Goodbye Twenty-One

In one month, I’m going to be twenty-two. In one month and one week, I’m going to be a graduate. Knowing that I only have one more month of this “magic” age makes me think about the last twelve months and do a quick summery;

Twenty One:

12 countries
20 cities
24 planes
too many heartbreaks
too many tearful goodbyes
too many airports
too many neurotically sleepless nights
too much neurosis. Period.
Just enough wine
way too many car accidents, stiches, broken bones and damaged livers
too many blood tests, hospital stays and panic attacks
just the right number of new dresses
using/hearing the phrase “but it’s complicated” too many times

This was the year that kicked the wind out of me, the year that messed with my head the most. It was the year that everything changed, the year I discovered ‘Sex and the City’, and French 75s. It was the year my plans changed 456, 354 times, the year I had the best job I’ve had so far (although I didn’t get paid for it). It was the year that screwed me over the most, and yet it was still the best.

It started somewhere between Manhattans Upper East Side, and the side of a road in New Jersey and three in the morning. It’ll end in Adelaide. Somehow, neither the beginning nor the end of twenty one seems to matter, but all the crap in between that made it worth it, or made me lose my mind – I don’t know which yet, but I still have one month to decide.

So, pre-emptively raise a glass to twenty-one, the craziest year of my life so far, and hope that twenty-two will kick twenty-one’s ass!!!

Almost the end.

Well, I've come to the end of my YouEsseAye travels.

It was great,
it was emotional,
it was depressing,
it was uplifiting,
it was... interesting.

It was inspirational.
I want to paint and I wrote my first poem since I left here last December. Wow.

A year ago, I never thought that I would love this place so much, that I'd come back. If you would have asked me a year ago what I would be doing in July 2010, I would have probably concocted some vague answer that included Spain or France. I would have never guessed I would have embarked on this crazy crazy trip of insanity that gave me a lot of clear-mindedness. Perhaps, it was even cheaper than therapy! Perhaps, it would have been cheaper to just hire a shrink. Anyway,
Some stand-out moments;

• arriving to NYC from London in business class, seeing the big apple from above with the lights glittering
• many good dinners with good friends (during the whole 6 weeks)
• turning 21 in NY/NJ
• The Barking Dog cafe
• getting asked for my ID when buying alcohol (though no-one asked on my actual birthday!!)
• sitting on the side of the road in Jersey at 3am on my birthday after the car broke down
• looking for a mechanic at 7am in heels and a white cocktail dress
• fighting my way to LaGuardia
• smelling eucalyptus in california
• frozen yoghurt in Stanford
• pretty Berkeley
• the sheer amount of pick-up lines recieved while walking around the Mission district of San Francisco.
• spending the night at the SFO airport, on a couch at subway, finding a pill and a penny on the ground. not eating either pill nor penny.
• 2 memorable hours in Texas
• seemingly endless midnight talks
• very unfortunate soccor games (involving Australia and France.)
• finally getting Ceviche again. God, I missed it.
• passing customs into Canada
• passing customs into the USA
• Cristal Monee Hall playing the Montreal Jazz Festival
• Montreal Museum of Fine Arts
• Dad's Tuna Bagels, Montreal.
• watching jeopardy and drinking wine in montreal
• Ben and Jerry's icecream
• finding my way around Paterson, NJ on my own
• JUST making the bus for Baltimore when I thought I missed it
• 4th of July fireworks
• airconditioning
• walking around Baltimore port

well, thats all I could think of off the top of my head.

I'm glad to be going back to France. Very glad. I'm counting the hours until I arrive in Lyon.

And, although I've decided not to come back for a while, I will miss this country. It's an enigma. There's still so much to see/do/discover here.

But I will be back. I know I will. America, you can't get rid of me that easily.

Birthday Week

As we all know it, time travels on. And before you know it, you're 21 and jumping across 5 timezones in one week. My "birthday week" started in Lyon and ended in Santa Cruz, CA.
To be honest, I did not get totally drunk and crazy like most people do when they turn 21, (I can do that any day) but I think this short resume will prove that it was a birthday to be remembered for sure!

It all began in France last Saturday with coffee, fruit tartlettes and good company. It then graduated to a sushi dinner, Hagen Dazs icecream in the main square of Lyon, cocktails and champagne. A definite amazing start to birthday celebrations and a fantastic 'aurevoir' to France.

