20 Adventures from my 20s: #7

Who was the popular band when you were a kid? The one you dressed up like, made up dances to, worshiped? The one that your friend Amy had all kinds of memorabilia of, including a behind-the-scenes VHS that you were totally jealous of? Did you get to go to their concert?

Me neither.

That is, not until I was 21. Then I went to see...

THE SPICE GIRLS REUNION TOUR

My first concert was New Kids on the Block, and my first CD was Mariah Carey, but nothing can ever erase the magic that was The Spice Girls.

Oh the dances me and Amy performed to them! The afternoons on the trampoline with the CDs playing! We formed our own Spice Girls in (elementary) school and used to print out the lyrics with each Spice Girl assigned to her lyrics and sing it at recess. Taping the music videos off MTV!

On Wednesday, December 5, 2007, I woke up in my house in college. I remember going downstairs and my roommate had written HAPPY SPICE GIRLS DAY on the whiteboard, and wished me a Happy Spice Girls Day to my face. A lot of people were jealous. My boyfriend Jeff was driving me down to LA that night, where I was going to meet up with Pam and her roommate Meera (driving up from San Diego) and Jeff would go hang out with friends until the concert was over.

The concert itself was electric and amazing and I felt all my childhood wishes finally coming true! The weird part was how old we all were! I thought kids liked the Spice Girls... but we were all college and 20-somethings and the only kids in site were Posh Spice's three boys with their dad David Beckham nearby in box seats (true story).

Is it wrong I hope they don't tour again so that ticket and experience don't get devalued?? LOLOLOL.

And on the subject of legends and concerts in my 20s...

Can't leave out seeing Tom Petty at the infamous Beacon Theatre!

20 Adventures from my 20s: #6

When I was accepted to the Bordeaux program, we were told only that we needed to take part in an intensive language program prior to the school year starting, and that we needed to arrive on the campus by August 28. To me, naturally, this meant that I would leave California on the 27th, in order to arrive in Bordeaux on the morning of the 28th.

I was therefore, appalled and amazed to listen to other Californians who showed up, saying they had just come from a few days in London, or a week in Greece. WTF. They just... did that alone? They just visited cities by themselves? Weren't they scared? How did they know what to do? (Ohhh the plight of Americans! For how independent we claim to be, we sure aren't very resilient. After all, what do we do without cars?) At first I chalked it up to the simple fact that they were more brave than I was, and that would just never be me.

As the year crept by, I started to get the hang of things, started to be more confident in my French, saw what a command the English language had over the world  and decided that my goal, before I returned home to the United States, would be the adventure of...

MY FIRST TRIP COMPLETELY AND DELIBERATELY ALONE

Fun fact about my French - on the day I arrived in Bordeaux, a group of students hanging out in our dorms suggested we go downtown, and I agreed. Someone suggested getting calling cards and ducked into a pharmacy that sold them. I remember panicking - wait, what do I do? What do I say? Does the French I learned in school actually WORK? And ended up being so scared, I had someone else ask for it for me. Later when I was alone, I cried over how weak my French was. A few months later, I was entertaining an English-only guest and a waiter came and announced the amount of our bill. My friend said "What did he say?" and I remember answering without a second thought or internal translation: "18.34" I remember being shocked in the moment after that it was a very obscure, not-round number, and that I hadn't translated, and even the waiter stopped to think about it and in English even complemented me: "Yes! Zat is perfectly correct! 18.34!" I was so proud of myself in that moment. Since I'm telling that story I'll also tell you the story of when a group of Americans went out to dinner at our favorite crepe restaurant... I was the last to order and after the waiter left I announced to everyone "Wow, that was the easiest time ordering! I didn't even stumble!" and everyone gave me funny looks and then said "Um, he was speaking to us in English. You ordered in English" HAHAHAHAHA. I love that story too. It just goes to show how completely muddled and stressed your mind gets trying to integrate into a new culture with a new language!

Anyways, back to my trip: I set the goal for myself to take an international trip alone. I wasn't trying to go crazy now, just wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. I ended up deciding on a tour of the Isles, and booked tickets to Edinburgh and Dublin at a time after all my American friends had left (that was a weird feeling) and just before my return flight home.

