The First Concert . . . Friday

I’m drunk. 

It’s a lovely feeling really. 

In my ‘former life’ (I might start calling my Cleveland life as such) . ..but in my ‘former life’ I didn’t have that many opportunities to go out  and have a good time with my friends.  It took a lot of planning to actually make such things happen.  Often I wondered if I avoided such situations because I was still scared of people.   Here?  Here this is the norm.   Here we drink at rehearsal breaks and after rehearsal . . and then after a concert?   This is when we get drunk. 

Pardon my use of the term drunk . .it’s more ‘tipsy’.  A happy, slightly floaty feeling.  Not the “omg I’m going to be sick” feeling of being truly drunk. 

The concert went well today.   We rehearsed this morning (8:30 am to about 10 am), and then sat in the plaza at our little restaurant for a few hours.  Café!  Con Leche!  Fantastic stuff!   Then we rode the bus to Yoga (first time on a Mexican bus!  Oy!!  What an experience!).  

The bus was . . . what did the harpist call it?   . . . Ghetto Fabulous!  We tried to make my Italian friend (and hotel neighbor / friend by situation) Davide understand what Ghetto Fabulous meant.   The harpist said “you know when something is shit?  That’s ghetto.  Well this is SO MUCH shit that it’s fabulous!”  He laughed, but I’m still not sure he got it. 

Yoga was incredible today.  We had a new instructor, and the class was restorativeo. . . or ‘restorative’. Our Wednesday and Friday classes were set up just for the orchestra!  How wonderful!  But since we have concerts on Fridays . . . Fridays are our relaxation session.  It was still difficult!  She would walk around the class and push on areas that needed work for each individual.   She spent quite a bit of time with my poor feet.  Even though she spoke Spanish for the whole class .. I figured most things out.  I’m thinking Yoga is going to be JUST what I need!

After Yoga, Davide, Rob, Rosario and myself went to lunch at a typical Mexican restaurant.  I had 2 tacos con Arreche (I think) which is marinated skirt steak with cheese.  Then I had one taco Peon, which is the Yucutecan way of cooking pork.  (on a big spit . . similar to a MASSIVE Kebab!)

** ended up falling asleep in a warm, tipsy haze . . the rest of the blog is written the next morning**

The food was fantastic.  In  conversation over lunch, Rob informed me that food here is often slowly cooked, and always incredible.  He says that he’s never eaten better than since he’s lived in Mexico.  And he’s lived in Florida, Cleveland, Boston and a few other interesting places.  So I’ll take his word for it.  And if lunch was any indication . . .he’s absolutely right. The food was juicy and fresh and delicious.  So very very different from restaurant food in the US.  The food here has FLAVOR.  And it’s not just SALT providing flavor.  They know how to use ingredients to compliment the types of food that you are eating.  It’s really fantastic.  I’m looking forward to many more meals here in Mexico. 

After lunch, I spent some time chatting to the fam on Skype (what a lifesaver that is!) and then relaxed in my room for a bit before dressing for the concert. 

Mind you. . . I’m used to wearing concert black mostly when it’s chilly out.  And even when it’s warm . . . it’s nothing like this.  I dressed in some of the lightest concert black I’ve ever had  . . . and even though we did not leave the hotel until 8pm and the sun was fully down . . . the humidity was impressive.  I felt bad for the guys who were stuck in “Smoking Jackets” as they call them here.  (Otherwise known as tuxes).  Yuck!  Us girls are the lucky ones.  We can wear just about anything we like as long as it covers our kness.  So tomorrow you can bet I’ll be in a sleeveless shirt since the concert is in the middle of the day.  Whew!!

As I stated earlier, the concert went well (even though my lips ended up on the other end of my horn by the end.   Great music, but quite a pull for us horn players . . high and loud pretty much the whole time!  Whew!).  The concert was all Mexican music . . . and WOW was it loud.  The horn parts were screamingly high and quite tiring.  But the crowd loved it . . . and gave us all a standing ovation. 