The next morning, I said a tearful goodbye at the Lyon Part Dieu station but was soon welcomed into the arms of the British Airways Paris business lounge. And, well, travelling has never been so luxurious. I must admit, I over-did it on the free food and free alcohol on the way, in both Paris and London, repeating my 'birthday flight' mantra of: "They will have to roll me off this plane!!"

Not to mention the fact that I got to see the Eiffel Tower, London Eye AND fly into New York at night in the one day! Oh, I must not forget the complimentary massage and facial in London!

Then, I had 2 days in New York, and, really, you can't go wrong there. On my first day, I took Manhattan for all it's worth, hiking from Riverside to the Upper East Side, from 96th to 40th. There was 5th Ave, there was St Patricks, there was window shopping and amazing food at the Barking Dog Cafe (as seen on Sex and the City... I read that on the menu... I've never seen a single episode of Sex and the City. I have to recommend the Blue Ribbon Museli.)

After this epic day of Manhattan by Foot... it was my actual birthday. Which started off at the Barking Dog (again - this time for blueberry buttermilk pancakes) and ended up sitting on a curb in New Jersey... go figure. So, after breakfast at the barking dog, I spent the late morning and early afternoon laying on the lawns at Central Park, and then browsing through the bookstore at the Metropolitain Museum of Art - because books and art AND New York - well, if you know me, you'd know I'd be on cloud nine.

After that I took a stressful (to say the least) cab ride to the station through Manhattan traffic. And then some metro, because I went to the wrong station. But, before you know it, I was in Seacaucus, New Jersey, having chatted with a lovely Dominican man on the train, waiting for the next train to Clifton. I met up with one of my oldest friends (oldest meaning - who I have known the longest), in Clifton and we stuffed ourselves rotten on Sushi and drank a bottle of wine each. And the waiters sang happy birthday to me... no waiter has ever sung happy birthday to me, especially while carrying a sundae with candles! After dinner, we dragged ourselves home for more wine, and some gin too. We sat on the porch talking until another friend drove past and took me to the Shannon Rose, an Irish pub in New Jersey. Before we even walked in, my heel got tangled in the seatbelt and I was hurled to the ground. Attacked by a Saab! A massive bruise still lingers on my left leg.

After I picked myself up (with a little help), there was, of course, more wine, some sangria and we finished it off with a round of vodka shots (because it was, in fact, a Polish birthday)... and we headed back. (In all fairness, it was 3am at this point). But, somewhere close to Garfield, NJ, the car broke down and we were stuck waiting for a cab for close to an hour, and that is how I ended my actual birthday sitting on a curb somewhere in New Jersey.

The next day started early, at 6:30 or 7, I think. All I know is that I didn't sleep at all, or if I did, it was for less than half an hour. We went back to pick up the car, which still wasnt starting, hiked to the closest mechanics (me in heels, of course!) to get a thingy (my car-parts knowledge is astounding) to re-start the battery to drive the car over and get it fixed properly. All I noticed is that heels and white cocktail dresses are not the most appropriate when trying to find a small-town mechanic somewhere in New Jersey. We were stuck in 'little Poland' for a few hours, so we aimlessly tried to find a Polish restaurant open for breakfast. There were none (apparently my people don't eat breakfast). So, instead, we got some Polish groceries and ate a pseudo-picnic on the side of the road. There is nothing better when you are stranded, exhausted with aching feet in the heat of summer than mint-apple juice. Nothing. Period.

When the car was ready, we headed to get Peruvian food for lunch. I have to admit, I've missed Ceviche while in Europe... missed it terribly.

The next few days flew by quickly in New Jersey. Those days involved some stresses, but most importantly, good food and good company, and before I knew it, I was running around Seacaucus station trying to find which track I needed to get to New York Pennsylvania Station. It was not easy, but I managed. I also managed to find the Shuttle Bus on 7th Ave/33rd St which got me to La Guardia. I checked in, I paid American Airlines' extortionate fee to check in luggage, and I settled down for the few hours that I needed to wait until I could board my flight to Chicago. Now, I dont know if it is common knowledge, but perhaps it should be; Airlines HATE me. There is not one flight with a major airline that I have been on in the last 3 years that was not delayed or cancelled or something. And well, we were stuck sitting on the tarmack in La Guardia for 40 minutes.