I was scared the whole time leading up to it. Going to the airport alone was actually kinda nice because I liked being responsible only to and for myself, but the loneliness of it was weird. I remember that on my first flight, I sat next to a kindly Irish businessman who got to talking with me, found out my plans, and gave me a copy of his Irish Times, circling all the great things that were going on in Dublin that weekend. That was the first moment I realized how awesome traveling alone was. When the plane landed, I remember reverting back to fear. What the hell was I doing totally alone? Was I going to be okay? Wow, this week suddenly feels very long.

My trip was about a week, maybe a little longer, and it was the best decision I ever made. If living in a new country opened my mind and horizon, traveling alone took it up even another notch.

First of all, being alone removes your barriers and opens up all the opportunities to get to know the people and the places. People around me were either curious, or took pity, or simply wanted to help. I got lots of free stuff, had tons of conversation, and met so many people in my hostels and on the bus and walking around the cities.

It was weird at first. I remember walking High Street in Edinburgh on my first day alone, and I realized that I had spoken to NO ONE. I had had NO conversation, and I actually panicked that I was going crazy in my head and felt like I needed to talk to SOMEONE about ANYTHING. I both got used to it, and also made friends. I made friends with the Canadian working the hostel front desk. I made friends with a Scottish guy at a bar, and a guy from Phoenix in the common area of the hostel. Because I had such a long time on my trip alone, I was able to be spontaneous. I took the train down to Newcastle in England to visit a friend studying there and took a tour of the Scottish Highlands and got to visit Callandar, Pitlochry, Glen Coe and Loch Ness.

In Ireland I did crazy things and revisited a few places I had been to before (The Guinness Factory) and checked out new places (Temple Bar).

First day alone, wandering around Edinburgh

In Edinburgh, at the Holyrood palace

Train station in Newcastle with fellow Gaucho Katie

Somewhere during the Scottish Highlands tour. Thank God for digital camera timers!

In the town of Loch Ness

Loch Ness itself

River Liffey in Dublin

Some randomass place in Dublin. I was sick, but a photoshoot anyway

I was going to pose but someone walked by so I sat down instead hahaha

An aerial view of Bordeaux along the Garonne!! I was able to see this since I flew
into Biarritz instead of Bordeaux on the return

There were of course some things to get used to, like taking selfies (in an era where this was not at all common), and musing on the sites by myself, and figuring out things alone and having no other opinions to go on, but it remains one of my biggest personal accomplishments that has mushroomed into a habit of fearless solo treks and adventures, and was one of the best experiences of my life, not just my 20s.

I also remember, quite bittersweetly, that when I left Dublin and flew into Biarritz, France, how France felt like home like the time away... just in time for me to leave in a few days afterwards back to the United States.

20 Adventures from my 20s: #5

Twenty-first birthdays for Americans are huge, huge deals. What happens when you turn 21 in a land where your peers have been legally drinking since they were 16? The American friends in France made it a point to celebrate birthdays together, but it did feel a little defeating. At first my friends had agreed to a weekend trip for my birthday, and we were looking at Lisbon or Dublin, but somehow it just wasn't working out, so I resigned myself to a typical, local Bordelais birthday. So imagine what an adventure it was that year to have...

MY FIRST (AND ONLY TO-DATE) SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY OF MY LIFE

I have always wanted a surprise birthday party, maybe just to say that I had one, but any hints I dropped were left on the floor. Ha. I don't even think I talked about wanting one that year. My roommate and I were just planning a dinner at our apartment on the night of my birthday, after which we planned to go out downtown.

A few months prior, two of our friends, a German and a English guy, rented an apartment a few doors down from us. The night before my birthday, they suggested that I come over and see the place, cause I had never seen it before. I told Katie, and she readily agreed. We went up to their apartment in complete darkness, which was frustrating. I was calling out to them but they were saying that their light was broken and just come up.

I stumbled into a room, the lights went on, people yelled SURPRISE! there were balloons everywhere, and then Jens and Rafael both popped open bottles of champagne. It was SO UNEXPECTED and SO AMAZING! I couldn't get over it.

