...Going...

"AFOOT and light-hearted, I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me, leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune—I myself am good fortune;
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,	5
Strong and content, I travel the open road.
The earth—that is sufficient;
I do not want the constellations any nearer;
I know they are very well where they are;
I know they suffice for those who belong to them.	10
(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens;
I carry them, men and women—I carry them with me wherever I go;
I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them;
I am fill'd with them, and I will fill them in return.)"

~ Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road

Go...

So, let go,let go

Jump in

What are you waiting for?

~ Frou Frou

...I leave the day after tomorrow. I have no way to play music. That means I'll have to work on playing my penny whistle, I guess, like the week I couldn't afford to pay the power bill and all I did was play guitar by candlelight and cook macaroni on a camping stove in the living room with Connor. I have no time to buy clothes. I guess I'll have to wear my own...

...I leave the day after tomorrow...and I haven't said goodbye. I miss my cell phone. I miss my friends more. I don't have any more time or words to say to them...Many of them, I think are or will be angry because I have not had the time to say goodbye...

...I am leaving the day after tomorrow...I am terrified. Freedom is scaring me. Not hunger or danger or nowhere to sleep or back problems. Freedom.

And...oh, my God...I'm leaving the day after tomorrow...

Today, Walt Whitman is saving my life.

3 days left, and...What was your name?

My mind is gone. Kaput. (Is that really how you spell that?) I am anxious. Soooo anxious. I hhave one more day left at my job after this and my patience is wearing thin--not the job itself or the people there, but the people on the other end of the phone I am answering...I like to have the best of faith in people; no matter what. I really do. But a few of the TA's who call us some of the most unbelieveable people in the world: rude, insulting, and sometimes just plain ignorant and - apparently - unintelligent. I thought pleasing people in the theatre audience was hard. Man! (I apologize for letting off steam...but I must not be too sorry, because I'm not going to delete it...). ;)

...In any case, I am fidgeting in my seat. In just a few days, I have completely gone from nervous, unsure, and terrified to-- "ahhhh! I can't wait! Get me the hell out of here!" ...Or almost... I am going to miss Michael, very much. And my friends. And my family... I had some friends over the other night, and made everyone dinner to say goodbye. And as Annie-- one of my best of friends-- was leaving, she kept hugging me (now, I never object to hugs, especially Annie's because she gives particularly good hugs), but, while she was doing this, I kept thinking, "it's ok. You don't have to make such a big deal about it; it's just a goodbye, it's not like I don't love you anymore, or something." It wasn't until about 10 minutes after she left, that it suddenly hit me, "Oh...my god...I don't actually know when I'm gonna get a hug from her again...oh, no..." Not good. I have a tendancy to be a bit slow on the pick-up. Even a bit more than a bit slow. I'm going to miss her so badly, it's aweful.

The same thing keeps happening with Michael: almost every morning I have woken up to him kissing my forehead, or holding me. It's all well and good for us to say, "oh, eventually, hopefully, if we are still right for each other when we see eachother again, we can fall in love all over again!" But...I never realised how much I actually love him, until this last month or so...it doesn't mean that everything works all the time. But I love him. I never saw how much he actually cares about me, until recently-- knew it, instinctively, but didn't get it. And I'm leaving in 3 days. For a very long time...

...And, in truth, I don't know that I will be coming back to Portland. It's just a place. How many otherplaces are there to experience...although, I suppose, that's exactly why I'm leaving now...


I keep wanting to buy the chocolate coffee thing that miss Young makes special for me downstairs...but it costs $5 (including tip-- never skip on tip because you can't 'afford it', by the way! Yes, this is coming from a waitress, but it's true. If you can't afford to tip, you can't afford to buy it. Period.) and $5 is another day of camping. So I have to replace it with boxed mashed potatoes-- helped out by some dill-mustard thrown in to cover up the god-aweful taste, and a $0.75 soda if I absolutely must have caffiene...I hate soda. (Except root beer...but, of course, they don't have it). I feel good, though, for every dollar I do not spend. And that continues to make me save. I thought I had lost that ability some time ago.