Now, 40 minutes is not that long, I understand. But when one only has 40 minutes to connect to one's San Francisco flight in Chicago; 40 minutes is vital. So, we landed at 7:53pm local time at the Chicago O'Hare airport and my plane was boarding at 7:55pm. By the time everyone got off the plane, it was 8:10pm and all I could do was sprint across the airport to my gate. I made it. But only just. All in all, I spent 32 minutes in Chicago. I landed in San Francisco, found Amy and Yusef (my wonderful hosts in California) and we drove back to Santa Cruz.

Today was the last day of a pleasant stretch of time I have refered to as my 'birthday week'. I lounged around a bit and spent hours getting grilled, toasted, baked and all round reddened by the sun on the beach. Then we went out for Sushi. And it was wonderful.

So I didn't get drunk and wake up in a strange parking lot wearing only half my clothes and one shoe. I didn't play 'kings' in a VIP vodka bar. I didn't organise a lavish party for my friends and spend hunderds on a dress. I spent 17 Euros on a dress and traversed through 3 countries, 5 timezones, 10 cities. I experienced the full range of sensations, from free massages to waiting for a cab on the side of the road. Looking back on it, I loved it, and I definately wish all my birthdays involved a crazy week during which, on many occasions, I laughed to myself and thought 'how did I get here' - but in a good way.

Rain, rain, go away.... come again in 2 and a half weeks...

It's raining like crazy here, and, according to theweatherchannel.com, it will keep raining for the next five days.
I'm still sick, coughing and all phlegmy, (not that you needed to know) but the shoe-soaking weather is not helping... not at all. And I had a horrible dream last night which really shook me up. Oh, and I'm broke again, but what's new?
I have done some organising for my USA/Canada trip coming up, but not much... I need to make some decisions. However, I have done quite a bit more organising for my Europe trip immediately after. My wonderful dad bought me a ticket from Geneva to Warsaw, which means I'm going to see my cousins and maybe even see Warsaw, if I decide to spend a night there.
Lately, I've been having trouble making decisions, in what seems like almost all areas of my life; travel, work, study, personal life, food etc. If I wasn't so broke, I'd get myself some tarot cards to help make some of these pressing decisions which I can't seem to do!
It's strange, I've always been very decision-orientated and quick to know what I want. I seem to be changing in my old age (birthday coming up). And even though I've not yet hit 21, I feel a lot older than that. In a good way, but also in a bad way. I feel I've missed out on being young and stupid, but I know that many people (mostly my parents) will think of my propensity for doing things with a high risk of catastrophe and argue that I have, in fact, not grown up at all and in reality, stayed 15 for the last six years.
So, have I grown up or not? I still have no idea. While friends of mine are writing theses, getting degrees, starting careers, getting engaged and having babies, I realise I'm not even close. I graduated high school four years ago and I'm nowhere near a degree, let alone a career, I'm not going to get engaged soon, and I'm definately not planning on having a baby yet. I always thought I had plenty of time for this - I thought I'd have all that sorted at 25; degree, career, husband, baby. But that's in four years!! Four years does not seem enough time for all that, and I think that's what scares me the most. I always thought all this travelling and this crazy life I have was just to get it out of my system so I could settle down early.
When did I turn 20? And how the hell am I almost 21? And I don't even want to think about what I will be like before I actually turn 25, or even 30!!
And even though I feel older than I am, I feel I haven't accomplished anything that one is meant to accomplish in life, like a serious relationship, or a real job, or an education. I'm not even close.
Just give me my age-defying face-cream and book me in for my botox, I'm having a mid-life crisis at 21!

Shoe Obituary

I've been desperately needing new shoes, but I've been trying to put it off till I go to the U.S. because shoes are cheaper there. However, I can go on no longer.

I love my old shoes... here they are... a bit worn and torn...


... but they have served me well, nonetheless. In Washington last August, I managed to wear out 2 pairs of flats which I bought in Perth. These shoes saved me; US$11.50 on 5th Avenue in New York City. I wore them all over North America, they were my only shoes until the snow came in Montreal. They travelled and have seen Europe with me. Well, it shows:

they have also been stretched beyond belief and constantly fall off my feet. Stairs are a struggle in them. I guess it's time they go.

