Tick-Tock

I have been home for almost a week now, and have been nothing short of busy. I don't know why it always needs to feel like I am racing the clock when I come home, or why I always feel so goddamn anxious, but I guess it's just the price I make myself pay for coming home.

Christmas was great, seeing everyone and playing Catch Phrase, it was a really solid holiday and I am really glad I didn't have to spend it alone. I think that's probably the thing that I have lost sight of over the last week, I have not had to be alone. The problem is there is also a certain level of alone time that I need to have in order to stay semi-normal. With all the visits and trips I haven't been able to really eat and have even only been able to sleep the last couple nights. I know it all sounds like complaining, but it's not, I am over joyed to be spending my vacation here, I think it's just the context of my visit that sometimes makes me feel a bit gray.

I think what it all comes down to is that "home," no longer feels like home. It feels like pulling at straws to stay afloat and get everything done and see everyone before I have to go back to the airport. Counting days, planning, praying that days will pass a little slower, all of that, I hate it. If I was able to relax, and just be on vacation I would be so happy, but I don't think it is even in me to do that. To just chill and let things be what they are.

This is the true definition of mind vomit, and am really only writing this so poor ol' Chung doesn't feel out of the loop.

Hope everyone had a great Christmas, and a great New Year to come.

I'm on vacation, this isn't proof read.

The Breakout

I've been up since two, and now find myself with about thirty minutes until I need to start the cold trek to the train station. I am wearing Harold, a wife-beater, my olive cashmere scarf, a pair of jeans and my well-worn gold loafers. The fondue is packed, as well as all the presents I have been rushing to make and buy. My apartment is a mess, but there are fresh clean sheets on my bed and that's the most important thing to me when I get home from a long flight, a fresh bed to let you know you are home.

Ok, it's time for a deep breath and for me to get ready to go. I really hope this goes well.

Precious Metal

So here we are, two days before Christmas and I don't even feel it. What I do feel is good though, very good. Today was my first day off after a sixty-five hour work week, and tomorrow I need to be up at five to catch my flight home. It all feels pretty odd, and in a weird way scary, seeing how everything is so last minute. At the same time though, it feels nothing short then amazing to be able to go home and see everyone and get out of Switzerland for a bit. Fate threw me for a loop last week, and I am grateful for it.

As I walked over the bridge and into Alt Stadt this morning, coffee in hand, all I could do was feel grateful and good. Grateful the opportunity to be with the right people this holiday season, and grateful for all the people who love me and let me love them, and grateful to have my life where it is.

A couple Christmas shout outs to those who I am grateful for:

• Dr. Sylvia, for footing a bill and finding the strength to tell me that she is excited for me to come home.
• Chef Doug, for saving my ass and bringing me home.
• My sister, Juanita, for being an actual sister.
• Chung, for coming to visit me yesterday, returning the sweater she bought me because it was itchy, and being my one and only Pony.
  
• Skipper, for always giving me what I need.
• My Carney, for always answering the phone whispering, "Hey Girl!" and representing the true meaning of family.

There are others that come to mind, but I don't want to over do it on the blog.

I am hoping to make it home on time and that my flight and connection go over well. I am hoping that being home goes well and resembles more of a vacation then a race against the clock, but mainly I am just hoping that I don't trip up and lose what I have got going.

I wish everyone a happy holiday season, and hope to be able to write a blog or two from home.

Like solid gold...

I Named My Sweater Harold

I'm only writing this in order to not fall asleep and forget to pick up my laundry. It's only Tuesday and I am dying, but hey, you won't hear me complaining (I am so complaining!).

Christmas is days away and yet I can enjoy none of it. Obviously I won't be purchasing the tree I was looking so forward to, but I am sure my parents tree will be fine (although they don't string popcorn and gum drop garland by hand like I do). I will however be naming my parents tree and have decided to christen it, (If you say it fast it sounds like Rubit-crotch-tree), in honor of my little pony, Chung. She has a B+ in English this semester and I am very proud of her.