I am, however, wondering what to do about Sallie Mae... I had been given a $2500 loan years ago when I was in college. I was stupid. I didn't pay attention to it-- didn't think I would end up spending only 1 year at Cornish-- but I did. And, though I half-assedly tried to contact them 3 or 4 times over the last few years, I never got very far. Well...one week before I am about to leave on my 6 month- 2 year journey, with no income and, "no ties to anything," guess who should come a-kocking... well... duh. I know when I have been stupid, and I have been spineless and stupid in this matter-- hoping that, if I didn't say anything, maybe it would just go away. Now, I have almost enough to pay off the whole thing right now. I do. If I choose to give them all the money I have earned over the past...however many months (It feels like years) of working 3 jobs every week, and saving as much as I can and selling all my possessions... I would be free. It would feel so good to realize I don't owe ANYTHING to ANYONE... (except, of course, the astronomical fee I probably owe to the Seattle Public Library in over-due book fines... or the $200 hospital bill that the nurse told me I wouldn't be charged mecause of my miniscual income, but they charged me anyway, and I convinced myself I couldn't afford to pay...hmmm...). But, if I give them every last dollar I have, I will arrive in London without a dollar to my name, except my father's money (which I do not want to use, except in barest necessity) and will most likely be turned away at the gate for insufficient funds...

Thereau says, "If you are ready to leave behind father and mother, and wife and child and friends, and never see them again,—if you have paid your debts, and made your will, and are a free man, then you are ready for a walk."

Well, I thought I was, but the truth will out, no matter how you run or hide or pretend, and pay the bills I must. My friends said, "oh, it's not that much, just let it go to collections. You'll be fine in 7 years..." But it will not go to collections, but my parents, and that is something I refuse to let happen. Not to mention, I would be breaking my word-- when one signs their name, they make a promise, and whether I took it seriously or not, I made a promise. You cannot be someone of your word if you can vouch on any promise...I believe. And I'm trying hard to remedy those things in my life that i have shoved for so long under the bed and into the depths of the closet worthy of House of Leaves. So...the only thing I can think of is to call up Sallie Mae and throw myself on their mercy. Let them know I intend to pay. Let them know that my parents cannot. Let them know that i will have no income, but will find a way to honor my will. If they will accept as little as $10-25/ month, I can tighten my belt until I come home, and find work wherever it lurks...unfortunately I fear it will be under-the-table sort, and that rubs me a bit the wrong way...I do not wish to be deported. However, I refuse to give up my journey, and I firmly believe that where there is a will, there is a way. I have, indeed, accomplished great things, when i have given into my stubborn nature, and refused to take no for an answer... we shall see.

I have almost everything I need now-- I better, since my departure is only days away. I must, however, get to a phone asap, or I will spend my first nights in NYC on the street, instead of the welcoming arms of my friends. It does not do to call up one month and say, "hey! I'm coming to visit! Can I stay with you?" And then not speaking to them again until 2 months later, when you show up on their doorstep. This communication thing is the bain of my existance, and therefore, I am sure, the most important lesson in my life to embrace...

Also clothing... for as much as I love clothes, I hate buying them. I hate the money; I hate the fact that nothing is ever remotely in my size. Bt there's nothing but to DO it. And so, I shall...although when, I have no idea.

There is NO time left. Really. There are at least 10 people who want to see me, 10 more I want to see and haven't contacted yet, and 10 people I need to call and have 2-hour long conversations with that I can't...or don't want to... afford. (Exasperated sigh!) So at the moment, in these remaning few hours, my life is nothing but chaos, anxiety, sleep-deprevation, and caffiene...

But, one way or another, I leave on Saturday, just before midnight...and God, goddess, spirit, or earth-- help me. And I will help myself.

Hot Air...

This is in a bit of a different vain than my other posts have been, but I think it is necessary and something that has bothered me for quite some time. I hope that at least a few people read this and respond, but I don't even know if there is anybody out there listening. In any case:

I read this article ( http://lifestyle.msn.com/your-life/bigger-picture/articlewow.aspx?cp-documentid=9299812&GT1=32001) today.

