I've decided to collect my recent Facebook posts and present them to you here, and also invite you to follow me there, until I find the time to design a blog that feels more like my current self. You can find me at www.facebook.com/graciepauline and/or on Instagram @gracieseyes
Bis dann!
Tchüss!
September 22, 2016 (San Francisco, CA)
Today is the day I start my latest adventure for real. I was scheduled to fly out of San Francisco to Iceland at noon and then on to Germany, but my flight was canceled.
The airline put me up in a beautiful executive suite at a posh hotel, and I'll try again in the morning. And it looks like I'll have to spend another night in Iceland before arriving in Frankfurt, but that's awesome! I was planning to try and get out of the airport anyways to get a glimpse of what it's like over there. But my favorite part of today is that I haven't had to say goodbye to Steve and Hailey yet, because you guys, I don't know how. I kept bursting into tears on the drive down, and I couldn't breathe. There was a wreck on the Bay Bridge and we were two hours later than we planned to be, which meant I was going to have to check in and run for security, where I would have been an utter ruin of a person.
This way we got to jump up and down on the bed together, get Japanese food for lunch, and cuddle for a while before they have to go home without me.
I keep putting my hand on Steve and saying, "I can still touch you..."
It's going to be amazing, I know. And this is probably the hardest part, I know. But if you think of me, I could use a little courage.
September 24, 2016 (Amsterdam Schiphol Airport)The tour of world capitals continues, and I am being rerouted through Amsterdam because of the domino effect that happened when the first flight was cancelled.
I spent a few hours last night in Iceland where everything and everyone was wonderful. I'm in love with the country, the people, and the language. I agree that toilets should be called Snyrtingar, and I settled on Bláber for breakfast.
I'm very sad that I didn't get to try the food or see it in the daytime, and I am coming back to learn Icelandic and perhaps do something with sheep.
But for now, I have four hours until my next flight and if I hurry I can see the city a bit and still make the boarding call. Tschüß!
I honestly did not know what to point my camera at. Amsterdam!
September 25, 2016 (Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands)
He was playing I've Got Rhythm. I put dollars in his music case and the guy on the bike insists that he'll take them to America rather than exchange them. I think that mad dash into the city on the bus (the trains weren't working) was one of my favorite things I've ever done and the best 10€ I've ever spent. The first 10€, actually. It was hard to make anything seem real - I'm experiencing moments I've waited so long for, and the scenes before my eyes were straight out of movies. I heard that distinctive European police siren for the first time, and I stopped on the street and recorded it. Bucket list, haha :) The air was full of the smells of food, the sea, tobacco and marijuana. There were almost as many bikes as cars, with their own lanes and everything. It took me a bit to understand how it worked, and one poor guy had to shout at me. It was in French though, so I just thought it was charming and I don't think that was the effect he was after. One girl was riding a bike, upright as a lamppost, wearing a floral dress that swirled around her with the lovely buildings and canal and blossoms in the background - I think I stood there gaping like a fish. I'll have to get that under control. In the meantime, I woke up in Germany and I can't stop smiling.
September 25, 2016 (Rheinstrand Mainz-Kastel)
The problem with speaking in German is that people tend to reply in kind, leaving me feeling like I did on the first day of my political development class, which is to say lost and unable to hide it. But my horrific attempts have earned me smiles and tolerance, and the more I do it the braver I get. That's the Rhine in the background, and in the foreground, a bottle of the most expensive water I've ever had, and not at all what I was expecting. If I don't learn the language quickly I may go broke 😳 It's Sunday afternoon, and most shops and businesses are closed. People are out together, walking and drinking and enjoying the sun. I'm wandering around thoroughly lost and happy. (Until I buy a SIM card for my phone I only have wifi - I downloaded a wifi finder app but you need wifi to search for the wifi spots...) But I found an open bookstore and a very helpful man, and am connected and found for the moment.September 26, 2016
I never know where to begin a story. The roots always seem so deep, and I guess I'm trying to find the point that will deliver the emotional weight that I feel -
Back when we lived in Phoenix I started listening to NPR and I heard an interview with an author named Kiran Desai. Her debut novel had taken her eight years to write, and with it she won the Man Booker Prize for fiction. I was so interested that I went out and got the book, and thus began my quest to read all the Man Booker Prize winners. And when I finish that I want to read everyone who was shortlisted, and if I'm still alive, everyone who was longlisted for it. This particular category of fiction appeals to me for its diversity (up until very recently American authors were unable to receive it), for the distinctive tone of the stories, and for the powerful way each winning novel I've read has affected me; one aspect being that they have exponentially increased my need to go - everywhere.