Afterwards we sat at the Café next to the ‘teatro’ and drank!  I also ate dinner, since I hadn’t eaten food since earlier that afternoon.   At the table to my right were 3 Americans . . my friend Rob the trumpet player, Jim the trombone player and Charlie the string bass player.  Supposedly he has about 3 zillion cats.  And he’s rather frustrated about the whole thing.  lol

To my left was the ‘international’ group.  Davide, the Italian horn player; Ruth the New York/British harpist; Samuel, the Frenchman French Horn player (insert eye rolling joke here); JuanJo (Wan-ho) the Spanish principal horn player and his wife.  All around us at different tables were different members of the orchestra.   “Salud” is very popular . . . one person says it and EVERYONE clinks bottles and glasses together.  Every time.  This happened quite a bit. 

I kind-of bounced back and forth between both ends of our long table. Rob and I talked about college at BW and all the crazy things that went on there (including the fact that he doesn’t remember my 21’st birthday . . . hilarious considering he matched me drink for drink at the bar).  We also talked about crazy brass instruments, and mostly music dork stuff.  The other side of the table had a wide range of conversations . . . from commuting in the city, to picking on the harp player (she’s  a good sport and an incredibly sweet girl), to exercise, to yoga, to the Italian language, the French language and all other things in-between. 

All in all it was a wonderful evening that left me in a MUCH better state that hasn’t dissipated today.  I woke up with an incredibly different outlook on my situation than I had the evening before. 

I could be getting used to it here.  J

Day 3 . . . Wednesday

So Wednesday started off on a MUCH better note . . . and it sure is amazing how that can change your entire day!   I made it to rehearsal about 30 minutes prior to it starting (unlike the day before!).  We again had a short rehearsal . . . and I knew there was Yoga going on after . . . so I bugged Rob and he agreed to take me along.   We both ended up riding with Sam who kindly drove me back to my hotel so I could get a change of clothes.  It was HOT out but I was looking forward to yoga in the heat! 

My first Yoga class was exciting.  Claudia, the instructor, took pity on my poor non-Spanish speaking self and taught the class in very good English.  This was a ‘fire yoga’ class, therefore we were there for aerobic yoga . . .and to sweat.  There were many things I couldn’t do (my ankles and feet are not at ALL flexible) . . and many things I could do (I guess my hips are more flexibile than I thought.)  Needless to say I thoroughly enjoyed the class . . . it gives me something new to push myself towards.  Flexibility and strength! 

Rob and his wife Rosario both attended the class, and offered to take us out to lunch after.  They drove us to this lovely Yucatecan restaurant (which I unfortunately cannot remember the name of at the moment), where we had dos tacos arrachera . . . which is essentially a superbly marinated skirt steak with a lovely mild queso (cheese).  It was incredibly good (and it’s currently making me hungry to type this!).  We then tried a taco Al Pastor . . which is a traditional Yucatecan dish.  It’s marinated BBQ (kindof) pork that’s cooked on a GIANT skewer . . . so when you see the meat, it looks like a massive spinning top . . (like the toy). . .it’s pretty neat!  They slice it off as it slowly spins on a spit.  It was delicious. 

After lunch, Rob dropped us back to the hotel (Davide and I), and I set out for finding the bank.  I STILL had no cash so it was about time I found myself an ATM.   Rob had told me the general direction . . . so I wandered out to the Plaza Santiago (each little ‘suburb’ of Centro has it’s own little plaza . . which is a lovely little brick and pavement area with trees and benches  . . . and free wi-fi!).  After a quick walk to Santiago . . . I continued down the road I was instructed and what did I find . .

An ATM!!!!!!!  Thank god!!  I still had no clue how much money I needed so I settled on an amount that seemed ridiculous to me (but only ended up being about $100 bucks) and happily grabbed my cash.  Now  . . . Mexican pesos are CRAZY looking.  And they feel like plastic!  And they have pretty little clear parts . . almost like itty bitty stained glass windows . . . right in the money!  Like a watermark . . only much cooler.  But seriously it feels like I’m playing with Monopoly money! 

So with my newly obtained cash . . . I took myself straight to Oxxo (the convenience store here in Mexico) and I bought myself some staples.  A big jug of water, some breakfast bars, some bananas . . . and some chocolate chip cookies.  (oops)  I was still a bit emotional from Monday . . . and the sugar did the trick.  I returned to the hotel . . turned on the TV . . munched on my cookies and passed out.  (The heat is amazingly exhausting.  You don’t know it until you’ve walked a few miles in 90 to 100 degree weather and you feel like you just ran a 10 mile race.  Craziness!  

