A Florida Summer

Saturday, I lived like a Floridian in Summer.
I went to the art museum with friends, wearing bike shorts and a cut tank.

We got caught in the rain with my rainbow umbrella.
I dried my saturated shoes with a blow dryer.

We took photos in a kaleidoscope and ate Vietnamese food. I ordered everything I wanted and took home leftovers.

Sunday, I worked like a Floridian in Summer.
I met up with a friend at the farmer's market and brought flowers to a vendor who lost a loved one.

We hugged (me, the vendor, and the friend).
We laughed.

I went to work on my day off, wearing bike shorts and a Dave Matthews Band T-shirt.
I ate my leftovers.

I brought home abandoned balloons. I let one loose.
It carried with it to the skies my hopes, my dreams, and my great love for the Summer that was.

It's time to let time move on.

Mood music: Vancouver Sleep Clinic - Vapour

A meal

Today was a good day to be alive.
It was love and nutrient rich.
Today, I was hungry.

I sniffed the scent out of all the roses
And walked with gravel beneath my feet.
Leaves between my fingers tickled even my soul.

I sweated out the impurities within my body
And my mind.
I breathed in fresh air and exhaled the old.

I felt the warmth of the constant sun on my skin
Its rays fed me vitamin D from a golden spoon.
I grew stronger with each glistening gulp.

Today was a good day to be alive.
It was love and nutrient rich.
Today, I ate well.

It is my hope that you'll love yourself.

I posted this blurb in response to an article on LearnVest.com, written by Amanda Chatel entitled "How I Do Paris on the Cheap". The writer traveled to Paris on a whim to move on from a break-up, and this was my two cents:

This article is perfect. I am writing this response from my hotel in Ireland, where I came on holiday after breaking up with a guy and choosing Ireland on a whim. I am traveling solo in all ways, and am even driving myself through the country seeing life-changing sights and challenging myself. Do what you're afraid of, if even just to prove to yourself that you can. Stand on cliffs, brave the winds and weather of a new climate. Be uncomfortable. Find comfort in adventure. And if you're nursing a broken heart, go somewhere new, meet new people, be unsure of everything and you will find so much of yourself in seeming unfamiliarity.
-Amanda

It is so reassuring that I'm not the only one who acts intuitively, but why do so many of us have to hurt? I know men hurt, too, but lately, it has been impossible to ignore all of the women in my world nursing broken hearts, feeling down about themselves, sometimes even verbally affirming that they have no worth or making crude comments about their beauty or lack thereof. WHEN DID THIS BECOME THE NORM?

Women have always been bombarded with propaganda to convince us that we're simply not good enough as we are, on our own, etc. Once a single woman hits her late 20s and early 30s, it suddenly becomes priority for those around her, a mission, to find her a mate. It's simply frowned upon for a woman to be single, wasting her precious time and precious eggs on years devoted to a career that won't cuddle her at night and provide stability. FUCK THIS, this whole demented mentality. I do not, have not, and would not define my worth based on my marital status. I have never depended on a man for anything, let alone my own self-worth, and I find it sad that in some ways, this has probably limited my success with relationships. I had an ex who told me it offended him the first couple times we went out that I insisted on paying for myself. The fact that I work three jobs and take pride in being able to make my own way in the world offends a man who feels it is his institutional duty to provide a cup of coffee or a glass of wine for me? WHAT?!

And for the matter of women afraid to be seen without make-up? I go out into the world without make-up frequently. I would even say almost always. Wearing make-up has, for so many women (myself included at points in my life), become a crutch. We become embarrassed to be seen without it because we're afraid of how we'll be viewed. We're afraid to be less beautiful than the women painted up and catching the eyes of men. If you won't like me without make-up, you won't like me any more with it. Throughout my years on stage, the idea of image has become permanently encoded in my DNA. I understand its value and its detriment; I, however, do not let it stop me from being who I am with or without my best face forward. Without make-up, I am still charming, I am still smart, I am still funny, I am still talented, and believe it or not, I have come to find out that without make-up, I am still desirable. There is nothing any cosmetic can offer me that I can't and must first cultivate within myself.

I am who I am because of my experiences, my determination, my passions, my ambition, my sense of humor. I love myself for myself, as I am. Like anyone, there are days when I feel less than beautiful and moments certainly when mascara makes me look more like I'm part of the living world, but I don't rely on it to give me personality, confidence, or a fighting chance at wrangling a man if I so desired.

So how do we move on from a place of insecurity and fear? It starts with an understanding of who you are and your deep-seated qualities. What is your value? What do you like about yourself? Who are you AS yourself? Again, not to be confused with "I'm a mother, I'm a wife, I'm a girlfriend, etc.". Those are not identities. Those are roles you play that require the role of others to define you. WHO ARE YOU? I am an artist. I am a performer. I am a poet. I don't need to be anything but what I am. Make-up can't make me who I am. I can only use make-up to enhance the projection of who I am, not who I am in general. I can express my personality through make-up; not create a new personality. This is a prompt for you to explore the difference.

