The Recovering Journalist

Bouncing from Boston

Today's the last day of my Boston tour. And while I'm still busy sitting on my luggage trying to zip it closed, I thought I'd take a break to reflect on the past two weeks.

People always told me if I ever left the newspaper I'd need to work in some time to detox. I thought they were full of crap. Sure, everyone would like the luxury of detoxing between jobs. But in this economy, it just didn't seem feasible. I'd just get another job right away.

I should really shut up and just listen to my friends more.

According to Merriam-Webster, detox is a "detoxification" (thanks, guys) "from an intoxicating or addictive substance."

I think M-W falls short on the ole definition here. Sometimes the soul needs detoxification from the routine, from stress (which can be addictive but certainly isn't intoxicating - at least not in the traditional sense), from life in general.

Lying awake in bed last night I realized that my so-called detox from life brought me much closer to living again. I went about my days selfishly with ZERO plans. I'd walk until I tired, pop in somewhere and grab a drink and some food. I relaxed. I sat around by the river with no appointments to get to. I slept when I was tired. I ran when I wasn't. I was able to catch up with old friends and be more present for them than I have in ages.

Of course, this was largely at the generosity and kindness of my sister who was willing to put up with me shacking up with her for two weeks. ... And then getting sick at the end of the trip. So I owe her, big time.

What have I learned?

Detox is important.

Remembering why you like yourself at all is important.

Taking time to try to calm down to the best of one's ability is important.

Worrying doesn't get you very far.

It's nice to remember that you're not defined by your job, even if other people might define you that way. You were born unemployed. You'll likely die that way. Man is built for work, but work isn't man.

Sisters and friends are quite possibly the most wonderful things on the planet.

It's nice to have hobbies and it's important for the soul that you keep doing them, even when you think you're too busy.

Distance from the everyday is good.

Italian food, pastries and cupcakes are always good ideas.

There's no shame in taking lots of pictures.

xo

Must run and take my last tour of the city before boarding my plane.

Fear and Patience Brewster

From Wikipedia (and found while researching the histories of the various islands in and around Boston, including the Brewster islands):

"Elder William Brewster (c. 1560 or 1566 – April 10, 1644) was a Pilgrim colonist leader and preacher born in Doncaster, England and raised in Scrooby, in north Nottinghamshire, who reached what became the Plymouth Colony in the Mayflower in 1620. He was accompanied by his wife, Mary Brewster, and his sons, Love Brewster and Wrestling Brewster. Son Jonathan joined the family in November 1621, arriving at Plymouth on the ship Fortune, and daughters Patience and Fear arrived in July 1623 aboard the Anne."

Yes, that's right, his children were named Love, Wrestling, Patience, Fear ... and Jonathan.

Are you kidding me? What are the odds everyone hated Jonathan?

BoLoco loco

Ahhh, boLoco, it's been far too long since we spent time together. You have the tastiest burrito bowls I've ever had. I love you. Especially while sitting curbside, inside people-watching across from the Boston Common. Yummy, yummy, yummy.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

My morning/afternoon run

So... This view kind of beats the greenway when it comes to running. Although it's hot up here (seems I can't escape it) and the roads are as bad as you've heard which means sidewalks and bridge access is interesting. Yay!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Happy September!

Can you believe that shit? That it's September? Holy crap.
I had a friend recently say, "I had such high hopes for this year. And it was shit. It was just stagnant. Last year was too. Hell, the last five years have been."
He's not alone. I think most people feel the way he does.
I had someone else say to me today, "When will I feel grown up? When will I be out of debt and enjoy life?"
I think that IS being a grownup right now - being in debt and questionably happy. Do I hate sounding that pessimistic? Yes. I don't really mean to, but I think a revaluation of what it means to be an adult, right now, is in order.
Moreso, as I stare down at the first day of September I'm honestly excited. Sure this year might not have accomplished all I would've liked, but there were little victories. There were small moments of triumph and I'm trying to be much more accepting that my plans and time frame aren't God's or the universe's. No, sadly, the powers that be don't consult Regan - in the raw or otherwise. It's probably just as well. Who doesn't like surprises, right? :)

I got contacts today. It's one of those things. I don't REALLY need them. I'm near-sighted and have used glasses to drive for a few years. In the past year or two it's started to really bother me that when I'm walking around people across the room are blurry or I have a hard time reading the menu at chick-fil-a. My reading vision is 20-20, so when I was in front of my computer all day it didn't make sense to make my up-close vision suffer all the time to the benefit of my barely-used vision.
But now I'm running more and it's hard for me to look off into the blurry distance - further aggravating my already broken neck. I'd rather die than wear sunglasses while running.
So I tried contacts. I'm a "squeezer." The kind of person whose eyelids twitch at even the slightest approach. I can touch my eyeball no problem. It's getting my lids to stay open and not squeeze out the contact that's far, far trickier.
A patient woman named Amanda was kind enough to sit with me today while I made a smeared mess of my mascara and eye liner. I left looking like a drug addict who'd had a late night. God bless you, Amanda.
They were decent all day, as I dreaded how long it'd take me to get them out. Wound up quicker than I imagined. We'll see if I try it all again tomorrow. Blurry ain't so bad, right? ;)
Also, can't wait to tell you all about how I pretty much failed my field vision test for the upper left peripheral vision in my right eye. No word yet on why that is except that I have what appear to be Drusen on my optic nerves. I have to return in two weeks post Boston to figure that shit out. Meanwhile I Google around and discover drusen often have to be separated from a far more serious condition that results from brain inflammation. I'm hoping if there had been an indication of the latter, we might not wait two weeks for further testing. Am I right? Right!
Must sleep. Be well!!! Xo
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry