The elitism of Vashon Island is not one to be imitated, nor have I experienced in any place, in my life. The locals stare at you with a question of why are you here and where are you from. They do not wear makeup & walk with a severe air of indignation. Taking the ferry over, the smell of the ocean and the feel of a boat, I get lost in thought and remember my old life which I do miss tremendously.
We had eggs Benedict (endearingly referred to as “red flannel” eggs Benedict) with beets & corned beef on top, buckwheat blueberry pancakes and black coffee with my old boat friends and we kept knocking stuff off the wobbly legged table and bursting into laughter. We went to “Oly’s house” a wooden cabin built by Oly himself and drank hot tea and talked of life and then to the local private Elks lodge for an IPA where we stared at the locals and then drove around the island getting the narration of who lived where mixed with fast facts and biographical backstories until it was time to catch the ferry home and leave.
Approaching my 35th birthday, I’m unsure if the age reducing face cream is actually working as I see more lines carved into my forehead as I look around and see more people with less lines in theirs due to the Botox phenomenon sweeping the country.
I finished The Picture of Dorian Gray while petting my moms dog in the Easter morning sunlight. Although struggling to finish the book for a week due to the constant interruptions of the children and my mothers and siblings, I felt a great relief at finishing a book I had longed to read for as long as I could remember. The entire book was so old, pages kept falling out as I read it and by the end, had completely fallen apart and I had to throw it away. (The irony of the book falling apart as I read it I STILL can’t wrap my mind around). Between going to ballet in Kansas City and catching up with old friends, going through old photos, calling my old best friend up, and reliving the feeling that I can do anything in the world, and for some reason, can only remember that when I am at home.
All my friends had generously provided a place to stay along with such abundant attention that I had nearly forgotten that these types of people exist. God was everywhere and it was obvious.
My dad was older, my dogs were older and I felt everyday flew by and yet dragged on at the same time.
The sound of my fathers radio in his hunting cabinet, always on and barely audible. The cyan and rose decorated Panamanian Rosary that hangs on my mothers jade lamp with some Spanish words imprinted on the centerpiece.
All of the old farmers and friends I thought I would recognize had changed into people I no longer recognized or had moved away. And the few people I did recognize I was so happy to see with a deep longing, one I had forgotten about. Years had passed and a few crows feet and permanent freckles decorated both of our faces and I felt myself verbally trying to find an old connection, like we used to have. But this life I no longer truly knew. Just me, stuck in memories of long, long ago.
The judgement and education level provided a constant communication barrier for me often, so I just chose to mostly stay quiet.
At first when I rode the horses in Costa Rica I had been enamored by its beauty and paradise that I chalked up to “magical Costa Rica” and my stubborn horse Fantasma. However, the next time around I had become more educated in the tourist industry and realized these horses were mules and their hooves were cracked and they were unkempt and skittish. And that most people will do anything for a US dollar. And when I watched an older lady get thrown from the mule and the chaos that ensued of being nearly trampled by the rest of the mules and trying to get her out safely with broken bones I realized I saw it coming all along. That it probably happened all of the time. That paradise is never paradise. And there is always a price being paid for luxury and extravagance.
Things I’m grateful for at 34:
A perfect bottle of mature perfume
Healthy plants &
A clean bill of health
Time to take an occasional bubble bath
Healthy, white teeth
An organized apartment
Getting my finances in order
Money and time for dance class
An occasional massage
“You have carved your own unconventional beautiful path, you didn’t get married when others would and settle down because you thought you should, you didn’t take a job you didn’t like because everyone else did, or stay in one spot. Or have kids. And you deserve the best in the whole world. And if you can’t see that, no one will. And the guy who sees the beauty in you, will never let you go because he will know how special you are and will always treat you like a queen. You never judge anyone ever. And no one is like that.” -my mom
If your porch or windows face any direction besides West in Seattle (you may or may not care about this if you live in almost any other state) but in Seattle that means in the spring when the trees bloom and the rain and clouds finally go away, any sun you might get for three hours is quickly blocked and so you get sun by A: walking around the neighborhood (if you have time) b) going to the beach (if you have time c) going to the local coffee shop and for a 5 dollar coffee can enjoy the comforts of the Seattle sunshine such as you would have by having your own porch facing the West. Since you are most always vitamin D deprived throughout the year due to the previously mentioned rain and constant lethargy, this means that a mere 5 dollars can equal a million for your mental and physical health as well as a clear mind, in a jam packed city.