So I brought Kiran Desai's book The Inheritance of Loss with me on the plane, and I stumbled across this paragraph again:
"Books were making her restless. She was beginning to read, faster, more, until she was inside the narrative and the narrative inside her, the pages going by so fast, her heart in her chest - she couldn't stop. In this way she had read To Kill a Mockingbird, Cider with Rosie, and Life with Father from the Gymkhana Club library. And pictures of the chocolaty Amazon, of stark Patagonia in the National Geographics, a transparent butterfly snail in the sea, even of an old Japanese house slumbering in the snow...She found they affected her so much she could often hardly read the accompanying words - the feeling they created was so exquisite, the desire so painful."All this to say, this quote I read you is *so* me. My mom and dad collected National Geographic magazines when I was growing up, and some of my very early memories, on to some of my very recent memories, are of devouring every page of those beloved journals until I couldn't breathe for wanting to just go -
and here I am.I can't stand it.
I don't know what to do with myself - I feel capable of crying, or jumping up and down, or - I don't know what. So I just walk. And smile pretty much non-stop. And sometimes I do cry. A guy in Amsterdam gave me a cappuccino and that set me off. So did a church in Wiesbaden yesterday.
I'm a train ride away from everything I've ever wanted to see and do.
And this time, I don't have to be so alone. I have lovely friends here, and my boys are coming soon. I don't know the words to express how I feel toward Steve and Hailey for this gift they're giving me, to graciously consent to life without Mom for ten months so I can run after my stubborn, willful, anachronistic, wild heart.
I can't stand it. So I'm off to go walk.
September 27, 2016
This lovely creation is called a latte macchiato and is the drink of choice around here. I'm in a cafe enjoying a few moments of safety before I let go of everything I know how to do and plunge into a world where I pretty much get everything wrong. I'm grateful for the experiences that have taught me that this phase is short and not as catastrophic as it feels. Yesterday I went shopping at a grocery store. Gosh it was fun! Everything is so cute and tiny, even the shopping carts, I love it. Groceries are cheap and the stores are packed with things that are completely foreign, which is perfect for a grace-type person. When I went to check out I assumed that I could buy a bag, since I didn't bring one, and I asked the cashier about it. "Haben Sie eine Einkaufstasche?" I asked politely. She looked as shocked and offended as if I'd said something awful about her mother. "Unter die Kasse!" she shouted and pointed - me and all the other people behind me surveyed the area in question and there the bags were, orderly and labeled below the conveyor belt. All the shoppers had to back up, causing quite a commotion, while I squeezed back through and grabbed the first one I came to, which turned out to be big enough to put a small child in, earning me more looks. Then they all had to wait while I put the three little things I'd bought in the massive bag because there were only about ten square inches of space in the bagging area and I was using all of them. I was thinking to myself, "Lady, it's Day 2. Calm down. I'll get it." But I found out later that I was at a discount store, and the cashiers have to process a certain amount of customers and groceries per hour to keep their jobs. Now I feel bad for her, and when I'm a bit more confident maybe I'll go back and buy a ton of things at once and she can have a five minute break. But it's real work in the real world today. The boys arrive pretty shortly and it would be good if I had a place to live by then. I keep hoping that the same force that has gotten me here with such consideration, against such unbelievable odds, remembers the relative importance of a residence! Here I go...