It is a discussion, of sorts, between a number of famous women, that stemmed from a family expecting their 18th child and whether or not their should be a limit. Most of them said one thing or another about over-population, people's rights to as many children as they like, and the subject of using up all the planets resources. This makes me angry. It's not that I do not agree that we need to do something about overpopulation. Or that I am unaware of the desperate and horrifying condition that our wildlife, our forest, our waters, inded, our entire planet (and therefore, even our universe) is in. Quite the contrary: I am infuriated and ashamed and terrified by it. You think that it will end with our planet? If our planet is destroyed, do you think that is the end of that? My God! When has a large disaster never affected 20 million other things around it? If our planet violently disappears, have you ever thought how that could throw things out of balance in the solar system? If it affects our solar system, could it not also affect others? (But of course, why should we care if we won't even be around to see it, right?)

Now, I am well aware I am speaking in total ignorance. I have no idea in the realms of physics, sience, math, evolution, whatever, if anything will change if we just disappear, taking our planet with us. Why does it really matter, anyways? As long as we get what we want until we die, why should it matter? Right? But really now. I am getting off track. What frusterates me-- and I am full guilty of this as well-- is the talk. All the hot air and soapboxing and what have you. All the righteous liberals who 'care' for the world...in words. It's not the ignorant bastards who make me angry. The people who say, what problem? Or, 'Oh, that's just a bunch of B.S. There's nothing wrong with our planet; trees will grow back. Oil is more important." These people are ignorant, but they are upfront about it. No. What angers me, after growing up in a liberal family, spending my life surrounded by people in the theatre-- most of whom are very 'earth conscious' and also liberal-- and currently living in Portland, Oregon-- hippy-town; recycle-ville-- are all these people who recognize the problem, will spend hours talking about how the fundamentalists should wake up and go to...well, wherever it is they go, and talk. And talk. And talk. And taaaallllk.

We talk. That's great. How many people that you know, who worry about over-population chose to have kids? How many people that you know, who will spend 2 hours on the oil problems and the Bush administration, still drive their cars to work? I am one of these people, too. (No, I don't have kids or drive a car, but I have many other sins to the survival of this planet, that I willingly commit when no one is looking). I am a great talker, too-- as you can see. The point, my friends (whoever you are) is not to make anyone wrong. The point is, it's all well and good to say that the enemy drives an SUV and goes to church with their anti-abortion flags heald high, and leaves their computer and lights on 24/7... but what are you doing about it? Oh, you recycle...good for you. What next? Oh, you ride your bike? Very good. It is. ...so what? Unless we stop ALL cars (which, by the way, were invented to solve the problem of horse manure filling the streets), find NEW ways of communication and lighting our evenings and, whatever else, and learn to find an agreeable solution to the number of people multiplying in this world (that begins with ourselves), we are all doomed. So what are you going to do about it?

A lot of people have already given up-- saying it's inevitable that we will all parish, and what does it matter, cuz we desrve it, right? The animals and trees, etc. if any survive, will grow back. And they'll be better off without us. Well congratulations. Giving up is the easiest of choices. God forbid someone cared enough to get their hands dirty, instead of giving up or spending even 2 more minutes talking...

We are, supposedly, a species above all others because we can think right? Our brains and some guy up in the clouds saying, "I choose you, Peekachu" makes us better and smarter than every other species on the planet, right? (Note: none of the other, 'less intelligent' species are the ones destroying the plant...but we're smarter...hmmm...). Well, fine. Then let's use some grey matter, eh?

I (little old me, of no fame and very little consequence) am declaring a challenge. To all the talkers out there. Myself included. Two months should be sufficient time, I think. So, lets say...October 31st? By October 31st, anyone who has ever read this blog, must come up with 3 ideas; 3 good and original ideas. Ideas on what we can do now to save the planet. It's that simple. Oh! and how to promote them and present them, too. I don't mean replacements for things we already have; I don't mean-- make a law that everyone must recycle-- let's try a little harder, ok? I mean stopping, I mean a real change: let's think outside the box, and then outside the area around the box. Let's stop the so-called 'inevitable' destruction of planet earth and the human race and every other species in this world, except the cockroaches.

Let's remind the world what we are known for: genius. So, here's the:

CHALLENGE:

1. To come up with 3 good ideas that the world can put into practice immediately that will aid in the rescue of the planet, the human race and all other species of plant and animal life in this world.

2. Along with these 3 ideas, there should be included at least 1 name or organization to present these to, who will-- if won over-- be able to help to get the ball rolling and the is ideas out there.