But I'm very picky with shoes. I'm travelling. They can't be super heavy, they need to suit everything in my suitcase and they can't cost more that 20Euro. But I don't want black shoes.

After over 2 hours of fruitless traversing in what feels like a million stores where the shoes were either ugly, or too expensive, or too colourful, or not colourful enough, or too plain, or too 'out there', I found these wonderful cotton flats for less that 15Euro;

They have no holes, they fit and they don't fall off my feet. They are pretty, they match everything. I really do thing I have a bit of a crush on these shoes. Even so, I have become attached to my purple shoes. I have some good memories of those shoes. It's sad to let them go...

R.I.P dear purple shoes. I will remember you fondly.

Dear New York.

written at the Musée des Beaux Arts, Lyon.

I'm so spoiled. I don't mean materially (I'm writing this on a croissant-wrapper). No, I mean intellectually spoiled. I'm sitting here at the Musee des Beaux Arts, I got in for free (yay to being European and under 25), and yet I'm still so disappointed. I just passed by a Picasso, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to see the Demoiselles d'Avignon again in NYC.

I saw some Delacroix and Gericault originals and thought that the collection is not as good as the Met.

There is Matta, Dufy and Chagall within a few meters of me, but it's not the MoMA - the modern art wing at the Musee des Beaux Arts was barely half of what I expected it to be. There is no Dali, or Khalo, or Rivera, or Calderon, or Calder. And the two Delaunay pieces (one Sonia and one Robert) are unbelievably small and underwhelming.

I don't get the tiniest bit of emotion here. I almost cried when I saw Malevich's White on White in NYC last summer. I'm not joking, I welled up.

I keep thinking my life would be so much easier if I never went to NYC. I would be happy in France. I wouldn't miss it so much. I wouldn't be sitting in a museum (my favourite place in the world; the museum), counting down the days until I leave for JFK.

New York -

My life would be easier if I never met you.

I would be blissfully ignorant of what I'm missing out on.

New York - I hate you

But I'm also deeply, madly in love with you.

Please take me back.

Things that I am in love with right now.

• boats
• having a job and making money
• Milan Kundera
• keeping a diary
• the growing urge to paint something
• the breton wind
• going to New York in a matter of WEEKS (or months, depending on how you look at it)
• the purchasing of return train tickets to Lille/Brussels for less than 100 Euro.
• the relaxation and freedom of weekends off work
• my new camera (Windows and Doors - new photography project)
• speaking french

with all the love from Brittany/Bretagne. West France.

-a

No, don't make me go!

I'm packing right now, and I'm a mess. I'm crying so much. I don't want to go. I've never wanted to stay somewhere so badly as I want to stay here. If I could have it my way, I'd go back to August 12th and do the whole thing again. Everything. Every essay. Sit every exam again. Cry myself to sleep at the low points all over again. Get lost on the metro and subway again, almost expire from the heatwave in NY and DC and the insane cold in Montreal. Fall down drunk all those times again. Get every cut, bruise, burn and general owie again. Go through every health scare again. I'd do it all again. I want to fly into NY for the first time again, and like all those months ago, see the city and think 'Wow! this is my place in the world'. I've never felt so at home in a foreign country. Scatch that, I've never felt so at home period, as I have in the last 5 months. And as amazing as Europe may be, I wish I was coming back here, for good.

Snow, Borscht and Boots.

It really is Murphey's law... just the other day, I got an email from Berlin where it has already been snowing. Outraged, I articulated my disbelief that central Europe got snow before Quebec, although mentioned that I shouldn't tempt fate, I may have bought winter boots but I do not yet have a warm enough coat. Well, last night I left the house to get some snacks at the bakery, it was 1'c and SNOWING. I was frozen. I came home shivering but smiling from ear to ear. My jacket was covered in snowflakes, my hair was damp, and I had gotten many a sour look from people I passed on the street as I grinned like a cheshire cat and caught snowflakes on my tongue and giggled as they got caught on my eyelashes. This morning, my hands were chapped and red, for lack of gloves suited for snow but I was still happy. Enjoying the first snow of the season was so worth it. I was quite devestated when I woke up this morning (more like afternoon, but that's just semantics) and there was no soft white layer of snow covering the world yet. However, I did get compensated by the fact that it was a gorgeous autumn day, the sun was shining and the tree-lined streets of Notre-Dame-de-Grace were all the shades of yellows, oranges and reds. I totally love my life.