The Second Day . . .

I woke up early Tuesday morning, knowing that I had to walk to a place that I only had a vague idea of how to get to . . . or even what it looked like when I got there.   I didn’t know the name of the building, or even the address.  (now, a smart girl would have hopped on the internet that morning and gotten that information, but . . . this smart girl wasn’t in her right mind.) 

Jorge had told me that the theater (teatro!) was 6 blocks “down” and two blocks to the right.  I could do that no problemo!  So I dressed comfortably (jean capri’s and a loose cotton shirt), a pair of flipflops, and horn on my back, off I went to find the Teatro!   I walked 6 blocks “down”, took a right and went 2 blocks. . . and found myself definitely NOT at the theater.  Shit.  So now what?  I looked around and remembered the theater was in a plaza of sorts . . so I looked for the biggest building I could find, and started walking towards it.  I ended up at the plaza grande (though I wouldn’t know it was called that for a few more days).  Things looked sorta familiar . . but everything in this place looks so much the same that I really wasn’t sure of myself.  I stopped and asked one of the police on the street corner where the “teatro!” was.  He says . . . “which one?”.   Shit.  I have no idea.  I say to him “Symphony Orchestra?” . . he gives me a blank stare and points out 3 different theaters.  They all look the same to me.  I wander into one of them . . it looks like a huge courtyard.  I hang around, hoping to see some musicians . . . nothin.  Nada mas.  So I book it out the door and ask the same cop (who recognizes me now) where the other theaters were.  He points me in the general direction.  I head back across town towards a different theater. I get there and know this is DEFINITELY not the one . . . it’s a movie theater.  Balls.  So I head back . . . I had to be in the general vicinity.  It’s getting close to the start of rehearsal and I’m starting to panic.  (notice a running theme here?)  I have a thing about being late for rehearsal . . . it’s a fate worse than death to me. 

And now the sun is REALLY starting to get hot.  I walk by the same cop again and he grins a wide toothy grin at me and holds both his hands in the air as if to say “no luck? Still lost?”.  I responded with the same gesture and he chuckles and goes back to what he’s doing (directing traffic).  I walk around some promising areas but find nothing that would lead me to believe an orchestra rehearsal was going on inside.   Shitshitshit.   At this point I’m about an hour late for rehearsal.  I look at my phone clock and decide this is useless and that I’m going to go home.  But I’ve been so far all over the place that I have NO idea how to get back to the hotel.  I start to panic again and figure that I’ll just wander.. eventually I have to find it right?  (deargodpleaseletmefindthisplacefuckingmexico!)  So I picked a direction that I figured was correct and start walking.  Just then I hear “Amiga!  Amiga!!!  Orchestra?!?!”

JESUSHCHRIST!  They sent someone out to look for me and the guy actually found me!  How the hell we ran into each other I have NO idea but I am SO SO SO glad to see that kid in a YSO shirt that I just about bust out in tears.  Again.  In effing public no less.  What is happening to me down here?!?! 

By the time I got to rehearsal I was DRENCHED with sweat.  The sweet boy who found me in the street brought me a bottle of water.   The horn section does a silent cheer when I show up (they all thought I went home!  lol)

Finally I’m where I understand . . . no matter what language is spoken . . . here, I am in control.  I still have no money, I have no phone, I have no idea where I am . . . but now I know I will be safe!

I meet Davide (Daah-vi-day), a boisterous man from Italy.  Samuel (Sam-well), the Frenchman with the smiling eyes, and JuanJo (Wan-ho), the principal horn player from Mexico.  Once break time rolls around (I made it before break woohoo!), I finally run into Rob (the only person in the orchestra that I actually know . . . he and I went to school together at BW . . we were in brass quintet together, he was at my 21^st birthday party, etcetc.)  And then as people introduce themselves to me, this is when I learn that Mexico is similar to Europe . . . you say hello with a kiss!  (on the cheek, but a kiss nonetheless).   I still can’t remember all the names of the people I’ve been introduced to . . but as we spend more time together I’m sure I’ll get to know everyone. 