I bought the most amazing silk-cashmere sweater at Zara on Sunday and for some reason I find myself needing to tell people about it (that, and I still have five more minutes until my clothes are dry). It's a brown cardigan, a grandpa sweater, long, and oh so soft. It's like wearing a snuggle!! I kid you not, I find myself at work think about putting on the sweater and watching some TV, that's my happy thought. I am wearing the sweater as I type and I can tell you it's like a warm soft nuzzle on my skin. All that and only $80!

Ok! My aprons are dry!

I'm treating myself to another Chung-shot! Because it's Christmas...

A Fist Full Of Chung

Between now and Christmas I have one day off. I don't want to keep complaining about how much I am working, but want to use it as an excuse for the lack of blogs. I am in bed at six and asleep by seven, which means I am up past my bed time. I have ten more days to get through, and after that an eighteen hour flight back to California. And I am doing all of this to make sure that I am home on Christmas morning, leading my team to victory at Catch Phrase. Just the thought of it makes me feel good.


Look, I am going to be honest with you, I have nothing to say. I am tired, and really just wanted to post a Chung-Shot. I love Chung's Commie mittens!!

The Golden Window

So plans have changed, I am going home for Christmas. I also find myself newly single and actually feeling all the better for it. It's just not in my character to want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me. I've done that before and it just doesn't fit into my life any more. And really, it's hard to be all too sad when as a consolation prize I get to spend the holidays with people I love and love me. I actually feel fine, and although the first few minutes of the morning are a bit hard, that too will lessen, and soon the whole matter will be nothing but another story to add to my book. There just isn't any point in pining over something that ended along time ago. It's time to move on and I am grateful for the opportunity.

In less then two weeks I will be back home in California, and this time things are going to be a lot different. First off, I plan on spending a little more time with my parents, especially seeing how they paid for the ticket. I am not running around trying to see every part of home before I have to go, I plan on taking it easy, eating breakfast, getting coffee from Chuck's, going to San Gregorio, I am going on vacation. Seriously, things right now, in all consideration of the turn of events, not all too bad. In fact the state of my life, actually pretty good. I am excited to be turning twenty-five, and I am beyond elated to be spending the holidays at home with my family, where I belong. Everything just feels pretty good right now, aside from those few morning minutes.

The blog is going home...

Hello, Russia.

I wasn't going to post today, and I really probably shouldn't, but this blog is a representation of me, and as long as I am aware of the possible consequence of my words, I can post whatever I please.

I should have left the city forty minutes ago but I find my self sitting in Skippper's sweater, slowly starting to breath again. You see, I don't cry often, and when, it's usually more of a whimper then gasping for breath kind of cry. But every now and then, about twice a year, it happens. I cry, I gasp for air, my tears drip on to my shirt, I hurt and then afterwards I feel great. Maybe not great, but definitely better. It feels like a fresh start, that now that things got to their lowest point, that I heard the things I feared the most, everything fell apart, there is now nowhere else to go but up. It's the realization that I'm going to be fine. That my heart will not be the first in history to be broken, and that time and time again I get through the disappointment and hurt just fine and continue to still be loved by the people who know me best. For as shitty as I felt a short while ago, I feel clean and good, and know that I am going to be ok. Love can't feel that good without having the possibility to make you snot-cry all over yourself before the weekend trip you have been looking so forward to.

As the great Lady Chablly once said, "Two tears in a bucket, Mother fuck it."

Not everyone in the world is meant for each other, that I can handle, but I have to be honest, I was pretty damn sure about this one.

Politics, Religion and Love

This is going to be short, I was actually going to take a night off, but Olivia's comment made me think that without this, what would be the point of her going to work?

Last Tuesday night my Grossi (my Swiss grandmother) was sent to the hospital for really bad stomach flu, she is almost eighty-nine years old, and was hit pretty hard by it. Grossi didn't leave the hospital until Friday, and I didn't find out about any of this until a week from when it happened. You can imagin I am pretty fucking pissed.