Today I also bought my tickets to New York. I'm staying for 3 days and 3 nights which include Halloween. Checking the weather in NY and NJ, I was quite disappointed to learn there would be no snow, and summery temperatures over 15 degrees. (Yes, I said summery... perspective changes here in Montreal). To continue the theme of weather... it's now 3 degrees and I walked home thinking '3 degrees is not cold'... and it's not. Thank god I am coming to this realisation now, psychologically preparing myself for the temperatures to come, which promise to be well below freezing before I fly out of here. I leave on what is technically the first day of winter, December 21, but every quebecois I speak to assures me I will not be leaving without a good taste of a Canadian winter, it will easily reach -20 by then.

In other news, I have finished midterms and am utterly ecstatic with that fact. Now, just have a lot of papers and take home exams to write. Unfortunately, I need a textbook for one of my take home exams (worth 45%), an essay exam due on Wednesday and it was sold out at the bookstore and I have to wait till Tuesday to get it. Meaning, I wont be sleeping on tuesday night. At present, I have finished a total of 30% of my Concordia semeseter. Still a long way to go, and it's going to be hard work.

Tomorrow, I'm planning to get up early and head to the train station to do some field research for my architecture paper. It's only 500 words but I have to visit the site which I've chosen to write about - the train station in Montreal. I'll be able to finish it by dinner easily. I'm also going to take some photos around NDG and downtown with the gorgeous autumn colours.

Ok, that's enough for now.

x A

Baltimore and Washington DC

I think I'm getting into the time here. I slept in untill 6:30am. Which is good considering I have been waking up at 4am. I guess I was also so exhausted from an intense day yesterday.

I caught the 8am train from NY to Baltimore, it was less then 3hrs and really empty, I had enough space for all my luggage and to stretch my legs. Wunderbar! I also had a typical NY breakfast, bagels! I caught a cab to Penn Station in NY mainly because I just couldnt be bothered lugging my crap around the subway. It was only $13 inc. tip, not bad. And I got to drive down Park Ave, see all the museums and embassies and wish I lived there. On the train I was busy taking photos, and they're all on FB. It's pretty amazing how many states are crammed on the East Coast. From NY - MD, I passed through New Jersey, Philadelphia and Delaware before hitting Maryland. Unbelievable.

I was picked up at the BWI station by our family friend, Ania, who is pretty much the nicest person on earth. We then went to this amazing Indian place for lunch, and headed to DC to check out some sights. God, it was so so so hot. But amazing, none-the-less. While we drove into DC, we saw pretty much everything from the car; Capitol Hill, White House, Washington Monument. We walked around and saw them all up close anyway. What a trek!! In that blasted heat too! But it's all really pretty and clean, so I didnt mind. We meandered our way through from the Regan International Building to the Treasury, the White House, The WWII Memorial and the Washington Monument.

If that wasn't exhausting enough, Ania and I then went shopping to Macy's and H&M in Columbia.... I want H&M to be my wardrobe. Just... love. and cheap. and amazing. I'm keeping a lookout for a nice dress to wear for a christening back in Poland/Christmas/NYE/Just out because it's pretty. Found some nice ones, and fair cheap too. (I enjoy being a size 10 in US sizes). However, I need a few more intensive sight-seeing days like the last few to get a comfortable size 8, or even 6!!! (WOW.. I love america and it's sizes).

In fact, I just love america. I totally see the hype now. People are friendly, its so nice, it's pretty, there are SO MANY things to do. Granted, I have only seen the East Coast. A guy I met at the hostel spent some time in LA and said it was the worst decision he had ever made; "California is a collection of everything that is wrong with America" -- direct quote. Well, ok, I love the East Coast. New York and DC are both beautiful. I would love to live in NY... perhaps one day. :-) For the time being, I am snoozing a bit before breakfast.

Love,
-A

New York in a Day.

This is how to see NY in a day, with maximum stuff, minimum cost.