It breaks my heart that a friend at work, who is so beautiful and funny and a pleasure to be around, sees herself as overweight and accessory to unworthy men. I cannot hear any more women put themselves down. We cannot accept the attention of others who do not respect us because we're desirous of the attention. THE RIGHT PERSON WILL MAKE YOU A PRIORITY. The right person will respect you above all else. The right person will compliment you- regularly. The right person will not say hurtful things to you. The right person will appreciate you. For all that you are; if not, the right person will be willing to learn.

So, let this long and wordy post remind you that you have, at all times, the option to love yourself more than anyone else ever has and treat yourself with the respect you deserve. Do things you enjoy. If you are not around people who love and appreciate you, find new people. If you are not happy with yourself as you are, explore who you are RIGHT NOW (not who you were or who you want to be) and find ways to love THIS person. You are all that you have, so if you don't love you to the ends of the earth, who will?

The Gathering: the finale

And here it is, the low down on the last of my days in Ireland for this trip. I'm now back home in the states, getting ready to go to work later this evening- really, no down time, just jumping right back into things. So, let us relive the beauty of the holiday. :)

Alright, so after leaving Galway, I headed for the Cliffs of Moher. I had no way of knowing, but this would turn out to be the most spiritual experience of my life up to now. Never have I seen anything more beautiful, dangerous, challenging, and haunting, and never have I been more called to a place than I was to the cliffs. The Cliffs, located on the western coast of Ireland in County Clare, are up to 702 feet high and stretch for 5 miles along the coast. My pictures, I'm afraid, will never do justice to the experience of actually being there. You cannot know the steepness of the cliffs without traversing them yourself, the fury of the winds that promise to blow you where they must, the beauty of the grasses and natural life upon its landscape. I got much too close the every edge, escaping sure death by laying flat on the cliffs rolling away from them, certain that if I stood, I'd be taken over the edge to a rocky, watery grave. But I can say, with definitive understanding, that there is nothing more incredible than hanging off the edge of a cliff, feeling the absolute power of the universe in a single breath and knowing, in every molecule, that you are more alive than ever. Below, feast your eyes on the most beautiful sights I've ever seen:

 The Cliffs of Moher

 On my steep drive up to the Cliffs. I had to leave my hat in my bag or else it would have blown off.

 Little nubbin :)

 I was blown over a couple times and have the grass stains to prove it. Lol

 It's impossible to get a decent picture up here.

 Here, my face is being blown off.

 A memorial on the side of the Cliffs. See its plaque below.

 

 In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have gotten so close.

 Living on the edge.

 Hey, those look sharp.

 Parts of the Cliffs were literally flaking away like croissants in my hand.

 Beautiful plants on the Cliffs.

 Feeling proud and accomplished that I'd gotten through an almost impossible part of the Cliffs because the wind was so strong, it literally blew people around like scraps of paper. I did it! I spent time resting and journaling here and a wild cliff dog came and laid at my feet. The whole experience was so moving, I cried there on the Cliffs at the edge of the world of extreme and utter bliss.

 He actually had a collar, but no identification on it. I forgot to mention, Cliff dog had only three legs. This three-legged dog must hobble around the Cliffs, finding happy strangers and living life wild and free. I love this dog.

Getting back on the road, looking like a wild woman.

I almost forgot, these signs were posted along the paved walkway... just in case. Lol

After leaving the Cliffs of Moher, I began the long drive to Killarney, where I'd be spending the next two nights of my journey. On the way, I stopped in Limrick to see a poetry hot spot my friend Curtis had told me to check out. (I've been a spoken word artist for many years, so I longed for the chance to participate in the Irish poetry scene. Unfortunately, I had arrived on a Sunday night, and the poetry night is on Wednesday. Booo. Nonetheless, if I ever pass through Limrick again, I'll be sure to come on a Wednesday night.

Now, at most gas stations in Ireland, there are large plastic cones outside advertising that they had soft serve ice cream. I had seen people all over the country eating these and I thought 'damn it, I want one!'. So, I had a few cones while I was there. :) And now, it's all I crave now that I'm home!

 Mmm! :)

Now, about my first real day in Killarney. I headed to a place called Muckross House. It has beautiful, expansive land among its contained garden, as well as a waterfall and other beauties in the surrounding area. I spent some time in the House store, getting some delicious chocolate and souvenirs before heading out. The land on which the House was built is massive, and I found myself getting voluntarily lost in its forests, choosing to fall off the beaten paths and explore the unknown. As always, I was beckoned deeper and deeper into its clutches by the beauty I saw, always wondering what other mysteries lay beyond the visible. Here's what I saw:

 The inside of a bell flower

 Babbling brooks

 MASSIVE leaves

MASSIVE trees

 Stony stairways

 Giants

 Open fields

 Wishing sticks

 Ruffled mountains

 Steep climbs over waterways

 Green moss covering EVERYTHING

 Torc Waterfall

(What felt like) all of Ireland

 Canopies of trees

 After coming out of the forest from the waterfall, the weather had much improved. The sun was out!

 The coolest slug I've ever seen!