If you are a regular blog reader you know that I try and visit my grandparents once or twice a month. I lived with my grandparents for nine months before I got my apprenticeship. They lent me money so I could stay in Switzerland, they put up with me coming home drunk at eight in the morning on several occasions, they welcomed my friends into their home and treated them like family, and they have loved me like a granddaughter unwaveringly my whole entire life (long explanation for that one).

I am especially close with Grossi. Aside from being the perfect grandmother, she is an amazing human being. We talk for hours when I visit, sitting around her kitchen table. We talk about politics, religion and love most of the time, but lately she has been prone to want to share my mother's history with me, or at least her version of it. These conversations are gems in their own right and the time I have been able to have with my grandparents is one of the greatest things I have gotten out of being here. Grossi obviously means a great deal to me, so you can imagine my anger towards the lack of notification on my uncle and aunt's part of letting me know she was in the hospital. Sometimes I wish family could just act like family, and not a bunch of self-serving assholes. I guess it wouldn't family then though.

The important thing is that Grossi is back home now with Grossvati, and is gradually doing better. For that I am beyond thankful. With that said, Skipper, it's time for you to start praying.

I'm holding off on Basel for the weekend and heading out of the city to an unknown destination Saturday morning and really glad for a moment to relax.

DO NOT FORGET TO SUBMIT YOUR TREE NAMES! (Carney Anne, don't think you don't have to!)

Oh, and if you are slowly breaking my heart, please stop.

Popcorn And Glitter

Do you ever have those dates you don't forget? The day you got your drivers license, the day you lost your virginity, the day you started school? They always seem to creep up on you too, all of a sudden it's December 5th, and I realize that it was three years ago tonight that I walked out on my last ex-boyfriend. Although, to be honest the only reason why I know that was on the 5th was because I tried out for my current apprenticeship the next day, the 6th. Breaking up with that heartless douche would warrant a date-saver in mind otherwise.

The sixth of December is a big deal in Switzerland, it's the day that "Sami Klaus" (their child-hating version of Santa Clause) goes around to all the homes giving good children mandarins and peanuts (talk about cheap) and stuffing the bad children in a sack which is carried out by three helpers in black face (all very P.C.). As much as I think that Sami Klaus is a wonderfully perfect example of what Swiss people find amusing, I find the holiday a bit too fucked up for my taste (and my taste can usually be pretty fucked up). Frankly, I think I would rather be stuffed in a sack by three young guys then have to accept the "gift" of fruit and nuts.

Here's the thing with the sixth though, since it is a national holiday and a very old tradition, there are a lot of different speciality baked goods that go along with it. Are you catching my drift yet? I am dealing with an INSANE work load and am having to make stuff that I have never made before, on my own, and it's suppose to be sell-able. Just today I made three different types cakes. This might not sound like a lot to you, but believe it or not, we rarely make cakes, maybe once a week and when we do it can range from ten to thirty of a certain type, not just one by one (remember that next time you take a bite of cake, that shit took work, so savor it!). Look, I'm not wanting to bitch about it, but that's exactly what I feel like doing. I have been asked out three times this week for drinks, and and to turn all three of them down. And for what? Laundry, cooking, cleaning, homework, Project Runway, books on tape (The Golden Compass)? I am actually ok with it this way for the moment, I am rarely busy and sometimes it feels good to be to busy to think about the bad stuff. I'm just really looking forward to Dr.Sylvia's visit at the end of January, it will be awesome to be able to have that women bring me cookies while I lounge on the couch watching DanceStar 2007 re-runs.

AND, today is also the day I reveal my Christmas list!!!! Dr. Sylvia, get ready!

1. A purple iPod Shuffle (it MUST be purple)
2. The Shaft trilogy (the original Shaft, not that bullshit they made back in '99)
3. The Superfly DVD
4. Trader Joe's Tar Tar sauce
5. Trader Vic's Mai Tai in a bottle (Check BevMo)
6. A big bag of Resses Pieces
7. The seahorse ornament from Interio (that's all you Chung!)
8. The new horse-bit silk scarf from Gucci's S/S 2008 line.

