Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The Raisin Version

In one of my favorite blogs to read, Natalie Lloyd always includes what she's listening to and a quote or lyric she is liking at the moment. In full belief that imitation is indeed flattery and not cheating, I love the idea and think I might implement it here...in a Maria sort of way, if you will. So.

Listening to: Sports Center's Top 10 plays of the day. Comes with the territory of being married to Aaron, friends. :)

Lyric that has been nagging me lately (in a good way): "...because my comfort would prefer for me to be numb; and avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become..." -Brooke Fraser

I got back to Phoenix on Saturday from Myrtle Beach. I got...a bit of a tan. Trust me, I used sunscreen - I am quite terrified of the sun, after living in Arizona for 9 months. Nevertheless, I believe I may have inadvertently become the raisin version of Maria.
Oops. But anyway, I also bring back from Myrtle Beach fresh perspective... and a nervous belly.
I had such a great week with my family... we were all bummed Aaron couldn't make it, but he will come next year. But even without my Brown Eyes, It was so cathartic to be around my dad, my momma, my sister, her awesome hubby, and my sweet brother all at ONE TIME. (And Frank! Frank is brother Joey's friend.) We napped in the sun every day, ate lots of cookies and other things that don't quite qualify as real food, yet are sinfully delicious (read: Zebra Cakes) and played card games.

I went running along the beach a few mornings, too. On Thursday, after my run, I even wandered over to the pier and happened to see a huge family of dolphins giggle and jump their way down the Carolina coast...it was so lovely. One of those moments that was unplanned and unforeseen but so graceful. If we could always remember how joyful it feels to actually live in one moment - not thinking about the moment before it or the one that's coming - we would do it all the time, dont you think? But we forget too quickly.

Being on vacation seemed like only a moment itself, and now I am back in Phoenix. This is what gives my belly the nervous feeling. It's not a foreign sensation - it is exactly the one I had when Mom dropped me off in Colorado by myself a few years ago to study for 12 weeks at the Focus Institute; and the same one I had when I was 8 and she dropped me off at Girl Scout camp for a week. It is not a pleasant feeling. It is a panicky, "wait-where-is-she-going?!"- feeling. A "but-i'm-so-far-away!" feeling. And it makes me physically sick to my stomach - and I mean that literally. I won't go into details, friends. But it is that kind of a weird, steady panic.

Don't get me wrong - I am with my husband; the love of my life and the guy I would follow to Pluto if I had to, because he is my husband and I love him, and I promised I would. And we have an adorable little puppy and a nice, unassuming little life right now in Scottsdale, Arizona, and that's just the way I like it. I do love the Hispanic culture here, and the beautiful mountains, and Phoenix's lovely downtown. But the truth is I really can't stand being away from Mom and Dad anymore. It just doesn't work with me. I wasn't built for it. Things are too different out here. Dirt replaced grass, posh apartment buildings and strip malls replaced decades-old brick courthouses and a ceratin... west-coast-ness? (insert: snobbery) replaced humility. I know that's a generalization, but you must trust me when I say the culture in Arizona is night and day to Ohio. I am not lying. One is not neccesarily better than the other. But one is most certainly more Maria than the other.

I used to fancy myself someone like Belle from Beauty & the Beast - wanting adventure in the "great wide somewhere;" and not one of those ignorant townspeople who were content to just bake pastries all day. (That's what French people do, right? That and sing all the time, in unison?) But now, I don't think that skipping town makes you sophisticated, in the same way that sticking around doesn't make you pitiful. Why did I ever make that assumption? You can be lazy and unadventurous in the town where you grew up or you can be lazy and unadventurous 3,000 miles away. And you can dream big and do big things 3,000 miles away but you can do them next door, too.

All that being said, Aaron and I have talked about it, and it is not time for us to leave Arizona yet. We both know that, and so we stay. But we will be back one day, Ohio. We have come to a little adventure out here, but we will be back. And we will have a big blue house with white trim, a basketball hoop in our driveway and a comfortable proximity to Mom and Dad. Because my belly can't take it anymore, and because I was a fool to think I always knew exactly how I wanted my life to look. Jon Krakauer might make fun of me, but then again, he never got a Papa Fisher hug. And I know which one of us is missing out.

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