So, I Guess I'm Going Around the World?

I was seven when I thought of the idea.  I wanted so badly to pack my football (soccer, pfft) bag with all the essentials like pizza crusts and cheese and hitchhike my way around the grand state of Massachusetts.  You see, at the age of 7, Massachusetts WAS the size of the world as far as I was concerned.  My presence was insignificant when compared to the size of the my home state and traveling to Boston seemed like it would be one of the biggest adventures I could have.  Bostonians even had foreign accents! 

I guess I've grown up since then (only physically of course) and my ambitions have also grown.  Come September 2013, I will be leaving my fuzzy children and loved ones behind and heading out on my own to travel and see as much of the world as possible.

In theory, this seems like a dream come true.  How many people have you heard say "I wish I traveled when I was younger.  I wish I saw the world."? How fantastic of me to get a start on regretting less in my life by backpacking my way to Asia and beyond!  Only one problem (or maybe multiple that can be lumped into one).  I'm as nervous as I was in 3rd grade when we were doing speed multiplication tables and our teacher was calling on us seat by seat.  Remember those times?  Your palms start sweating, you're close to passing out, you're desperately trying to keep down your breakfast that is dead-set on making a reappearance, and the only thing that keeps your ears from ringing is your pathetic desire to count how many seats away you sit in correlation to the problem you will be asked?  Or maybe just imagine you're Charlie Sheen and you're... well do I really need to even explain that analogy?

Well, I feel like that, except I'm twenty-six and I'm having reoccurring dreams of becoming homeless in China due to my inability to ask for directions based solely on the fact that I STICK OUT LIKE A SORE THUMB.  Not just a sore thumb, but a bandaged in hot-pink and safety-orange colored wrap because you got it caught in the car door while the car was running and the keys were locked inside kind of sore.  For the fun of it, google "blonde in china" and take a look at that personal-bubble popping phenomenon.

       

Now, don't get me wrong.  I know full-well what I am getting myself into and I do look forward to not being in the majority population as I travel.  I like the possibility I could be confused for a celebrity solely based on the fact Casper the Ghost is my doppelganger.  It goes without saying that I will be documenting this particular part of my trip very well.  I guess where my real nervousness lies is within my ability to be... forgetful and unique... fornique?

I would like to take this time to introduce you to "Past Tina".  Past Tina is a douchecanoe-goober that perpetually likes to mess with Current Tina's plans and ability to function normally on a daily basis.  Don't believe me? Let's just take a stroll down memory lane.

December 12, 2012:

So, I lost my flash drive with my entire semester worth of work on it. I spent the last hour frantically searching for it in logical places like my electronics drawer, backpack, car, and other related places. Then, I remembered. I forgot my ENTIRE capstone in the fridge my senior year of college... so WHY would my flash drive be anywhere logical? I started by looking in the fridge and no dice. Instead, I found it tucked away IN a sock in my sock drawer. WTF is wrong with past Tina? At what point did she say to herself "the safest and most memorable place to put a very valuable item is in a sock tucked away at the bottom of this draw. I'll totally remember that." Current Tina would like to punch you in the face.

May 5, 2013:

I went to the store today and saw a nice jacket I wanted to try on.  As a normal and well-adjust person would do, I took off my current jacket to try on the new one.  Today, Past Tina forgot to put on a shirt.  Today, Current Tina stripped down to her bra to try on a jacket without noticing until it was too late and a small child was staring.  Past Tina wins again. 

I could go on, but I think you get the point.  There are times where I am wearing my inductee badge to the Space Cadet University loud and proud.  Now, when I'm close to home and surrounded by VERY supporting individuals (thanks ya'll) I can still manage to feed myself, shower, and go about my day without major consequence.  But when I think of transporting Past Tina abroad... that's when SGR (shit gets REAL).  Who will save me from Past Tina's mistakes of getting on the wrong plane?  Who will be my savor from her ridiculous thought process that social cues are only suggestions?  I shutter at the thought of the consequences and awkward times that may lay ahead.