DEADLINE:

1. On the 31st of October, 2008 all entries should be submitted. By November 2nd, 2008 I will post all the ideas on my blog. We can expand upon them, work on them, point out the problems with them and the good points, and decide a deadline for taking action and who to go to.


Any takers? Think I'm being rediculous? Too scared to take responsibility for yourself and the planet? Or isn't life of every kind and this entire world worth a litlle bit of thought? Isn't it worth it...?


~ Vieve

The Last of my Days...

"It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power."
~ Alan Cohen

I am now in the very last week before I take my first steps into this new world of mine: a world of leisure and hard work; of wanderings and ramblings and who knows...Woody Guthrie songs keep popping into my mind, but I fear I am romancing the idea of this adventure too much. There are other things, I know...like having to go to the bathroom in the woods; blisters on my feet and sore shoulders; long days of loneliness in the middle of nowhere, but even these thoughts are beginning to stir something in me-- a challenge.

I have begun a transformation. It is not the kind of change I would excpect anyone else to notice, but rather only something that my mirrored reflection in the morning, or the windows on the street as I pass, can show. The gradual recognition of the move into the next phase of my life and the next me...They say that, something like every 7 years, you become a new person-- literally. All your original cells have been replaced by new ones and you have become something completely new. Well, perhaps my changes are solely interior and brain-related; and, then again, perhaps I just notice these changes more than many other people. I can see it in my walk, in the way I am beginning to dress, in the food I am eating and how I am eating it; in the fact that I would rather save money now than spend it, but not at the cost of something exquisite or extraordinary...does that make sense? I am not sure. But, after the last 3+ years of some of the hardest trials and anguish-- real or imagined-- I think I am finally realising that tehse times in our lives are not bad times, but growing pains. These are the times that allow you to transcend and emerge who you are/will be. It comforts me to think that perhaps I already might know who I am, I just haven't gotten to know her well yet, so that i may learn as much as possible about everything I can while I am away, rather than going on a search to "find myself" and only realizing that it was at home and in me all along, right there to begin with...(there's no place like home, Toto, there's no place like home). So, transition. (s).

The closer the departure day gets, the more terrified and electrified I become. I keep thinking, "Stupid girl! What are you doing!...you don't camp! you don't know what you are doing, where you are going..." but, most of all, how I will ever be able to talk myself into coming back. I have not even begun the journey, yet...at least, not in physical form...but, how will I be able to be happy coming back to a 9-5? And rent and bills. And expectations. Questions that cannot help but be answered later, I suppose.

It is odd to me, but I was surprised to find, the other day, that I am more scared of having nothing required of me. At first, all I felt was relief-- the continual shock of, "oh my God...I really won't HAVE to do anything...there's no reason to panic about being late for work, or having to turn in a paper, or get enough money to pay off my doctor bill..." andit is just such a foriegn feeling. I don't remember the time when I didn't HAVE to do something... But, now, there is this-- small, but growing-- fear in me of...what do I do? After I've seen this and done that and I am sitting there on a log in the middle of the alps in November and... what do I do? I suppose anything I want to. It's terrifying to realise that your life is actually your own...

Money

"Voyaging belongs to seamen, and to the wanderers of the world who cannot, or will not, fit in. If you are contemplating a voyage and you have the means, abandon the venture until your fortunes change. Only then will you know what the sea is all about.”
~ Colonel Sterling Hayden


Money. Well. My Father and I are at odd's again. This is no surprise, but frustrating, as I will be leaving Portland in 12 days. He wants control of my finances. So do I. He wants to be able to monitor everything in my account every month. So would I. He 'was going to give me $1,000+' which he will not now, because I expressed the desire to keep my money in my own account. He doesn't realise that I do not want his money. I'm not stupid. The tiny sum I have managed to save up will not go very far, especially in Europe. I am all too aware of this. But I also have faith in myself. I have contacted someone on the http://www.helpx.net/ website today, and have a number of other people I will contact when my plans firm up a bit. I have friends - or rather, my friend's cousin to stay with when I arrive in London, and 2 more of her relatives/friends who I will be meeting there.

