In Africa. With my cat.

Do you think your bad handwriting could possibly keep you from getting a job? Didn't think so but 1.) that did pass like a ticker in my brain for about a day after I filled out an application for a restaurant position with the worst handwriting because I had drank an iced coffee right before going and had to use a crappy pen and 2.) it's a prime example of where my emotions are these days.

And according to many different people, having a saga of dreams about my Ex is certainly normal. Um ya, it's normal that I'm kicking his ass for cheating on me or lying to me or just plain leaving me? For five nights I have had dreams that involved my Ex as just a character or the object of my anger and receiver of several blows and hair pulling.

Last night the saga continued in Africa. With my cat. In Africa. With a lion chasing after her and me wrestling the lion to save her. (It was more like a big lion-like cat but whatever, I felt really guilty when I tossed it out the door and it rolled and looked upset.) Anyway my Ex and his freakin sister were there playing a non-interesting role - just hanging out, in my dream. Cuz that's normal. I am the first to admit that I obviously have some serious issues I'm still working through but I like that at least I'm traveling in my dreams.

Which brings me to Africa. One of my aunts, whom I haven't seen in forever, is clairvoyant. Years ago she said that she had a vision of me in Africa with an African baby on my hip. Apparently she also said that my Ex wasn't the man I'd be with but mom didn't want to burst my bubble by telling me this. I've always been inspired by the fact that my aunt saw me in Africa...a place I've always wanted to go but have been terrified about going to. I've always thought that I needed to buck up and get me some tougher skin before I headed to Africa because Africa is Africa and you need tough skin to weather those storms. There's so much humanitarian, HUMAN work to be done in Africa and since I speak French fluently, it would likely be a place I could be useful (at least in some places.) So to have a dream where I'm in Africa was pretty amazing. I must have it on the brain. And now, maybe I could end up with a beautiful African baby in my arms.

And then there's this guy I met four days after I arrived that burst all my stereotypes about Colorado. Before I decided to move, I remember conversations with my mom and others about how I just didn't think the type of guys I would want to eventually (I stress that last word - EVENTUALLY) want to pursue would be living in Colorado. I, like SisteroftheSun, have always thought I'd meet those type of men in the Field - like working in a refugee camp or as an aid worker in some NGO in Africa. But at a Vodka bar in little downtown Denver I met this guy who burst my little image of Denver men.

I thought he was really cute when he sat down; he had a Vans shirt on (skater boys were my thing in high school and really, I have always had a thing for them) and a cute little under the lip goat-te thing that I've always thought rocked on those types of men. I think I even mentioned to my friend jokingly before he even opened his mouth, that I wanted to put him in my pocket and take him home with me. Then in the course of the conversation, he just got better. We discussed world events and politics and he had insights that inspired me. He found out I spoke French and I found out that he did too - apparently he spent time in Geneva. His parents work with humanitarian organizations in Ethiopia (plus plus) and he worked in an NGO in Kosovo after the war in 1999. Mr.CutiePatutie has my degree from my alma mater. And oh ya, he spent seven years AS A CHEF in the town where I used to snowboard and spend summers in the mountains. On top of that, he is planning on heading to Africa in December to find a job in a humanitarian organization. AND he's my age. AND AND - he plays drums in a band...a GOOD band. Good grief Charlie Brown!

And he asked me for my number (never called but asked for it all the same) and invited me to see his band play.

And he works at this restaurant I'm applying for - just by coincidence. I saw him yesterday and realized one more fabulous thing - he has blue eyes too.

I walked away from my encounter with this guy that night thinking a few things, 1.) Even as wonderful as he sounds, I am so far from being ready to be with a man of his caliber and 2.) HE EXISTS.

I have so much work to do on me right now but this guy and what he represents really reminds me that if you ask for what you want in life - put it out there - sometimes, it comes to you.

Now I just need to figure my shit out and I'll be fine. FINE.

Right?

Captainless ship

Perhaps our eyes need to be washed by our tears once in a while, so that we can see Life with a clearer view again. - Alex Tan

Life passes so quickly sometimes, like a wind passing in gusts through trees. One moment you see the leaves rustle, then they stop for a time and then without warning, it rushes in and the whole tree is in a flurry. Like the wind, even if you wish it to work according to your whim, time continues to pass just as it does. People continue to live even if you find it hard to breath or open your eyes. This concept has been difficult for me to really accept these last couple of weeks. There were times when I felt like I was in my own private time warp, like in the movies where everyone around you is moving at lightening speed but you are inching along. Then there have been times I'd catch myself in the middle of a mundane task and it would hit me; all that has happened. It really feels like years since this wind of change began it's steady blowing. Life has a way of quickly changing without you really having any control over it...like the landscape of a river or the shore of an ocean.

Healing can be so confusing. My emotions have me so lost at times that I feel like I'm on a ship with no captain and no shore in site. I wake up, I eat (a bonus these days), I hug my mom, my sister, my friends, my cat and then myself...I cry, I dream (all too vividly about my past, about possible scenarios, of faceless men that take my hand.) In these darker moments, I realize that I'm not going to just get over this. It will pass - this I'm sure of - but it's the how and (more importantly) when I'm unsure of. Not sure of how or even why I should plan anymore, I find myself in a certain kind of inertia that is slowing making me boil over with anticipation and impatience. I know something big is coming. I know my future will include travel, love, adventure, creativity and moments of serenity. I know that sooner rather than later, I will find my way. The path will be clear again and I won't feel so lost inside.

But I do feel that I'm just not ready for any of that yet. Maybe I just need to sit back, drink a martini, enjoy a few laughs and rediscover what it feels like to live life instead of planning for it.