I learn that Davide is staying in the same hotel as I am .. . so he agrees to walk back with me after rehearsal so I don’t get lost.  Rob mentions that he has to teach today, and has yoga the next but we’ll hang out soon.  I jumped on the Yoga and asked if I could join . . I needed to get involved in SOMETHING.  He was extremely obliging and promised to give me info later. 

After rehearsal, all the musicians gathered at the little café next to the rehearsal hall.  I’m introduced to Mary, the ‘woman’ of the house.  It seems the musicians keep this little café running . . . this was the first rehearsal after a 2+ month summer break, so she was VERY happy to see everyone. 

Now, I have to describe café’s in Mexico.  This is not an establishment that you walk into.  This is the same as any store you find here . . . with the rolling metal doors.  Once those doors open, there’s just an open hole in the wall where the owner will drag out tables and chairs, right into the walk way (don’t worry, I’ll take pictures!).  There is no air conditioning, no incredible service. If you want water. . you go get it yourself from the water cooler in the back.  If you want something to eat there are sandwiches on the bar or you order one of the few things she offers during the day (ham or turkey sandwich, or the local pork sandwich who’s name escapes me right now).  

After rehearsal you’ll find most of the musicians gathered here.  Some just stand around and chat, most sit down and have a Cerveza or Café.  That first rehearsal I had no money, so Davide bought me a beer (Dos Equis Amber).  Now . . I’m not a huge beer drinker . . . but for some reason even beer tastes better here! 

I followed Davide home, relieved that I had someone to walk with.  Also, he’s a very interesting character so our conversation continued pretty well . . . especially considering his English isn’t his first language and he struggles with it from time to time. 

Once we returned to the hotel I found out that we were not only staying in the same hotel, we were right next door to one another!  (I’m in room 3, he’s in 2!).  If only I had known that my first day would have been much less stressful and I totally would have walked with him that morning. 

Oh well.  Cest La Vie, right?  ;)  (I wonder what that is 'en espanol')  :)

Needless to say, I felt a bit better about the situation on Tuesday.  I was still a bit apprehensive, but at least I had something to reference now.  I ended up getting a bit brave and wandering back to the store.  I still had no cash, but at least I could use my debit card at the store in a pinch, and that’s exactly what I did.  After I got something to eat, I went and sat online with the folks (again, thank God for Skype!). 

I didn’t do much the rest of that day as I wasn’t feeling very adventurous.  But at least I wasn’t blind with panic like I was the day before.  

Day two = MUCH better than day one!! 

My first day . . .

2 weeks of incredible stress and emotions lead up to Labor Day . . . the day I left the US for Mexico.  I’m writing this blog a few days later as the stress and un-organization of my first few days in the Yucatan didn’t leave me much desire to be creative with words. 

I woke up Monday morning around 3:45 am . . after having slept only about 3 hours.  I woke up with a feeling that I’d probably describe as dread.  I was excited about my adventure, but this was the first time I was going to be truly leaving my family.  Not for just a quick trip, not for just a visit . . . but I was moving away.  I no longer have an apartment in the USA.  I no longer have a JOB in the USA. And that idea really freaked me out!  More than I ever expected it would. 

I spent the morning packing up and making sure everything was ready to go.  I spent a bit of time with the kitties . . . I had to leave them behind for a month.  This tears me apart, even know (as my previous blogs will suggest.)  I’m not as worried as I was, but I’m still worried about them.   I have an incredible connection with animals.  I think it has to do with the fact that they depend on me.  They can’t talk back to me and I know their love is unlimited and boundless.  I often attach to animals quicker and deeper than I do to humans because I know I won’t be hurt by them, not on purpose.  The only time I feel pain is if they are in pain or if they pass.  They don’t judge me . . . they just accept things as it is.  And they are always happy to see me.  So to be the person that causes them stress and fear is very distressing to me. 

But as I’ve been told by many people . . they will be ok.  They only act out because *I* stress out . . . so in essence I cause them more stress than they would feel in the first place!  Go me!  It frustrates me, because my head knows better.  My brain knows they will be just fine, and they will adapt quickly . . . but my heart breaks a little every time I think about it.  I can’t help it! 