...You see, I am not stupid. I know the dangers of having nothing to eat. I also have faith in myself and the world. I am not afraid to work - in fact I delight in the opportunity. And the one time I was happiest in my life were the few months that I was staying on a friends couch and could afford nothing more to eat than a tortilla and 1/2 a can of beans 2x a day; but you see I was dancing, and that was food enough for me...

Inspiration is the first step to all great journeys, I think...

"In our next lives, we'll remember not to be human.
We'll be a pair of wild geese,
Flying high into the sky.
And from that distance,
we'll look down on the world's blinding snows,
It's ocean's, waters, hills,
Clouds and red dust,
As if we had never fallen."

~ N'Guyen-Khac-Hieu

What's Past is Prologue...

PRELUDE, PROLOGUE, OR

WHAT YOU WILL

I wrote a poem to describe the situation. It was aweful. So I won't post it...

I am writing this blog for...what purpose? I know not...

I have never had many readers of my work...that I know of. I have a sporadic sort of journal/artwork/general-book-thing-to-paste-randoms-scrappage-in...so i don't really need this as a diary...

I suppose I am merely following a trend.

I suppose I wish to be helpful. To write about my wanderings in hope that I may help future wanderers and explorers; like all of the wonderful people I have been following for the past 6 months or more online in their adventures around the world...


...or maybe I'm just vain. ...We'll see how long this lasts... :)


In any case: Here I am. My name is Genevieve. I am leaving the United States and going to Europe for the next 6 months to a year to 2 years to...I don't know. I would say I would wish to wander forever, one adventure flowing smack-dash into the next in a continual wash-cycle tumble of sorts...but I have never before traveled like this...or much at all (though the yearning, the continual saring out windows and feeling the pull, and the whispering in my mind, on nights with no sleep, when I suddenly turn to the door and open it, saying ...go... has been with me as long as I have a memory, and that is long. The only problem, or opportunity I am facing now is that the more places I read about, the more I wish to know, see, experience.

I have never been the sort of person who just wanted to "see" something. Those people who come back after a weeks vacation and desribe how that jetted from Prague to Rome to London and Paris, managed to squeeze in every possible tourist infested attraction in 12hours, and still had time for dinner make me feel vomitous. My skin crawls. And I just want to say...why? But what did you really see? And at the moment 1 of my 3 jobs is working in a travel consolidator call center. Postcard tourist-travelers abound.

...BUT FIRST, A JOURNEY...

So. Here I am. I am here. Why am I where I am? Why am I going? Well. I had a birthday in January. I had my birthday, and the entire week surrounding it was...well. Let's just say it reeked of self-pity, self-loathing, frustration, and all-around "what the hell am I doing here, being alive?!" Needless to say, I couldn't stand it. I had the perfect job. I had the perfect house. I had a loving boyfriend, family, and many, many friends...(the fact that all these relationships were a bit strained was mostly due to my ever-increasing hermit-like quality, and an overwhelming case of selfishness that I had been slowly watering, and feeding, though not doing much in the way of pruning, though I did not want to admit it,).

The morning that things were lowest, in desperation, I suddenly shouted: I just want to go away! Why can't I just leave?!" ...and in that moment, I realised I could. I had always wanted to wander - I am a great reader of adventure novels, you see; my favorite book of all is the Count of Monte Cristo - and I had or my parents had or my friends had talked me out of these so called adventures more than once, til I had all but smothered the yearning, because it was too expensive, too dangerous, too...whatever...(there are always 100 'good' reasons why we do not have the things we want the most; but I think they all lead back to fear). But I am not afraid of sleeping outside in the forest or the city, I am not afraid of 'street people' - God, how offensive - or robbers or men, or or going for a few days without food. I AM afraid of bugs, though we have come to respect one another, and I am sure it is a mutual fear, so I suppose we must get to know each other better on this road). I am not even afraid of dying or death - and when I realized that, I KNEW I could go. Because, you see, to stay here in this moment would be to die a thousand times over: to be devoid of life. So go I must, and go I shall. I do not say that I am totally without all fear, but as my Mother loves to quote to her students,

"Courage is the willingness to be afraid...and act anyway."

So here I am. With a ticket to London. A backpack, a tent, a penny whistle, and a sketchbook-journal for company. Here I am. Now take me to the world...