Bon Voyage...

October 30, 2007

Well this is certainly the most surreal experience of my life.

The major hurtle of getting through the check-in and then security with my absurd amount of belongings is over. I paid the $50 for over-weight baggage, but that’s ½ as much as I was expecting. It’s a small price to pay for knowing I have everything I need. The cranky woman at the Lufthansa counter also didn’t like my garment bag because it weighed 6lbs more than it should have, so I took a bunch of stuff out and handed them to Kate and Caroline and we went on our way. Once we were out of range, we promptly put them back in again. I’m sorry, but if I am going to be in Siberia during the winter I am going to have my winter coats. But, enough about baggage.

I am now sitting at my gate in SFO. It’s gate 99 and my flight is first to Munich and then to Rome, where I spend the night, and then I go to Palermo the next day where my boss will be waiting for me. I’m in gray seat, wall, and carpet misery…but I suppose the trip will be colorful, but as in life, the waiting is drab. And, in a way, this grayness around me holds true to “One day, one perfect color.” Not because I am melancholy. On the contrary, I am highly serene. And I am in the bardo. Just waiting to be tossed back into a new body in a new world with other soul-mates. I’m on that brink…just a few more moments here.

The entire German Lufthansa crew just came down the escalator to our waiting area. They look sharp in their severe navy suits with yellow trim. Very German. I was behind them in security and they were all very nice. But I find the Germans to be very pleasant in general.

There is a man behind me who has stretched out and is snoring quietly. It’s 9:46pm right now and we depart in an hour. I can’t believe I am back in this airport for the second time in six months. That reminds me, I need to pay my first payment of my student loans in a few days. Note to self: email Chela Financial to arrange things.

I haven’t cried at all leaving, which surprised even me. I cried when I left this summer for three months. And at that time I had a return flight. No, this time I have a one-way ticket, 1/5 as much money, a couple of jobs lined up, and a tentative plan. But no return ticket as of yet after spending what will probably be 18 months abroad and maybe more. But, luckily I will be taking a job which will pay for my return ticket. Housing, health insurance, and a return ticket home. What could possibly be better?

So, Kate told me to be safe, have fun, don’t be bothered by too many boys, stop worrying about my weight, and to know that she will always be there for me. Amanda cried, a lot. Jax was fairly stoic. My mother surprised me the most and only teared up a little bit, but quickly regained her composure. It’s a Viking thing. Like my grandma Ruth says, “Just get on the boat.” And keep going.

I can’t believe I am sitting in this airport about to get on a flight to go live overseas independently. While I always fantasized about doing stuff like this, I never really considered the reality of it actually occurring. And here I am. In a grey waiting room with my huge garmet bag full of clothes to impress the Italians and keep me warm in a Mongolian winter, and my goddess tote with my art easel and far too much reading material. Damn, it’s heavy. Note to self: German men are kinda cute. German women, not so much. At least not from this sampling anyway. I guess Heidi Klum is the exception. Now THAT would be interesting…if she were here. I saw Tyra Banks at LAX one time on my way back from Fiji. She had cellulite which showed through her tight white pants. But I love the woman, I think she’s a beautiful soul.





Breathe, Laurel, breathe. Holy moly, I am moving across the world and it is happening NOW. The flight which has until now been a pixilated itinerary on my computer is now through a big set of double doors 50 feet away from me. I am firmly convinced in the power of imagination to set amazing paths in motion. It’s almost inevitable sometimes that what I dream will happen. It’s getting easier all the time.

On a side note, I think it’s total BS that I have to pay for wireless in the airport.

I’ll come back tougher, more worldly, braver, and more determined in what I want to do. At the time of this writing I want to live in 5 countries, and learn 6 languages, have two books published, get a perfect score on my grad school exams, and the go to either USC or Georgetown to get a dual degree in Business and Public Policy with an Itn’l office.

Ok, I have been called. Seat 48G here I come. World, here I come. Hear me roar, and get ready because it’s game-on from here.

Ciao Ragazzi (friends).

Note To Self.