I guess it is time for Current Tina to put on her big girl pants and *GASP* actually focus on the task at hand.  It's difficult when there are so many shiny objects around and your brain processes much faster than your feet, hands, mouth, and other necessary body parts can.  It is time for me to actually read maps, ask for directions, and add a filter to the drivel that comes out of my mouth!  Maybe, just maybe, I could stop Past Tina in her tracks and finish my trip without international relations problems!

Of course, if I'm unable to, I guess it only means this blog will be much more enjoyable in just a short couple months. Happy trails!

Bootstraps

Today, while at a local drugstore, a middle-aged woman was using an EBT card to purchase some basic necessities: tissues, advil, and milk. The card had some trouble going through and an older male behind me in line scoffed. I heard him mumble under his breath “get a *expletive* job and stop mooching”. My mind raced a mile a minute and I took a second to observe both of them. The woman was wearing simple clothes and had a tan line where it was obvious a wedding ring had been (possible recent divorce) and she had a picture of what appeared to be her son on the counter (she had taken it out of her wallet to get her card). As for the older man, he was a blue-collar construction worker with rough hands that had shown years of hard labor. It appeared to me that his past was riddled with difficulty but perseverance. All I could think to myself was “how has our society come to this?”. How can one person who has seen obvious struggles in their lifetime have such hate for a person who is experiencing the same? When did people, and especially communities, stop supporting those in need? More importantly to me…when did it ever become the job of the government to take care of a member of my own society? The more and more that our government supplies aid to those in need, the more and more flawed the system becomes... from two point of views. In a utopian world, the functionality of welfare would be a marvelous idea. But, instead, we live in our world where we have bastardized it… a world that we have created that is filled with judgment, unfounded hate, and disappointment. I see both sides of the problem. While I do not agree with the statement of the construction worker, I can understand his dismay for the dilemma that we inevitably see before us. He sees a society where it is more favorable to let the government to take care of you rather than picking yourself up by the bootstraps. There are families that have gone generations on welfare which is infuriating and plain depressing. But, I also see the reverse side of this circumstance. In such a society where we are angered by those who “mooch” off of welfare, we too expect a national government to aid the fallen. We do not bother to take that upon ourselves instead. Do you think it ever would have a thought to believe that he and his community should rally behind this woman so that she can stand on her feet again… so that she would not need assistance from another place? Why, when I volunteer at homeless shelters, is there always a shortage of volunteers? Don’t you think that if we could lend a hand to our community, that no aid from elsewhere would be needed? I leave you with this. While working on site as an engineer a year ago, a house burned down in the small town I was working for. Thankfully the family was unharmed, but they lost everything. That week, the entire neighborhood showed up at their property with donated lumber, tools, food, proper permits, clothes, toys, and more. Over the next two weeks, they rebuilt the house and held a block party to celebrate at the end with a potluck serving. When I asked one of the neighbors who helped rebuild why he did it and didn’t just wait for the insurance to kick in, he looked at me dead faced and said “Why the hell would we not help? They are our community and, therefore, they are part of us and our responsibility. There is nothing our government could give those people that we couldn’t and more. We gave them our understanding and their peace of mind back. Tell me, wouldn’t you do the same?” 

Take away: Stop bitching for assistance if you can do it your goddamn self and stop judging others that need help that ask for it if you can help them first. Jeez.

Part Puppy, Part Demon

On March 12th, I haphazardly scrolled down my facebook page innocently enough creeping on people until I came across a friend’s post:

“So, anybody want a fluffy, white husky that is ridiculously adorable?”

Every single one of my childhood fantasies of owning my own noble husky while being the envy of the town mushing around in the cooliest of sleds flashed before my eyes.

“I bet this dog is amazing, well trained, compassionate, and is just as excited about dragging my lazy butt around on a sled as I am. She will love me, respect me, and be my best friend”.

If I had only known that I would end up with something more like this.