The gardens of Muckross House

I stopped by Killarney Castle on my way back to my hotel:

I later checked back into my hotel room in Killarney, a noisy, cute little room just outside of a small in-town fair ground and local restaurants with loud music and drunken singing. As the room didn't have AC (which I found was common in Ireland), I had to keep my window open all night for air. Here were my digs:

I took myself out for one nicer meal during my trip, having eaten frugally for most of my trip, and I chose this place:

 Beautiful decor

 Mushroom caps with couscous and steamed veggies

 The gorgeous upstairs terrace dining area. I'm in love.

 The cool bathroom. Inside the bathroom, they had Nat King Cole playing.

 I was seated beneath this royal fellow.

The bathroom floor was gorgeous.

Overall, the food and atmosphere at the Smoke House were quite good, but the staff was very inattentive and failed to mention that it was a cash-only establishment. Luckily, I had the cash, but if not, I could have been washing dishes in Ireland!

This is for my castmates! <3 at="" b="" bar="" hotel="" musician="" my="" outside="" playing="" the="">

The next day, I was back on the road and on my way back to Dublin to finish out my last night. It was my intention to leave early so I could spend the day exploring the city, but as always, nothing goes to plan, and I took many stops to explore...

 Amusing myself on the long journey (about 5 hours)

 Driving in the country with the windows down lets you know just why Ireland is so green. PEW!

The awesome map the cabby had given me: my lifeline on this trip

With my handy map, I was able to navigate my way to the Rock of Cashel. Here are some sights at this landmark site:

 In the graveyard

 A crow was seriously just hanging out here, guarding this grave. Creepy.

 Also creepy.

 I don't know what this castle is in the distance, but I'm moving in there.

 Not all the dead were buried. Poor creepy crow.

Now, by the time I finally made it to Dublin, it was about 7 PM. I had found my hotel quickly enough with the succinct directions of a guy at a gas station, but parking was a whole other issue. Because I couldn't find parking, I ended up losing the hotel and not finding my way back for another two hours. Dublin is a circus. It's Downtown Orlando and Winter Park on crack times ten. I actually didn't even find my way back on my own; I paid a cabby €5 to lead the way. I had to pay the hotel parking lot €8 to park (which is bullshit) and didn't end up checking in until 5 minutes to 10. I was exhausted and stressed from driving all over the city in city traffic and getting lost, and I was hungry. The hotel check in clerk informed me that the restaurant was closing at 10, so basically, I knew that meant I'd have no options for food. So, I dropped my stuff off in the room, and headed out onto the streets for find food. I stopped at the first restaurant I saw outside and walked in (only to discover that I had walked into the restaurant's entrance of the establishment attached to the hotel. Lol The bartender was nice enough to let me get some food and a well-deserved Bulmer's (aka Magner's in the states). A few silent and tears fell from my eyes and I noticed I was shaking. So much stress for one night for one girl. I quickly ate my butternut squash soup with brown bread and chips while reading the local paper, which the bartender had given me. He was very friendly and provided an oasis of peace in a city that had been so unkind to me. I'm used to city living and city people (heck, Orlando was voted the 3rd rudest city in America- I'm used to putting up with pricks!), but this just wasn't what I had hoped Dublin would be to me on my last day. I had hoped to return to Brian's shop, maybe even stop in to Giddy pottery studio to say hello to the owner who'd been expecting me that day, but none of that came to plan. Instead, I took a quick shower in the hotel room, which I hated, drank my delicious roadside juice, packed my bags for the trip home, and went to sleep. I awoke early the next morning to find my way out of the Dublin circus and back to the airport. It took me some time, as I had a few wrong turns and general confusion, but I found my way out of the city and ready to be home in my own bed. I returned my car, got a shuttle to the airport, and headed to Toronto for a three hour layover. I would have loved to have spent some time in Toronto, but perhaps that is a journey for another time.

I finally arrived home in Orlando, tired and limping a bit with a sore ankle from all of my walking around the country (in the wrong shoes, I might add), and was greeted by the face and escort of a treasured friend, Viet. I was so grateful to be home, and for all that I experienced. When I do Dublin again in the future, I will hostel it so I can meet other people and I'll just take the bus or walk so that I can appreciate the city instead of stress myself out. I will always treasure the memories I made, the sights I saw, the food I ate, the lessons I learned. I drove myself around a foreign European country, on my own, with nothing more than an insatiable desire to be somewhere and become someone new. I did it. I lived fully, on my own terms, in my own way. I became more connected to my ancestors through the land that had offered and challenged them so much. I am grateful.

So what next? Who knows? As we know, I plan nothing, instead opting to set goals in the directions of my dreams, and trust that the rest will follow. My goal is to finish school this semester and close that chapter of my life. It is to travel more, and work professionally. I would love to make my sole living off my talent for comedy, storytelling, poetry, writing, painting, acting, dance- any and all of it! I'm 26 years old, fully in the midst of becoming a great woman, unsure of the future, what and whom it will hold, but going confidently into its hands knowing that the best is yet to come.