**** You, Lou Reed!

So, I ran through a lot of titles for this post before settling on this one. The frontrunner was “World’s Worst Blogger” because, let’s face it, I suck at this. In my defense, I defy anyone who has had as much on my plate these last 6 months to find the time to write too! Maybe that’s a bit of a cop out, but after spending hours cleaning out the house in 90 degree weather, and no air conditioning, the last thing I need or want to do is sit and try to find witty things to say on a blog. Of course, if you don’t actually write anything, the blog doesn’t really work, does it? So, I am making the vow today to get my ass in gear and write more regularly.

Now, as for the title, that’s just my favorite quote of recent months – it should not reflect at all on my opinion of Lou Reed and his music. And, it is actually connected to what has been going on in my life lately. A few months ago, I said something was going on that I didn’t want to talk about yet. That may have conveyed the idea of a relationship of some sort, but it was actually something very different. I was awarded a Fulbright Classroom Teacher Exchange grant, and I’m moving to England for a year in about 10 days! So, add that to the cleaning out of the house, buying the apartment (which finally closed – more on that another time), work, well, you get the idea. I didn’t want to talk about it, not because of worrying about the grant, but rather the apartment. I didn’t want the board to be concerned about me being away, or think that somehow I couldn’t pay for the apartment. I am, some would say fortunately, in the position to pay for the apartment while living in London. Some would say fortunately, but the reason I’m in this financial position basically sucks.

But, I’m not going to dwell on that. The connection to Lou Reed is that he was on my flight to London in June to find an apartment. We were delayed 6 hours, and then they changed planes. Some people got bumped from first class (I had used miles to upgrade), and some guy who got bumped was furious (at 3 AM!) that Lou Reed and his band got their first class seats, and he didn’t. He started cursing out Lou Reed to the flight attendants (who was sitting across from me, and could hear everything). All any of us wanted was to take off already, and we had to sit there and listen to his tantrum. Me, my last 4 years have put a lot of things in perspective, and I just could not get upset about something as minor as a flight delay. So I laughed, drank my champagne, and listened to the tirade.

So, a week later, here I am writing the same blog entry – did I mention I suck at this? The week has been non-stop. Cleaning and prepping the house – 12 hours Saturday on the stuff from the attic. Ten hours Sunday on the stuff from the basement, and on and on. And, of course, other things mixed in – some good, some just more stressful. I had a great day Tuesday – Maria took me for a “Spa day.” Something I’ve never done before. And then, I hosted a really nice dinner at Sofrito. Not everyone who I wanted to be there could be, but it was a nice night. On one level, it was a chance to introduce Elizabeth (my exchange partner) to my friends so she’d have some people to contact if she needs anything. But, it was also a chance to see some people before I leave – which now is in 4 days!

This is a little scary – 4 days. It’s not just 4 days until I get on a plane to start an adventure in England. It’s 4 days until I truly put my old life behind me. Oh, I’ll be back in October to move in to my apartment (I’ll gripe about that another time, but I want to say “**** you Lou Reed” to a few people these days!). And I’ll be home for Christmas. And, the house will likely still be here, but it won’t be home anymore. I suppose it hasn’t really been home since Mom died. But, still, this house has been part of my life for my whole life, and it’s going to be really hard to close that book. At the same time, I need to close it, and pick up a new one – and I want to. But, letting go is really hard (even though holding on would actually be worse for me). So, on one level, I have a very healthy attitude toward moving on, and on another, I’m afraid I might be clinging to the doorframe when Keith is trying to take me to the airport on Tuesday. Yeah, that sounds about right for me.

Then there is the unknown about what to expect in London. I mean, it’s not like London is unknown, but the people of London are! I don’t know a soul in London, or England, the United Kingdom, Europe . . . OK, maybe there’s some people from A-100 in Europe somewhere, but still, I have to start fresh and make friends – I’m really bad at making friends. I’m good at keeping them, but not so good at making them. I become a shy twelve-year-old all over again, assuming people aren’t going to like me. But, unless I want to spend every night in the apartment (sorry, “flat”), watching DVDs with the dogs, I need to actually put myself out there and meet people. So, yeah, terrifying. I’m so much better with the written word but, alas, I can’t hand out little stories to people in pubs (I’m so not a pub crawler, by the way).

Adding to the stress/sadness is the fact that I went up to Friends Lake yesterday – that wasn’t sad, but knowing I won’t be there again for a year is. And then I got home tonight and all the stuff from the kitchen drawers was all out for me to sort, and my boxes were in the living room to ship to London, and I suddenly got hit hard by the finality of this week – I leave in 4 days!! Now, the hypocritical thing about this is that all that stuff was out because that’s exactly what I asked Keith to do. I didn’t realize it would make me sad (seriously, who gets sad over a pot with no handle or a scuffed Bundt cake pan?).

And, oh, yeah, it’s my birthday Sunday – the first one without either Mommy or Daddy. 36. Is that old? Sometimes I feel positively ancient. Other times I still feel like the 17-year-old girl who graduated from Ursuline with her whole life ahead of her. Never thought it would turn out the way it has – and that’s the good as well as the bad. It’s a rocky road, life. I used to think it wasn’t fair (OK, sometimes I still do), but the truth is, it’s just life. Sometimes it’s beautiful and sometimes it sucks. But it’s not what happens to us that defines us. Rather, it’s how we deal with it. Sometimes I feel like I’m holding on by my fingertips, but I think I’m handling it pretty well, all things considered. Check back in a few weeks when I can’t get my TV shows or my Yankee games, and it’s been raining for days, and see if I’m still saying that.

As anyone who knows me well knows, my “New Year” is September, the start of the new school year, so I’ll sign off now with a pledge – I will write more. I have to. This was an exercise to allow me to process things as I went through this time after Mommy’s death, and the lack of time maybe means more than a lack of writing. It may mean a lack of processing. So, more writing, more processing – and a more healthy outlook as I start the New Year. 2009-2010 is the year that was. 2010-2011 is the year that will be.