Miss that girl - a lot

Three years, it's been three years since Winnie died. Whew. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her, but now three years later it's always with a smile and very seldom with sadness.

I got Winnie when I was 25, at a time where I was quickly realizing that I was not the center of the universe and when crap from my past started seeping its way into my life. This girl you see here in the photo was there for me through ALL of it. All the crap, the sadness, joy, delight, pain, desire, broken hearts, all of it, she was there. Through many relationships, friendships, jobs, she was waiting by the door ready to go for a walk. She kept me going through times where I questioned my own sanity, doubted my abilities, dragged myself through the mud. That forked tongue panting away was there to help me live in the moment. Forget about the troubles and just go to the park. I know that she wasn't a person, but that makes it all the more special. She didn't make person mistakes. She didn't accidently do something that I took the wrong way. She didn't gossip and try to make herself look better. She stood tall and out in front (much to Cesar Milan's dismay). She was an angel sent from heaven to live with me here on earth and to get me through a long period in my life that otherwise would have been much more disastrous. Even though she's gone, she not really gone. She changed me. In hard times, in desperate times, I think of her and remind myself that there is goodness, that finding those moments of delight, of sniffing the best smelling street ever, of the never ending excitement over dinner time, of curling up and snuggling with your favorite blanket, is how you are supposed to live. She  showed me how to live in the moment and even though it's a struggle to not feel the stress of life, I can sit back and imagine her face when I picked up the leash. Absolute joy.

My dad sent me this quote and it pretty much sums up what it's like to be a "dog person". I know people who don't get "it" and never will, but I also know many many people who do get it. Here's to all my friends that get it!

Doesn't everyone have a tattoo plan?

It all started when I had just moved to Burma and everything was new and strange. I was feeling way out of my comfort zone and found myself drawn to a tattoo shop in one of the central markets. Hanging out in a tattoo shop may seem like a torturous plan, but when you've spent some time getting tattooed you start feeling at home in them. It's kind of like being catholic, really. You can go into a catholic church in any place in the whole world and know what is going on, know the routine and feel comfortable in a place that is not new. The buzzing of the tattoo gun, the smell of disinfectant, all soothing to the soul.

So, I had moved to Burma and soon into my stay started needing comfort things. I thought, well, I should get a tattoo here and then it hit me - that I've been tattooed in every place that I've lived (as an adult) and sometimes in places I've just visited. North Carolina, South Dakota, Colorado, in Hawaii on a visit, and here I was in my first new country as an adult and the tradition was made. Since that Burmese addition, I've been tattooed in Thailand and Peru as a passer through, but up until this week hadn't taken the plunge for Bolivia.

I've thought a lot about my Bolivia tattoo. I've had a few ideas here and there, and talked to a few people, but nothing really struck me until I picked up a magazine at the pharmacy. I want the tattoos to reflect the places I've lived. As you know, Santa Cruz is tropical, I know you think Bolivia is high in the cold Andes, but I actually live in the tropical part. I've been thinking toucan, tropical flowers, etc, for a while. I took the idea to a shop in the city center and started the design this week. I didn't intend for my Bolivia design to take up so much space, I'm still on the move you know. But after he showed me the design he came up with I just couldn't reduce it or cut anything out. I love it.

I think I'm getting wimpy in my old age. I have less tolerance for pain, or maybe I'm tattooing more painful spots. In any case, I decided to do this one in two stages and just get the outlines first. I'm not coloring the whole thing, but there are so many cool, hidden images, that they need a little color.

Here's the first stage...

39 and NOT counting

This all started around 35. 'This' being my obsession with the number of my age. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you are only as old as you feel, but you and I both know that is a bunch of crap and only young people say it anyway, a kind of way to settle down us old people when we get out of hand. I was talking to my kids at school today, they are between 14-17 and I asked them, hey, can you even IMAGINE turning 40??? Of course they said no, and I said ME EITHER and I'm 39! It's not that I have a death wish, but seriously I didn't think I'd live this long. I remember being in high school and I was the kid who couldn't imagine being married, having kids and a family. I couldn't picture myself in my future, and well now I'm in my future and I don't know what to make of it. 

I got to thinking about this and I have concluded that this quality about me must be the reason I love being around high schoolers all day. You know how I feel about being a teacher. I have the perfect job for a person like me. I'm not the best role model, I don't pretend to be, I am honest, though. 

