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Published: August 22nd 2007
"Think of the long trip home.
Should we have stayed at home and thought of here?
Where should we be today?
Is it right to be watching strangers in a play
in this strangest of theatres?
What childishness is it that while there’s a breath of life
In our bodies, we are determined to rush
to see the sun the other way around?"
- Questions of Travel, Elizabeth Bishop There’s a series of moments in traveling, periodic enlightenment, aha moments per say, and I live for them.
They aren’t fancy, or always overwhelming. They’re usually quiet and unnoticed. My eyes grow wide, and I feel wild and childish, like a little girl who’s just seen the ice cream truck.
New York New York (beautiful-hot-addictive)
New York, what do I love about New York. The grass, thick, almost wet, tired of summer and sagging into itself. Laying down in the plush blankety stuff underneath any tree that will extend shade for little me. Just enough to stretch to the tips of my toes.
I love watching the wind blow jagged leaves above my head, I love to walk around on the street and breathe fresh air. Real air,
My View
New York from the bow of the Victorynot processed ship air feeling as fake as the world I must call my own.
I love seeing something new, anything. I love feeling summer on the burning sidewalk, seeing trees and people wilting in the heat, feeling my clothes hold onto the sun shining down….
Park’s are meant for people (the sticky side of NYC)
I went off on my own this morning, excited for some time in the classic Central Park, drink some coffee, write some letters. After my intense night of fun with lots of people I thought I needed a break. Thought. I showed up and sat on a patch of grass, sweating, and smacking a nosy fly biting my legs as many times as possible before I killed him in pure rage. I took out my notebook and nano and had the overwhelming sense to cry. Kids were laughing and playing around me, a couple’s swinging arms passed me and I could almost feel their happiness filling the empty space around me. I decided it was time for a change. I found a little magazine shop filled with “seven thousand” different subscriptions. Surely I would find distraction and some fun for a
We're Strong
Sailing under Verrazano Bridge half hour or so. I sat down in the stuffy back corner with black chairs and old black men all around me, men with the emotionless expression of not having a care in the world, when in reality they probably have more than I could possibly imagine. I took out my muffin and grabbed a photo magazine, again the tears came, but they were much stronger this time, I flipped blankly through pages, trying to eat my muffin; nothing, I felt nothing and tears welling in my eyes. Life currently sucks. I got up and walked “home” to my little dorm tucked into the bottom of the ship deciding parks are meant for people; for laughter and good talks and holding hands and Frisbee (you can’t play Frisbee by yourself), not for lonely hours with a cup of coffee and a wish for a friend. Of course, I saw many beautiful, independent women content drinking coffee and reading a fancy novel. But, not for me, for me parks are meant for people.
Really, I think, people are meant for people, And, lately, like my trip to the park, I’ve been around a million people, laughed a lot, hugged, even kissed
a few people; but, there’s been no one to play Frisbee with, no one to really talk to. And, I miss that deep inside me.
Adventures in Hell’s Kitchen
I didn’t realize people in NY actually bake during the summer, they do. Tar melts and sticks to the bottom of your shoes, the sidewalk boils heat onto you like a brush storm, and if the streets weren’t packed I would expect to see a cobweb rolling past. ‘Hot Hot Hot’, not in the Caribbean but in NYC. The summer is miserable here, I don’t know how people do it.
Why I love my job and other ramblings
I walked into the room with tears welling in my eyes from a combination of sleep deprivation and a sensitive spirit attempting to work with men. “Do you want to go horseback riding tomorrow?” I blinked my eyes in disbelief….really? She needed a friend to go with her on a trail ride to check out a potential new tour for the company. So, I went, in my few free hours I hopped on a horse and explored the back trails of Rockwood Park in Saint John, Canada.
I felt safe and alive again in the middle of the cool humid fog floating through the damp trees and string of gray-blue blueberry bushes I’ve been told make great blueberry pie, a speciality in Saint John.
Meghan brought up the rear of our little tour-testing group, she is a senior in high school, trail guide, and horse fanatic. She looked, acted, taught, and thought like my little cousin Tessi, and I spent most of the ride telling her to pursue her dreams and talking about how great my cousin is. I felt like I was watching and listening to my heart talk. Man, I miss my family.