The drink of the night was gin and tonics, and more and more people not only showed up, but then met us out downtown when we hit up bar favorite Tex, and then the outside bar in Place de la Victoire, that for my life of me I can't remember anymore!! (I'm getting old).

Taking the inaugural shot!

Me and my roommate Katie with our gin & tonics

Out at Tex - look how happy Susanne is for me! I just loved her

My two best friends in France - Pam had already gone home in December

El Bodegon!! That was the name of the bar we loved!

Tommy and Phil the Irish

Ahhhh the memories! I still revel in this night. I would be fine if I never had another surprise birthday party again - this one was just too perfect, and a great way to turn a 21st in Europe to still being so memorable and heartwarming.

20 Adventures from my 20s: #4

The holidays while in Europe were gearing up to be a very lonely event. The Americans around me were either going home (very few) or having family come visit them in Europe, so they were retreating to the bigger cities, or to the French countryside. In light of this, I ended up having a far better adventure, and that was:

HOLIDAYS IN GERMANY

Jens invited me to his hometown to spend Christmas with him and his family, and while I accepted cause I preferred that to being alone, I was immediately terrified. I didn't speak any German, and I didn't even really know Jens all that well. I knew I wanted to visit Germany, but that was about it. As the time came closer, I was starting to feel very welcome. Jens started passing on questions from his mother - was I vegetarian? Was there any meat I didn't eat? Did I have any dietary restrictions? They were really gearing up to welcome me.

I was pretty excited, even when I landed in Düsseldorf and found my luggage had been lost by Air France. Jens was there waiting on the other side, had his car, and I was still in a good mood when we stopped for gas. When he turned onto a smaller street and said his house was 2 minutes away, I started panicking. Whyyyyy did I agree to this? I don't know these people, I don't know this language, and now I'm under their roof for almost a week!

It. Was. Amazing.

First of all, Jens' father wore Harry Potter glasses completely unironically, and didn't speak a lick of English. Jens' mother was adorable and tried to use her English as much as possible, but it really wasn't much.

Their welcome was warm indeed. When they learned that my luggage had been lost, they ransacked their house for coupons to a local department store and told Jens to take me out to buy clothes or at least underwear. Jens' father loved to joke around and make fun of me lightheartedly and would speak to me in French or have Jens translate something. I remember him telling Jens to tell me something that turned out to be "Have fun!" before we went out to get inebriated for the night. One morning, we had bad hangovers... to this day it was by far the worst hangover of my life. Jens and I didn't make it down to eat until the afternoon. His father was very aware and didn't care at all. Instead, seeing that food was making me sick to my stomach, he kept putting more and more on my plate and telling me I should eat something, laughing and refilling my water. One evening over dinner, Jens' mother was trying to tell Jens that he should play the cello for us afterwards and it came out "YOU VILL PLAY CELLO" it was very German hahaha.

On Christmas Eve, they let me do everything my heart desired (namely, build a gingerbread house and listen to Christmas music) and they got a Christmas tree for me to decorate, and they included me in everything, and even asked if I would prefer going to a Catholic or Protestant service - Jens' mom was (uncharacteristically for a German) Catholic, and his father was Lutheran, and they alternated the services that they went to each year. I believe we went to the Lutheran church - and I remember someone next to me tried talking to me, probably wishing me merry Christmas and may the Lord bless me and what was I thankful for this year? But at the time, I only knew how to say "I love the poolboy" in German, so I outright ignored them oops. When we went home, Jens' family (his sister Wiebke included) actually showered me with gifts, all of which I have today except for the pocketwarmers I used that winter. I have a book on German culture, 2 breakfast cutting boards, and an authentic stein from the Hofbrauhaus in Munich.

Our gingerbread house. Jens' father came through and added the little white puff on top of the gummy bear to make it more like Santa Claus

 

I have to say that the very thing I dreaded the most (the communicating) ended up being my most favorite thing. Having three languages between us and finding ways to make ourselves understood with them was just fascinating, and it was my first real experience with something like that. And there's nothing like a Christmas in Germany!