Anyway . . . I’ve gotten off on a tangent.  At 5 am, we packed up the truck with 2 ridiculously heavy suitcases, my horn case and my purse (aka laptop bag, aka kitchen sink carrier).  I got in the car . . . and I cried.  Now for those that know me . . . I don’t do crying.  It’s not something I do.  It’s mortifying to me to let people see that intimate side of me.  But this day?  I couldn’t help myself.  And it wouldn’t be the only time. 

We got to the airport and I said bye to Dad at the truck.  I cried again.  Damn these tears.  Mom walked with me into the terminal where I checked in.  It’s amazing how few people are at the airport that early in the morning!  I sent my checked bags through security and said bye to Mom.  More tears!  In truth, my family is SO important in my life.  I have the most amazing parents in the world . . . and have never been further than an hour and a half drive from them . . . in my entire life!  So this was quite a life changing experience for me.  Hence the tears. I was heading into uncharted territory. 

I killed time finding breakfast and relaxing at the gate. I was nervous and apprehensive and I really didn’t know what I was in for.  Finally we boarded the plane to Chicago.  The plane was small, and I was able to change seats so I didn’t have to check my horn.  I’m fiercely protective of my horn (kinda like my cats in a way), so I was ready to do battle.  Thankfully, the entire trip went off without a hitch . . . thank you United Airlines for being so accommodating! 

This turned out to be the most emotional plane flight I’ve ever taken.  I remember when I was little . . maybe 8 (or so . . maybe older I don’t quite remember) , my parents put me on a little plane by myself  to go visit my grandmother in Kentucky.  I remember being on the plane . . and being excited to be by myself . . but as soon as the plane started moving I freaked out and started crying.   Obviously this was a while ago because I remember my parents waving at the gate window watching the plane pull away.  The feeling of leaving Cleveland was not unlike that first solo plane ride so many years ago.  I hate to admit it . . . but Cleveland is my home.  I know it and love it and have grown up there . . . into the person that I am today.   And pulling away in that plane, knowing that I was no longer going to be living in the land of Cleve was incredibly emotional (I can feel my throat getting tight just writing this).  I formed and then changed my entire life in that town.  I became who I am . . . forged incredible friendships and incredible networks (music and corporate) in that town and I was leaving the safety of what I knew for something completely unknown.   As the plane took off and I watched Cleveland get smaller . . . I was flooded with emotion . . . fear, sadness, love, more fear.  I’m glad I was sitting alone in that seat because again, I cried.   I tried to hold it in but there was nothing stopping this one.  I put on a good mask in front of people . . I hide quite a lot of emotion . . . but when it comes down to it . . . I am an EXTREMELY emotional person and there was no holding back on Monday. 

Thankfully the trip to Chicago was quick and bumpy . . . and by the time we landed I was a bit numb from all the emotion.   It was a good thing truthfully . . . it let me relax a little bit.  I had an hour and a half to kill before my next flight out . . . so I stopped at Starbucks, got my usual cup of coffee (which was oddly therapeutic) and sat at the gate waiting on my flight. 

As this was a flight to Cancun, you can imagine who I was traveling with.  Dozens of newlyweds and a few too skinny/too tan society type ladies heading off to get more sun.  I felt incredibly out of place.  The plane itself was incredible.  There was plenty of leg room and the seats were cushy and comfortable.  A newly married couple behind me had relations with the airline, and received a HUGE gift basket of food once they boarded .. . which they proceeded to share with the entire plane.  The atmosphere was light and happy and completely opposite of what I was feeling!  I never felt more alone than I did on that plane. 

I probably slept the entire flight (in bits and spurts).  The flight was only 3 hours long (3 hours!!!). . . but it felt like EONS to me as I flew towards a new life.  I got my first glimpse of the water in the Gulf as we prepared to land . . . and I do have to admit . . the turquoise color of the water made me smile.  A brightly colored note in my rather bleak day so far.  Flying over the land brought unfamiliar sights . . . you really don’t see anything other than jungle.  Thick, dense jungle.  But it was incredibly green.  Looking out the window, you’d have no idea how warm it was out there.  Everything just sparkled. 