We spent an hour in the backwoods, trotting through the trees, strolling past steaming waters turned a dropless steel color by the gray and windless skies. Green and browns in every shade filled my vision. After living in a world neon and shiny, like a good vegas showtune, it’s nice to be around something natural. A muted red barn I’ve found suites me a little better than the bright-red “funship funnel” donning the top of my current home.
I still love my job. I still love the life I
Hiking
My tour "Peggy's Cove and Coastal Hike" was gorgeous! have the privilege of living here, full of surprises and emotion, rollercoaster’s of unpredictability and extremes. As a thrill-seeker who likes a challenge, I’m still grateful to be here.
And, I can’t wait to be home….
A different Kind of Vegas
My hands silently, almost thoughtlessly, stepped through the double doors out into in the summer sun, driven or led by a force other than my conscious self.
The sun lit the blank-blue paperlike sky. The water turned a little bit gray, silver maybe, reflecting a thousand sparkles across the rippling table-top, far, far into the horizon. It seemed everything was sparkling, like the constant flashing shimmers of vegas, but real. So, there is something real here, something without a price tag or light bulb, or toothy smile. I spend sleepless nights helping to create a world I don’t believe. Piecing together a floating vegas that has a dark side, sadly everything has a dark side.
But, then, at the end of myself, at the end of the day, I walk out into the air filled with a cold sun and wind blown ocean and remember life is more than my corner office on
The Farm
The 'farm' on my "Flowers, Farms, & New Brunswick Charms" tour the 7th floor. It’s filled with real things I can touch and feel and enjoy.
I’ve found I find life most fulfilling when challenges, the open air, and heavy exercise are present (add people, coffee, and a good nap and life is perfect), so in my future life, empty and blurred before me, I hope to find a combination of those things.
Where I am now
Enjoying life for it’s quietness rather than rush and intensity. 14 and 16 hour days still exist, but the anxiety and rush of my soul has settled in since I first arrived.
It’s a new stage for me now. I understand now a small fraction of what I do. I can comfortably connect and dismantle a television, I can fix a few basic problems often presented to me; the left side of my brain is starting to finally get in shape.
I have a new manager now, my big brother Dusko has gone to enjoy the hot summer on the coast of Croatia, his beautiful home surprisingly few tourist agencies promote and exploit.
I heard stories of the “crazy Romanians” in the AV Department, After a week of
nightmares and mental preparation to be tough and survive with a heart and attitude of steel for the final half of my contract, I met Dan. Penned by my roommate as ‘the most peaceful man I’ve ever met’ I discovered as the polish phrase goes, “fear has big eyes” and my fears were unmerited. He has worked for the company for a million years (or 5), he loves photography, cares about me, and encourages with tender humility several times a day.
Alex has also left and Pepe Mas now fills his shoes. What a character. I love listening to his voice narrow into the Mexicano whine characterized by speedy-gonzalez and Pedro. I would vote for my Pepe Mas anyday.
He looked at me the other day with his passionate Mexicano spirit and punched into the air, “Music is the soul of everything.”, he was talking about editing, but I’m willing to spread his belief across the general span of life. These days I’m inspired by music and take every chance I get to let it soak into my skin a little.
Listening to a song about Jesus reminds me of times I fell in love with Him,
Hiking with Brian the Golf Pro
Hiking in the Peggy's Cove wilderness area reminds me how I miss him, and being around the people who love him.
Dreaming….did I ever mention I love it. Dreaming and little teeny steps walking towards the huge star in the sky I want so badly, I love it almost as much as reaching the goal. Give me a goal, and running is half as much fun as anything else.
One of these days I’ll need to write a story about Canada, Saint John and Halifax, the cities that enchant me every time I see them. Every step outside gives me a chance for another mini-enlightenment. A church steeple or hidden bookstore, a Canadian with a big white beard and fishing suspenders just like I imagined. Every time I hear “eh” I’m reborn.
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Mom
non-member comment
Thank you for the beautiful pictures! We miss you!
Alyssa, What a pleasure to read about your adventures and see the images of places you've been! Your style always makes me smile because you aren't afraid to be genuine. Thank you for not painting a perfect picture. We have grown to admire your fortitude and perseverance even more than we did before. It won't be long now before we get to see you in more than a photgraph. You are missed beyond words! So get ready for lots of hugs when we pick you up in November! Love you, Momma