On Roosters, Summer Vacation, and a Milestone Birthday

"When the rooster crows on the dung heap the weather stays the same, or it changes." - German proverb

I'm home! I'm home! My travels are done, school is officially out, and the days stretch open before me. The first thing I have to do is process the past two months worth of photos from Paris, Luxembourg, Brussels, Florence, and Athens, and then...it's Resume Time! I've got to dust that old thing off and start sending it around town. I'll admit I'm thrilled about entering the work force again. I'm sure that will wear off the first time I'm called into my boss's office about 'my overwhelming enthusiasm and volume,' but for now, I feel like the world is my oyster! What shall I do?? Where shall I apply?? Someone, quick, tell me.

In other news, D-Day approaches! On June 6, I turn the Big 3-0. I have to admit I'm not being very graceful, very 'Life Just Gets Better with Age' about it. I really thought--back when I was too young to think 30 was actually going to happen--that I would bound into this decade, breaking that winner's tape, flushed with the victory of wisdom and experience and ready to take on new challenges. But no, it turns out I'm not that mature. Immaturity is something I can still admit to in my 20's and receive some level of grace. As a 20-something, one is still considered somewhat naive, and decisions that don't look too far ahead are tolerated. But now! I will be in my 30's. No longer will women flap their hands dismissively at me, saying, 'Of course you say that! You have all the time in the world, you're so young!' And no longer will men laugh, 'Ahhhhh, I remember that energy. Now go refill my coffee, only one sugar this time, and then fax this report.'  Nor will I automatically get the ignorance-of-youth free ride anymore. From now on when I'm ignorant, I'm just ignorant (though maybe I've always been just ignorant and will just now be facing the music). At 30, one is expected to be a mature, responsible human being, with a real career and a ticking clock and a purse that has a moisturizer with sunblock in it. There can be no more 'When I Grow Up' procrastination. Nobody likes to see a 35 year old still talking about some dream he'll fulfill when he gets big. 

On the bright side, it will be nice to start lording all my lofty experience over all those 20-somethings, gifting them with the same dooms-day predictions I was privy to: 'You won't be able to eat like that forever!'  and 'One day you'll break your leg doing that!' and 'Just wait until you get your first chin hair!' 20-somethings love that. It totally sinks in and makes a difference. I'll also say annoying things like, 'I just can't drink that much caffeine anymore,' and 'I need shoes with more support' and 'I can't sleep a wink with that fly in the room!' So that's exciting. I've also been practicing my 'Why are movies so LOUD these days??' moan for next time I'm in a movie theater, digging out my earplugs. 

I guess there IS a lot to look forward to, now that I think about it.

Now if you'll excuse me, I should go lie in the sun. I only have four  more days to flippantly damage my skin. I'm just so young; I don't know any better. Premature aging and skin cancer are but strange threats on a distant horizon. You have to forgive me.

Big hugs and so much love,
Essss

p.s. Let me know if you need my address for my birthday present.

If I were aging in Paris, I'd just become more dapper. And discover an uncanny ability to complete a crossword.

FWHA!

Hi friends!

Between recent travels and a mass of school projects due (oh happy semester end!), it's been a bit crazy in Rona-world as of late. And there's a lot to share with you: thoughts on and photos of Paris, Luxembourg, Brussels, and Florence, and an upcoming visit from a San Francisco girlfriend that I am very excited about. But since today is not that day, I thought I would at least come say hi. 

Hi.

This is how I'm gonna be dancing next week when everything's finished.

I hope you're doing well!

Big hugs,
Essss

p.s. On the title of the post: this is the noise I have been making today when stretching/leaving a thought process/getting up for a new cup of coffee/writing a spontaneous blog post/etc. It comes out like a vehement sigh and I think it is the sound of taking a break. FWHA.

Hugs again,
Essss

Life's a jolly holiday with Mary

Have you ever mixed up the date your taxes were due with the date of the Oklahoma City bombing and thought you had until the 19th to get them done? Yeah. Me, neither. Except maybe something similar to that just happened, so I didn't do my taxes last week because I thought I could do them this weekend. And then when I realized what happened, I shot out of bed in a blind panic (realizations like this can only happen at six a.m. on a Saturday), my heart racing, the old familiar self-reprimand of 'Sha-roooooo-NA!' going through my head. But when I went online to see if I could file an extension, I found out that due to some obscure Abe Lincoln holiday in Washington D.C. last Friday, I now have until Monday to turn it all in!! That's right. MONDAY! How lucky am I?? My hide has been saved by emancipation. As usual.

Today I'm going to put a pretty picture in my blog before any other picture because facebook only shows the first picture when my blog is posted, and when that picture is a mangy cat or a really tiny picture of San Francisco, it ends up looking a bit rough. So here's one to make my blog look warm and welcoming:

Doesn't this remind you of Bert's painting in Mary Poppins where they go skipping around on carousel horses? That Bert! These trees are all the rage in Engrand-town in the spring. They make me happy.

This weekend is a manic birthday weekend--but not mine, which is lame. Other people's. There's a birthday party tonight at a place that I keep calling The Golden Egg, but that's not really the name, it's just what I call it because I can't remember the real name. But calling it The Golden Egg makes me crave wontons and there probably won't be wontons there. I should just skip the party and go out for Chinese food. 

And then there's another one tomorrow. Again, not mine, and again, not involving Chinese food. Ridiculous, isn't it? People are so selfish.

But let's bring this back to my birthday, which I think we can all agree is what we really care about. My big 3-0 is coming up in June. D-Day, to be specific. I don't know what I'm going to do for it yet. I thought--five years ago, when I was living in SF--that I'd be doing this huge huge thing and it would be Super Magic Wonderful Good Times but now that I'm here in London, I'm at a bit of a loss. I should make this London thing work for me, and I don't know, maybe check on Wimbledon or horse racing dates or something. Then I can dress up and wear a big hat. That would be wonderful.

On a plus side, my friend Cassandra's 30th is in May and as a joint-celebration, she's flying out here! She'll already be gone by my birthday, but we'll have so many mini parties while she's here I'll have a nice stockpile to draw from.

And today, as a pre-birthday present to myself, I'm going to visit one of my favorite local shops and fondle all the silk flowers. You can never start celebrating too soon.

Big hugs and happy Saturday,
Esss

I'm pretending like pictures of the beach will make me feel less anxiety.

The beach at Land's End

Labrynth overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge

Cliffhouse Baths ruins

Lost in the fog

It's been a crazy few weeks around here--there's been a trip to North Carolina, a dozen books read while I try to take advantage of dwindling weeks left in the best library system in the world, a visa application, and now a visa wait. Do keep your fingers and toes and rosaries crossed for me. The next three weeks are going to be both ridiculously slow and nauseatingly fast--so much to pack, so many people to see, so many more photos to take. And then if my visa gets denied, a home to find. Fourteen days and counting until I know.