We were finally able to deplane, and I got my first feeling of the heat.  It was an amazing feeling.  Truthfully, it’s not that HOT . . . but the humidity makes it a bit suffocating.  I’ve already begun to get used to it . . . but by the time my bags made their way around the carousel . . . I was already sweating.  Inside. 

The first thing that hit me once I entered the building was something that I’m going to get very used  to here in the Yucatan.  The musty, moldy smell.  Because of the humidity . . . everything is WET.  And it stays that way.  So mold grows like crazy in these areas.  There are musicians that left their instruments here before going on vacation . . . and they returned to instruments covered in mold.  Incredible!   I’ve been told to save the silica packets that come when you buy new equipment . . and to pack them in anything that’s going to stay here in the Yucatan . . . otherwise it will grow mold!  The airport smelled of mold . . . my hotel room smells musty . . the bank here in town smells of mold.  It’s pretty unnerving!

I finally made it through customs (after one of the guards raped my handbag . . not sure what he was looking for but he tore everything out of it . . then put it all back and said “vamonos!”. . . ook thanks!) and met my ride.  Jorge (I believe that is his name) had a big white sign with my name on it.  I felt like a celebrity.  Unfortunately Jorge didn’t speak any English . . . and I was doomed to a 4 hour car trip . . spent in silence. 

I was told that when I arrived my ride (Jorge I guess) would help me get money, show me to my hotel and then show me to the theater (as I had rehearsal the very next morning.)

Jorge drove like a madman through the incredible countryside (the butterflies here are awe inspiring.  And they are EVERYWHERE!  I will try to catch some pictures!  They are more in the jungle than the city, but I’ve seen some huge ones around.)   The road is a direct shot from Cancun to Merida . . . there are no exits. . . there are no entrances.  Not like a highway you know in the us.  All around you is jungle . . . and this 4 lane highway.  There are many ‘ritorno’s’ . .. basically they let you do a U-turn and head back the way you came.  Otherwise . . that’s it.  And there was NO ONE on the road with us.  I think we passed 2 cars.  We also passed a few wayward Mexicans on bicycles.  Can you imagine?  A 4 hour trip by car . . . I don’t even want to know how long it took those men to make that trip by bike.  (These bikes are 3 wheelers with wooden pallets on the back . . the street vendors use these to sell their wares  pretty much everywhere here in Mexico.) 

My first impression of Mexico was destitute.  What you see in the resorts is not at all what you get in the rest of the country.  It’s so incredibly poor.  The roads are a mess and full of potholes big enough to swallow an entire wheel.   People just go around them.  The buildings are small, brightly colored and incredibly run down.  It’s very dirty . . not like what I’m used to seeing in the US.  There are no manicured lawns or pretty store fronts.  A typical store front is a large rolling metal slat door with an entrance door cut into the middle of it.  If there is a lovely store front . . . no one goes in because it’s too expensive.  Restaurants and businesses go in and out of business here quicker than you can blink an eye. 

Jorge drove me through the city . . . still not saying anything.  We drove by some gorgeous,ancient buildings surrounded by poverty.  He drove by one newer looking building and pointed and said “Teatro!” and kept on driving.  I felt slightly panicked, because I hoped he was going to take me back there.  This city is incredibly confusing . . . it all looks the same. 

He then delivered me to my hotel.  Hotel El Cid.  Very depressing place.  I have a front room . . a “kitchen” ( a room with a tiny counter and a very vintage sink), a grungy looking bathroom and a bedroom in the back with 2 double beds that are HIDEOUSLY uncomfortable.  He tried to give me directions to the theater and left me there . . . with no money, no food, and NO idea where I was or what I was doing. 

Needless to say I panicked.  I asked the guy at the front desk about an ATM close by and he said . . “ummm. . . . no” and shook his head.  Great.  Then he said “free Wi-Fi in lobby!” . . . THANK YOU GOD.  So I walked into my room . . . sat down on one of the beds and I cried.  I SOBBED.  What the hell was I doing here?  Was I crazy?  This is ridiculous what was I thinking coming to a 3^rd world country thinking I could work and survive here.  I wanted my mommy!