WAKE UP: 8:30, get ready for free breakfast at the hostel at 9am
10am - leave hostel, buy a metro card - 4 trips for $8.00 (save $1.20)
10.30am - arrive grand central station. Take lots of photos, act like an yuppie tourist with mouth hanging open the whole time.
10:45am - get lost... try to figure out how to get to central park
10:47am - buy a bottle of water and an apple-flavoured snapple (disgustingly sweet flavoured iced-tea drink that americans love and have in about 20 flavours) total cost : $3.00
11:00am - 12 noon: walk up 5th avenue, look at the expensive stores, ask questions about things you could never afford, like $10,000 De Beers Diamond tennis bracelets. Don't ask if they serve breakfast and Tiffany's - it's been done. Stop off at St Patricks Cathedral (free entry). Buy cheap postcards at Barnes and Nobel -- $3.27
12 noon - 1pm: wander aimlessly in the rain between 5th, Madison and Lexington. Somehow end up at Crate and Barrow homewares and pretend you're decorating your NY appartment. Wander towards Bloomingdales. Get lunch at Green Cafe. Egg and Cheese Roll with free cup of tea. Total cost of lunch including tip: $4
1:20pm: Go to Bloomingdales. Get scared. Look like a lost rabbit. Leave.
1:40pm: Catch the Subway to 8th St/NYU. Look around east village. Walk to the Forbes Collection (free entry)
2:30pm: get an apple from street vendor: $0.60, Catch the train headed to brooklyn. look a little worried on the ricketiest train in the NYC subway fleet. Get off at the Staten Island Ferry Terminal stop.
3:00pm: Catch the free Staten Island Ferry.
3:30pm: Visit the SI Museum. Student Fare $1
4:45pm: Return to Manhattan.

The long, torturous trip to NYC

Well, I am here in NY and I love it. However, I am so screwed up that I would love anything that is not a plane, or a helicopter or hot air balloon. Anyway, I am glad to be on solid ground. So, lets start from the beginning.

I woke up at 3am today, which was really yesterday, because today is tomorrow. (It makes sense, ok?!) and headed to Adelaide Airport, and yet another surprise, EVERYONE was there!!! I was floored. Thanks to everyone who made the hideously early journey to the airport to see me off. I was sobbing quite a while into my melb flght. In melb, I spoke to the wonderous Amelia for quite a while, as the bloody Syndey and Aukland flights kept getting announced over the PA. However, no amount of annoying PA stuff would save me from the inevitable - a Qantas fuck-up!

My flight was an hr and a half delayed, and as I only had an hr and a half in LA --- I thought I'd miss my flight to NYC. However, since there were about 20 people on the same transfer, they waited for us. (how lovely). No matter how lovely it was, or how nice the new A380 Airbuses are, with individual touchscreens, new bathrooms and skycams, 14.30 hrs on a plane is torture. Especially because I felt sick, had the window seat so had to keep pushing past the two lovely californian ladies next to me (one of whom had the worlds cutest kids!) and Qantas didnt feed us for ages, I thought I would pass out!!! And, all the novelty of the new plane fades quickly especially when the jerk infront of you reclines his chair so you can barely eat your mushy, chalk-tasting vegetarian meal (and yet breakfast was lke rocks... go figure!)

But, I finally made it and had to quickly go through customs (no probs), get my luggage and check in again. It was rush, rush, rush with a 27kg suitcase, a 10kg backpack and a book-filled handbag. I was sweating like crazing in humid Los Angeles. While flying into LA though, I found it so ugly!! But it was so nice to see something that wasnt black and water (even though we flew over the Christmas Islands and Hawaii, it was night and who would see them/care anyway, it's all ocean). I only slept for like 2 hours on that blasted flight.

The flight to NY was wonderful though! Even though I was at the very back on the plane. The views over California, Nevada and Arizona are just amazing - deserts, canyons and mountain ranges. I had some amazing photo ops.

And New York!!! MY GOD! I love it. I was in the bus with my mouth gaping open, it's just like in the movies. It's amazing. Except the people are actually nice. And everyone in America is SO BLOODY HOT! Its like an insanely disproportionate amount of hot people in NY.

I was lucky enough to miss the first bus I could get, so there was amazing views as the city lit up through the fog. The skyline is amazing. Total tourist; mouth gaping like an empty thearte stage. Grand Central Station is also just breath taking. There is a reason they call it GRAND. And on the subway, I constantly had someone to help with my luggage, at the hostel the guys helped me get my shit upstairs. But now, I am so so so HUNGRY.

Peace, guys.

-A