Oh, and in other fantastic news, I will be buying my tree soon (yes, it is real, people need to stop asking if I have a fake tree. Homie don't play that!) and with the purchase of the tree comes light,s popcorn, superior decorations, and a name! As you might know, last year's tree was named, aptly, "Elena." New year, new name and I am looking for suggestions. Chung already suggested "something Chung-oriented," so I thought everyone should get a say. I want names, so please leave them in the comments. If you read this, I want you to submit a name, ever the person in Henderson, D.C., I don't know who you are, but I want a suggestion.

Taco Tuesdays

Seriously, is it just me, or is this week dragging?

I had school today, nothing special, except that we chose our topics for our "Group Study" project. I had been having trouble with my group, which consists of two other girls, to come up with a theme, considering that they had no ideas, and any idea I put forth was shot down with a look of disdain. So right after having my idea of, "Swiss Modern Art," I asked the girls if maybe they would like thinking of a topic, they came up with "Fashion," "Beauty," and the ever so deep, "Models." Seeing that we were running out of time, and that the project consists of a third of our final grade, I suggested we go with Fashion. So our topic for a fifteen page report on anything we want is, "Women's Fashion Trends: Spring/Summer 2008." I can hear you laughing. Olivia!

Whatever. Please, at least we didn't go with one of the other topics groups have been coming up with such as, body language, the cigarette industry, Aids, teen pregnancy, and drug addiction. At least we will be bringing hues of pomegranate and translucent aquas, monochromatic silhouettes, and satin, lots of python print satin. I don't shit know about teen pregnancy, and could give a shit about body language (I prefer words), but I do know a thing or two about Mood boards and fabric swatches. That Summer at Fashion Camp wasn't for nothing (Tom and I spent hours at Neimans).

Here's where I smell difficulty (smells a lot like dead Easter bunnies), when we went in the computer lab to look for some information on the Internet, the girls next to me weren't visiting the Elle or WWD sites, but the site of a discount warehouse, the Swiss version of Sears. As I printed the season's color palette they were perusing rhinestone Lycra tops for the outstanding price of $12.95. I didn't say much and kept to myself. With time I will try and teach them, but it is going to take time and effort and probably some back issues of Vogue, and even then I can't make any promises.

I asked Sam and Dan what I should cook for dinner tonight and they said tacos. They were right on the money, and I am too full to proof read.

The Chung Shot of the Week, is titled "Fash-Chung." (Get it? Sounds like "Fashion!")

We Are Under The Same Stars

My weekend was pathetic. I had been invited out to this new club and had every intention to attend, I even went out and bought something to wear and picked out the fro. Problem was, I fell asleep at seven, and never woke up. That's just how I like to roll I guess.

This week is looking like a bitch, and it has just begun. I am scheduled to work fifty-five hours this week, and I am leaving Friday night for Basel. I work and I sleep, that's what my life is for the next three weeks until Christmas.

At four this morning Skipper called me and the subject of "happy thoughts" came up. I need a happy thought in order to get through my day. Without my happy thought I have nothing, and can be very unpleasant. My happy thought has to be ready by the time I wake up, the morning hours being the most crucial. If my morning lacks a happy thought there is no point in going on with the day. Previous happy thoughts have been anything from, trips I want to take or have taken, different happy memories, things I might be looking forward to, etc. It helps to have a couple constant happy thoughts though, ones that you can always revert to in emergencies. Some of the constants might be, my friends and family (as cheesy as that sounds, it is one of the best constants), driving Highway 101 and 280, San Gregorio, the Lumina, Berlin, etc. The funny thing is, just writing that list right now makes me feel awesome and good. If you don't have one, think of one. Everyone needs a happy though.

Three weeks. I am going to freak out.

Oh, and get ready, I am going to be posting my Christmas list this week hopefully!!!