This picture was the backdrop of my computer for the longest time. Located in Cologne, this statue is depicting a famous fairy tale - I think it was The Cobbler and the Elves - and I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Storybooks gracing your public - and the Christmas tree too?? Swoon!

I left Jens' house a day or two after Christmas and headed up to Berlin to meet with some friends in order to celebrate New Year's there. Another Santa Barbara student was studying for the year in Berlin and had an apartment for us all to crash at. New Year's Eve in Berlin was outright joyous. I couldn't tell you where the hell we were or what street we were standing on - our host friend took us wherever and we didn't argue - but it was somewhere in the thick of the downtown, and fireworks had a grace period of legality, so they were going off everywhere! People would light them and throw them into the sky and they would ricochet off the skyscrapers. People would even drop them into sewer grates and they would come bursting out of them. Dangerous I suppose, but beautiful.

Notice the firework in the sky?

After midnight, we went to a club that we had tickets for and shut the place down, returning to the apartment at the sun was rising. Honestly these memories are hazy now, but I remember them all being a wonderful night.

For having to miss the holidays away from home and family for the first time in my life, it was the best way to do it.

20 Adventures from my 20s: #3

As if it wasn't crazy amazing living in Bordeaux, France (in the most dreamy, storybook apartment in the centre-ville above a flower shoppe, across the street from a patisserie, with rooftops and church bells out my windows next to the fireplace in my bedroom), every day in France was a new adventure. I spent almost every waking hour interacting with non-Americans and traveling throughout Europe. The chance to integrate into a culture rather than pass through on vacation truly changes your life, your perspective, the way you see the world and see humanity and shifts your decision-making process. Or at least, it has the ability to, and I think it did for me. (I watched some very stubborn and arrogant Americans stomp through that year unhappy and irritable and return home in a huff). However, the next adventure was when it really hit me that I was LIVING IN EUROPE and that was due to the...

ROAD TRIP TO SAN SEBASTIAN, SPAIN

A German friend had driven to Bordeaux for the year, and therefore, had his car with him. My roommate Katie and I threw a small housewarming party one night, and I got pulled aside and asked if I would like to join two Germans and another American girl on a quick weekend jaunt to San Sebastian for the weekend, and I immediately accepted.

We left first thing in the morning, and we drove down the French coast, into Basque territory. Crossing into Spain was a little uneventful, but I remember coming into the San Sebastian area and just how mesmerizing it was, because it was so distinctly different from the dreamy, classical France. We wandered about the town for a little bit: checking out sites and restaurants, and I'll never forget passing through a small square on what was clearly siesta - a couple laid down passed out together on the grass, right next to their stroller, with the baby sleeping soundly as well. Adorable!

San Sebastian is famous for something like having the most bars and clubs within a square mile, and it was no joke. We found a hostel right in the thick of it. We took our own siestas and went and hit the clubs, however, Patrick and Kirsten ended up calling it a night early on. That was the night that Jens and I stayed up until the sunrise, bar hopping and partying with all of Europe that was there, me having to do to the bathroom so bad that he guarded me while I peed on the beach. I remember that while Jens and I were teaching each other to count to 10 in German and Romanian, and watching the sun rise over the bay and seeing a double rainbow come out, that it totally hit me like a brick to the face: I AM LIVING IN EUROPE. My weekdays and weekends will be filled with European things and visiting European places and speaking European languages! I was LIVING here, here where I spent my whole life learning about in history, seeing in the movies, studying in my textbooks! I like to believe that I didn't take a single thing for granted from that moment on.

When the sun was fully up, Jens and I went back to the hostel, stopping for pastries for breakfast, and getting a good 2 hours of sleep before we had to wake up, check out, explore the city some more and then head back up to Bordeaux. I was actually living my dream, and from that very specific moment, it could actually grasp that concept too.

20 Adventures from my 20s: #2

My years being 20 and 21 were one big ball of adventure, so prepare for those to come raining down on you in the next few days. But, I would say they would be as proportionate to my 20s as how much it affected and grew me (aka a lot). This adventure would be:

SAYING THE BIGGEST GOODBYE OF MY LIFE.

I applied to study abroad without a second thought. It was like I always knew that I would do it, I was just annoyed having to wait so long, and as soon as I could, I did. I got accepted March 13 (the day before my 20th birthday) and then had to wait until August to leave to start the program.

