking stock and not sure what I want to do.

Literally, the world is my oyster. I am thinking of a new job, and checking out wanted ads to see if there’s anything that catches my eye in Europe or in the US. I’m considering moving – whether it’s into Berlin or somewhere else, I don’t know. I desperately want to travel – but money is an object, so wherever I go, I need to make sure there is enough to be self supporting when I’m done. I’m restless – my gypsy feet are itching – and yet – I’m undecided – waiting for … SOMETHING. Only, I don’t know what that something is. I’ll know it when I see it but… yeah in the meantime, I’m looking… undecided… and this, I suppose would be termed “mid-life indecisiveness”. Joy.

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The best thing about February…

isn’t Valentine’s Day. It is, however, related.
Around Christmas time, most people become obsessed with oranges – they give you an orange and the story of some little orphan who got the one orange and then shared it with her friends and how it was so tasty and so on about how it’s promoting health because of the vitamin C and yadda yadda. For me, this was always a nice story, but with so much other stuff going on, I didn’t really care or feel the way I do come February.
By February, I’m sick of winter. I’m tired of the rain, the wet, the short days and the long dark nights (even if they are getting shorter.) I’m tired of the cold. I’m tired of people being sick (and in most cases, me being ill too) and I’m ready for a change.
And then comes the week of Valentines. Laugh if you will, but Valentine’s is when you start seeing the cards, the roses, and the strawberries in the stores (all be it at a premium). Only they’re not quite ripe – and don’t catch your attention. However, if you give it a couple weeks, and keep your senses open, you’ll discover….
Fresh, Vine Ripened Strawberries….
priceless rubies of sweetness that burst into your mouth and remind you that yes, somewhere, there is sunshine. Somewhere, it is warm. Somewhere, the flowers have bloomed, the bees have buzzed, and a fruit has grown to be plucked and trucked directly to your tastebuds.
And that’s when I’m tempted. I walk past the display all year – until for 30 seconds, all I can smell are fresh warm strawberries. As the scent envelopes my body, these little gems call to me, through my nose, peaking my tastebuds and making me salivate in anticipation. It seems, at that moment, that I’m suddenly smelling summer vacation – and I have to pause, turn back, and look for the most ripe, fragrant container of perfect strawberries because no matter the cost, they will be mine – they must be mine. I crave them like the sky craves the moon, the plants need the rain or like a bird needs to fly.
Rarely do they make it all the way home. As I eat my precious red nuggets, each one bursting into my mouth with a juicy tart sweetness, it’s like they have a promise of summer, a promise of sunshine and warm days ahead, of feet in the sand and exotic trips to somewhere beyond.
Yeah, it’s the strawberries that do it to me everytime. They make me long for a new season, long for the warm damp earth they come out of, and take me – for just a moment – into the world beyond winter’s rainy gray cold into the vivid sun filled days.
It is for this reason, that I say, the best thing about February is Strawberries.
(PS. Happy Birthday, Angi – BFF – A&A, E&E, BATS, NMW!)
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The End of Two Eras… Saying Goodbye

I’m sad.
It’s the end of two eras – and what some would call, the world coming to the end. In either instance, I’m sure the world isn’t coming to an end, but hey, shave my head, put on the “Jesus Saves” placard, and we’ll ring a bell to say goodbye and welcome in the changes of the future.

First and foremost (mostly because this does affect me as it’s part of my photography hobby), I saw today that

Polaroid is no longer making instant camera film

Having grown up with a camera in my hand – one of which was the instant one where you had to shake the picture until it came out – I feel old. I remember the days of film in my horrible kodak 110 camera which we would leave in the car until the plastic case and the film melted into a glopy mess. More importantly, I remember my first polaroid instant camera and packet of film, and running around taking pictures of random kid stuff – us in the swimming pool, the craw daddies in the creek we had caught, and just whatever was fun at the time. It was great – go out, take the polaroid with us, and just snap pictures of whatever on the way. I have a drawer full of them – fading at the edges, the imbedded chemicals gradually eating away toward the center of the picture…. It was so cool – especially because you knew within a matter of minutes (of rapidly insane shaking, blowing and flipping) if you had captured the moment. From the sound of it, the cameras are now “old technology” and only fuji is still making the film….I’m betting, however, that their ‘film making’ , much like my “instant” photographs will probabally be eaten away by time soon enough.

Secondly (and more importantly -though I’m not really sad about this one), I saw that Fidel Castro has said he’s not renewing his presidency. He’s gone, resigned, out, headed to retirement. I always thought he’d be one to die in office – (ok the other one will be Queen Elizabeth of England) – but he proved me wrong. Kudos to him for that, now if only we could get him to let democracy in to Cuba instead of his brother taking the presidency…

Oh – on a side note, special thanks to MSNBC for putting up what I would call a “nice” picture of him – as opposed to the ones where he’s speaking and in the middle of a word. No matter how crazy he has driven the US government (yes, Castro is a crazy dude), this man still deserves a little respect and dignity as the announcement of his resignation is being made.

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