February 9, 2011 started out like any other day, except that I was on edge. I have personal space issues, I have age issues, I just want to have a normal work day. I knew I wouldn't be overlooked, but I didn't want a huge deal made out of this day. I threatened my roommates within inches of their life to leave me alone in the morning. 

The morning announcements always congratulate birthdays so that wasn't a surprise. I am now teaching an extra class and it is first block, so that was ok. Then came break. Yes, in private international schools we get a morning break for 25 minutes. It's awesome. I notice my girls running around and acting a little strange and I am called to the office, only to get immediately shoved out and back to my room. I sit down and a huge tray of food comes charging at me! It's breakfast :) My girls have bought me an awesome breakfast!

I think one of the reasons I like this group so much is that they really are kind people. Not that fake kind, but genuine kids. Honest. I love that. They are not fake, at all, and when they go out of their way to show affection, you know it is real and it means something. I look up to them, respect them and am happy they didn't listen to me gripe about not wanting to celebrate my birthday.

I can't remember if I told you, but in December when I visited Ana for her birthday I mentioned that mine was in February and the family excitedly invited me back to celebrate. The past few weeks, with that teacher quitting, has been crazy and I've been working to death and, of course, got sick. I waited til the last minute to call the office to see about visiting Ana, secretly hoping that they would have forgotten about my birthday...

As you can see, they didn't. It was awesome. A family that has next to nothing, zero, went out of their way to make me feel like a part of their family, special, loved. The kindness coming from the family was thick enough to smother yourself in. We have a sugar shortage in Bolivia. It's stupid really, but has affected so many people. There has been NO sugar in the stores and if you can find it the prices have doubled. Not a big deal to me, but what about a family of 11 that makes all their food and needs sugar? 

I don't know what they had to do, but look at this cake! The dirt neighborhood that Ana lives in doesn't have a birthday candle selection so they got me a church candle to stick in the middle! Of course they sang Happy Birthday in English and then Spanish and in accordance with the Latino tradition I had to bite the cake. Chanting: bite the cake, bite the cake, bite the cake

I know I look super young for my age, but I know what that means...

Yup, I'm gonna get my face shoved in some cake! Even though this photo is blurry I LOVE the smiles. 

I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend my birthday. All my grumbling and groaning and this day was fantastic.

thirty what?

There is no possible way I'm about to turn 39. Seriously. It's not that I don't feel like I've accomplished anything, I just don't know what happened. I don't care about the family things, you know, kids and stuff, I just can't believe that 20 years has passed since I graduated high school. That I became a teacher 9 years ago. I feel better, actually. It is true what they say, that when you get older you don't care what people think. I am still hyper observant, but I can tell that my brain takes a bit longer to process things. My body gets stiff easier and I realize that my sitting still problem is due to my stiff joints. Sit too long in any position and I ain't getting out of it too easily.

The good thing is that I'm really more comfortable in my skin than ever and well, my skin ain't what it used to be.

I tell you one thing that pisses me off... my downright refusal to be careful in the sun when I was younger. Those of you who are under 35 are going to be in shock in a few years and yeah yeah I know you don't think it'll ever happen to you. I know you think you will stay the same way forever, but the fact is, you won't and you, just like me, are too stubborn to listen to anyone older than you.

Lately I've been struggling with being around people that are not in my age group. I know, you are only as old as you feel and all that crap, but really, there is something to be said for having a group of friends that are in the same stage of their lives as you. I brought this idea up to a wise friend in the same age group as me and here's what she had to say...

"...but after a while, the gap of our age and life experiences really kicks in. And after a while I just feel over it, over them, and just old. So I totally get what you are saying and the frustration of wanting to say, really, i know you think it will never happen to you, that you have all the time in the world, that you are different, but sweetie, just-please-fucking-listen-to-me: I KNOW, and I know better.

But they never do."

I don't know how all you parents did it. How you stood by and watched us act like ass holes knowing, knowing that we would look back and say, man I wish I'd listened to that advice back then. It takes a lot of patience and I have to practice it every day as a teacher, but it's different when it's someone really close.

So here, in my 39th year, what are my goals? What do I want to accomplish? It's a lot of stress thinking about the next birthday. What do I want to do BEFORE I'm 40? See there I go wishing away the time again. Patience. There's my mantra for the next 12 months.