It didn't hit me until a few weeks before, that I actually had never been away from home for even longer than a month. My college was a 3 hour drive away, and while the central coast was certainly a new land than the Inland Empire, and it all felt very new... I still was driving home at least once a month for school breaks, or for a mental break, or to celebrate something with my friends still in the area. And now I was going to have to say goodbye for almost a YEAR!

I was so excited to go to France, that the excitement was overriding everything. I remember my flight was out of LAX on August 27, 2006, and that I spent the entire night before out with the guy I was seeing, and didn't get home until well into the early hours of morning. When I woke up on the couch with my suitcase only half-packed in front of me, my cat Belle was laying protectively over it. I told myself she didn't want me to leave. I started to get really nervous, but I channeled it into excitement. I still remember the last picture me and my sisters took outside of our house before we all got in the car to head to LAX. All I was, was nerves nerves nerves. [CANNOT FIND COPY - SRY]

I remember Belle went on the lawn and sat with her back towards me. I knew that she knew, and it made me sad. She was old, and I was worried that she would die while I was away (joke was on me - she still lived another 5 years!!) and I couldn't believe I was saying goodbye to her for so long! I think that was the only time in my life that I was able to do that guy mind trick and just file it away instead of feeling the emotions.

I absolutely remember the moment, off the 105 freeway, when I saw the sign that said LAX - NEXT EXIT and that was when my stomach completely dropped, and panic and fear took over. (As a matter of fact, that sign still gives me flashback memories whenever I pass it - I think that's how traumatic it was, that it triggers me like that).

There was nothing to do about it, especially because everyone else was acting melancholy and I couldn't take on their emotions because I had my own, so I started snapping at people. I was really scared. I have never gone somewhere so foreign, for so long, and so alone. It was scary to take the first steps into the security line... and then go through where I couldn't go back anymore.

I've said similar goodbyes since... like when I moved to New York, for instance. The feeling was still sad, but this time it was familiar. I'll probably always compare it to this first goodbye, which is funny now, because a year is nothing, but it was a big deal when I was twenty.

I read a quote years later that was something to the effect of "Saying goodbye is the hardest thing in the world... until it's not anymore." Whatever it was, it was completely true. The hardest thing is to say goodbye... after that, it's over, and the future is all adventure.

20 Adventures from my 20s: #1

For my first adventure:

TURNING TWENTY.

My turning twenty in and of itself was a fun memory. First of all, I was a sophomore in college at UC Santa Barbara. I lived in Isla Vista, in a three bedroom house with 5 other girls, my roommate was a senior named Amanda who I loved and still admire. She has the most pure heart of gold ever but still loved some good mischief, and I took pride in occasionally getting her riled up.

My roommates that year on Halloween. It was my genius idea to do Clue!

Me and Amanda!

In leading up to turning 20, I was lamenting about it to Amanda, who at the time was 21 and going on 22. I told her I was getting old and I distinctly remember telling her "But now I won't be able to sing Teenage Victory Song by Weezer!" but Amanda assured me that your 20s were way better than your teens.

While on the UC quarter system, my birthday always fell during finals week, which as you can imagine, was not cool. People were either stressed and needing to study (myself included) and/or done with finals and already bouncing out to maximize their spring breaks. Oh but that year, Amanda was willing to help me celebrate. Honestly, I have no idea WHERE we got the idea from, but we stayed up til midnight the night before, and then we decided to go chalk up the school campus. This included us making chalk outlines of ourselves and writing HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIKI everywhere. Not only was it gloriously satisfying, but the next day I actually heard people talking about it everywhere! "Who is Kiki?" I even had a dinner later in the week and heard my waiters at Chili's (who were likely all UCSB students) talking about the Kiki birthday chalk along the Arbor!

That whole adventure made me realize not only that I had so many great friends, but it really encapsulated the whole college spirit of being able and willing to do such dumb things at all hours of the night, and I owe a lot of that to the UCSB campus and Isla Vista itself, whose very nature and proximity always lended itself to such crazy and memorable hijinx.