So that’s exactly what I did.  I went to the lobby, figured out how to get on the wi-fi and I skyped Mom and Dad.  I told them everything . . . and then THEY panicked!  (can’t say I blame them. . . sorry guys!).  Needless to say a few hours and a few emails later (by me and by them) and I had dinner delivered to my room (Domino’s Pizza for crying out loud)  and a huge bottle of water.  I ate my food and tried to get some sleep. 

Craziest first day of my life. 

As this is getting ridiculously long . . . I’m going to end here and I’ll continue a little later!

Who signed me up for this shit?

Every so often I want to scream "JUST JOKING!" and put everything back where it should be and go about my life.  (especially today). 

This is crazy.  What am I doing?  What am I putting my cats through?  (we had a rough time at the vet today).  What am I putting my parents and friends through?  Why am I doing this to myself?? (I had a rough time at a friends last night). 

Yes. . . I will be going.  And yes, we will all make it through this with flying colors.  The kitties will have a fun, warm new home to play in, I'll have a fun new climate to play in, and I'll meet all sorts of new people.  And I'll get to be a musician!  Full time!

But right now, at this moment?

I'm terrified. 

Panic

I'm sure I've been under quite a bit of stress with this whole situation . . . having to pack up and essentially vacate my apartment in a matter of two weeks, all while trying to prepare myself for life in a new country.  Paperwork needed to get done, I needed to procure things to make my life easier, I needed to stock up on stuff I might not be able to find where I'll be living.  Oh yeah, and there's that whole "leaving my job in a world of hurt" situation that I'm trying to educate co-workers on as quickly as possible.

I mentioned my kitties in my first post, but didn't go into much detail.  I have two incredible kitties that have to stay behind for a month while I find myself an apartment so they can come down and live with me.  But due to my Orchestra schedule, I won't be able to come get them.  They are going to be cargo shipped to me.

*blind panic*

I've heard horror stories of people shipping pets only to receive them . . . well.  Lets not go there.  I've also read many many good stories as well . . . so I'm going to have to just keep those in the forefront of my brain.

Needless to say I'm terrified for them.   And of course they can sense my tension and they come winding around my ankles and purring.  They ask to be picked up and nuzzle me and I feel like such an evil ogre!  They don't know what's coming!  They just know I'm stressed and want to make mama feel better.  UGH.

Now . . . I know they will be ok.  I'm 98% sure they will be ok.  But I am my Mothers daughter . . and when it comes to animals I'm the biggest mushball/worrywart that you'll ever meet.  And I'm becoming a professional worrier about my two kitties. (Even my Mother is threatening to slap the shit out of me.  Thanks Mom.)

But the only other alternative I have is for them to spend the next 3+ months in my parents basement.  Where the kitchen is being gutted and re-done.  So one crazy day where they get to come 'home' to me?  Or 3+ crazy months in a house they don't really know, in a basement with construction noise?

Yeah.  I think I'll take my chances on the cargo trip.

Continental has a pet program . . . the cargo area is temp controlled and pressurized.  So they won't freeze.  Yes they will panic . . they won't know whats going on.  But they won't be abused and they'll eventually settle down for the flight (I hope!).  I know they will panic again when they hear me  . . but at least they'll be just about done with the whole ordeal.  I'm going to plan to have a few days to let them relax and get used to their new surroundings.  They'll probably take a while to chill out and become themselves again.  But I know it will happen, and they'll be ok.

I think I'll be worse off than they will!

Bulletin

I interrupt this stress-fest with some happy news . . .


I would like to welcome my newest "nephew" into the world!!  My best friend just delivered her newest bundle of joy today around 6pm (I don't have the official time yet).   His name is Matthew Anthony and he's joining an incredible family made up of Mommy, Daddy, and THREE older sisters!  Boy are you in for some fun kid! 

Mommy's water broke about 30 minutes after I left her house last night (after teasing her that the stairs might induce labor.  WHEW!  Was I right or what?!?!?!)  ;)   She was in labor a looong time!!! 

Obviously Mr. Matthewpants wanted to meet his most favorite faux Auntie in the whole wide world before she flew off to Mexico.  Good timing kiddo!!! 
Congratulations my bestest friend in the whole wide world.  I can't wait to meet the little man.  (I'll get to meet him tomorrow (Tuesday August 31st)).  I can't wait! 

All my love!!! 

~'Auntie' MereMere