I'm in the Bardo at the moment...two weeks away from moving to Italy. For those of you not in The Know...the Bardo is the place where your soul hangs out in between physical lives, while you wait for your other soul mates to exit their current physical existence and join to so you can all be reincarnated again in new roles and bodies. I'm metaphorically there. In a place called Stockton. I'm waiting for the rest of my future encounters to line themselves up cosmically so that things will arrive right on time when I return to Italy. So, until then, I am just floating. Waiting. Meditating. Worrying. Being exasperating.

Hmmm...what else other than an impending international move? I think I'm in love with a guy who is both perfect and totally wrong for me. We'll call him Dr. Scotts. He's unbelievable in general, but really brusk. He can match wits intellectually, but often doesn't interpret what I am saying correctly. He's also impossible to predict (which is intriguing) or understand (which is maddening). He's really cute (think Eric Dane) but I don't think we are far enough distant in height because I really like to wear heels and it's my mother's fault I am so damn tall (5'10"). He takes great strides not to do anything to upset me, and yet I find myself with hurt feelings on a regular basis. And while it thrills me that he is so perceptive in person and knows the slightest nuance of my mood, it really bothers me that over the phone I feel like he is too quick to judge and dismiss what I am saying because he isn't patient enough to hear it. He's great because he's not intimidated by me, but I find myself a little intimidated by him and that's just not really ok with me. And I am beginning to feel undervalued. And did I mention that he is seeing somebody other than me? That's, er, rather problematic...but I am leaving so I tolerate it. Something I would normally NEVER EVER do.

Note to self: stick to guns about not rewarding bad behavior.

Further note to self: Auntie Sal says that if it has tires or testicles it is going to give you problems.

But he did totally spoil me this last weekend. And, like I said (and he never fails to remind me)...I'm leaving. And it's about damn time because I am really sick of thinking about him. I seriously need some space. I just don't know how I feel about the whole thing. A little nauseous to be honest. I'm soooo over it.

Ok, enough man stuff. Back to me.

Body is looking pretty darn good. Seeing personal trainer at 7am tomorrow so he can torture me, but improve my already fantastic arms and race-horse legs. Butt needs some serious help. It's totally lazy. Yes, I have a lazy ass. And the top of my thighs could stand to loose some more fat...but that will come with time. But I lost an inch off my waist in the last week alone. Good genes that way. I'll always have some major hips and broad shoulders, but my waist gets TEENY TINY. Thank you, Mom.

Hmmm...face also coming along. I'm still waiting to be 30 when my mother insists I will finally come into my own and will cause traffic accidents. Hoping people will have car insurance and nobody gets hurt. 5 years and 2.5 months more until we see if that prediction comes true.

Speaking of predictions...my mother also insists I will be married to someone other than myself in a couple more years. It's not in my plan, but neither was falling for Dr. Scotts before I left for Italy. It was also not my plan to miss not one, but TWO flights coming back from Italy in August and ending up stranded in Chicago...where I was NEVER supposed to be, at 1am, on the sidewalk where there was this really cute turquoise-eyed, broad-shouldered man just waiting for me...who also happened to live in California and wasn't supposed to be on that sidewalk either. The Goddess sure has a hell of a sense of humor.

Another note to self: Must be more wary of cute guys we meet at airports on the way home from vacations. They just might turn into something.

All of my ex beaus have been coming out of the woodwork because OF COURSE they know that a) I finally actually really, really like somebody...and b) because I am like totally unavailable and moving to another country. WTF? But it feels good and is a great reminder that there is something seriously irresistible about me, and that they all come back eventually. Because they do. And 5 of them popped back into my life on Monday alone.

Alright, I need to get up in 6 hours for my training session. I apologize for this entirely self-indulgent nonsense, but I have to get it out first. I promise more interesting things to come. I started this after having a 2-hour conversation with this guy I sat next to at a dinner party. He told me I should be a blogger because he would read it. So, Tom, wherever you are in the world, I hope you find this. Because this Blog's for you.

Ciao, Ragazzi.