My fingers involuntarily started to move themselves across the keyboard as I wrote back to my friend about my interest in adopting the dog. I have no memory of what happened after March 13th until A-Day (adoption day) on April 3rd. A day that will live in infamy.

I found myself at the owner’s house. In front of me sat the most adorable white eyelashes and daring blue eyes I had ever seen. They burned into my heart as my subconscious took over:

Compulsive Decision Brainwave: ZOMG, adopt this dog now. LOOK AT THOSE EYELASHES.

Reasonable Thinking Brainwave: You already have an 80 pound Akita who outsmarts you on a daily basis and a retarded cat who is still able to do the same. You can barely dress yourself in the morning. You work a full time job and you live in a city. For the love of all that is good, do not adopt this dog.

Compulsive Decision Brainwave: I'm sorry, what were you saying? I couldn't hear you over HOW CUTE THOSE EYELASHES ARE. DID YOU SEE HER BLUE EYES?!

Reasonable Thinking Brainwave: She is a puppy and she is going to need training, vet visits, and all your free time. She isn't house trained, she pulls on the leash, and she jumps on people to say hi. Look at her right now. As we're speaking, she is eating sticks and rocks off the ground. I think she just ingested a stick whole. SHE IS EATING FOLIAGE. Walk away, slowly.

Compulsive Decision Brainwave: What? Well, whatever you were saying I’m sure wasn’t important. By the way, we just adopted the puppy while you were rambling on about irrelevant drivel.

Reasonable Thinking Brainwave: WTF?!

As I snapped out of my Me, Myself, and I moment, I realized I had a leash in my hand, extra leftover puppy food, a kennel, and the previous owners were saying "good luck and take care!". I couldn’t breathe for a second so I stared down at the puppy and she stared back at me knowingly. Her eyes screamed "you will never sleep again" and I swear… she smirked.

I numbly drove home, still not understanding the magnitude of my decision. I brought the puppy to my house in Dracut to introduce her to my family. As I let her out of my SUV, the consequences of my decision became clear. The puppy was not the stoic sled dog that I had envisioned in my childhood fantasy. Rather, she resembled a demon on a leash, twisting in her harness and making indescribable leaps in the air to try and free herself. Her entire body was quickly tangled in the leash with no possible way out. She gnawed at her nylon restraints and I pathetically tried to corral her like an old and out-of-shape cowboy herding a cat.

Oh God. What have I done?

After an hour long introduction with my family, the puppy and I made our way home to Maine. Thankfully, a friend helped me get her to the apartment from my car. In the next 4 hours, my mind reeled. She tried to jump on the kitchen counter top which was adorned with a knife, eat her harness (which she later accomplished), taste the cat, and chew up some of the floor boards. She managed to piss all over my taxes and bite through a brand new $75 leash like butter. She saw commands like “no” as a challenge to top her last menacing act with something more outrageous.

I called upon whatever adoption God there was and begged for mercy. I attempted to feed and water her in her kennel, but she found it much more entertaining smashing the ceramic bowl and flipping her water over effectively drenching herself in the process.

I raised my white flag and thought it best to simply go to bed to sleep off the massive headache that I was starting to feel.

When I finally managed to put her in her kennel, I shut off the light and started to leave the room to head to my own bed. All of a sudden, where a pure and honest creation from the devil once sat, a heart broken and entirely small puppy was left. She started to cry, howl, and whine mercilessly. Her loneliness cut through the air so sharply that it broke my heart and my eardrums simultaneously. Partly deaf, I opened her kennel door. She jumped into my arms and I carried her to my bed. Only a minute later, she snuggled up to my face and promptly fell asleep nuzzling my chin.

Now, I had realized what I had done. I adopted a white tornado that completely attacked and forcibly changed my idea of what a neat, orderly, and calm life I should have. I, for all intensive purposes, adopted chaos. All the problems of the day melted away and I instantly confirmed I had made one of the best decisions of my young life.

Welcome home Minnie, the pure bred Siberian Husky Demon.