20 Adventures from My 20's

I truly have not been, and remain, unworried about entering my 30s. It really doesn't bother me at all. Maybe it will when it happens? But I haven't cared. My 20s were so full, so exhausting, so lively. Pam and I talked about it once and we were musing about how we felt as though we had done so much and were so exhausted, we felt as though we were already 30, so the fact that we weren't just felt like free 20s!

So, in honor of the last 20 days of my 20s, I will be posting 20 adventures/memories/lessons from my 20s before I start in on the next decade. And it starts tomorrow!

Coronamageddon

The 91 shut down this weekend, and with it... all of my hopes and dreams.

That is to say, that I did absolutely nothing this weekend. But let me start at the beginning.

On Friday I went to a conference in San Bernardino at the CSUSB campus. You know, it actually is beautiful... set in the desert amongst the foothills, etc. It's just that the nearby demographic was... hmm... intimidating. The funniest part was that we were reviewing protocols for transferring international students between institutions, and look what they used as an example...

Not only was this my former employer, it was the San Diego office. This was my exact job, signing forms like these. That email they blocked out could have been mine! (Or Chrishon's, who had the job before me - and I texted her and Jayna with this craziness). Ahh the memories!

While I was listening to conversations on international student services whilst sucking down cup after cup of coffee (the whole coffee bar even included flavored syrups... let's just say I got everyone's money's worth... even though this meeting was free LOLOLOL) my mother dropped by my house to pick up her camping supplies and sent me this text of my beeeeeautiful little kitty!

The meeting was over by 2:30 and I was free (score!) and I was supposed to get my hair done, but my hairdresser was sick. So I replaced that with some good ol' Trader Joe's grocery shopping. I must have gone wild that night because I don't remember what else I did.

On Saturday I worked on a bunch of projects, and then went and got my taxes done which ended up taking close to 3 hours UGHHHH. I was too irritated when I got home to do anything else. I knew I needed to clean my apartment, but was waiting to get that "wind" of motivation to do it. It never came, and I was annoyed at how dirty it was, so I forced myself to clean. It wasn't a fun cleaning... the kind where you're in a good mood and put on music and enjoy it. I was in a bad mood and didn't feel like cleaning and everytime you clean one thing, you notice there's another thing that needs to be cleaned too. But, I was in a fabulous mood when it was over and my place was so much cleaner!!**

**My apartment was built in the '30s. It will never be actually clean, just cleaner than normal.

As a reward for the cleaning, I allowed myself to go to Target, and can you believe I couldn't really find anything I wanted? I just got boring stuff on my list, like new Burt's Bees chapstick.

Today there were plans to go to LA (via the 60 fwy) for AJ's birthday lunch, but family members ended up getting sick and it was canceled. I was secretly relieved (sorry Ayj!) cause I didn't want to drive out there and figured the traffic would be very unpredictable with the 91 down. I watched a lot of Daria, and then work on getting my porch in order. I swept it and re-planted and watered and made a new batch of hummingbird food for the feeder (which had been out since last summer) and I finallyyyyyy put bird seed in the bird feeder my neighbor gave me a yearrrrr ago and hung that up too. Then I opened all the doors and windows, put on Florence + the Machine and got to finishing a painting from almost TWO YEARS AGO. I know because on the back of it I wrote Started: March 28, 2014. I dug up the progress photos I took all that time ago... look at the progression!

BTW, it is modeled after a picture I took in New Orleans while on the soul cleanse roadtrip home from NYC with Jayna, at the gate of the Place d'Armes. First I finished my painting session with this:

And then after researching linguistics while watching Inception (seriously, the best movie in the entire universe, it gets an award for Best Movie in Kristin's Lifetime) I got a second wind and finished it up with Rudy on.

I'm starting to find that I really enjoy painting, and a lot of it is due to the fact that I don't feel particularly good or talented, I don't expect it to ever become much, so it really is just for fun, just for me, completely relaxing and leisurely, no undue stress or negative talk or high standards. I have no idea what to do with the painting now, but I told AJ I might try to sell it to an eye dr in exchange for free LASIK.

And I got this picture of my kitty sleeping while I was working on my painting.