What Flying Feels Like

Where am I now? I'm ecstatic. Sometimes I stop myself and am struck dumb by the reality of what I'm going to be doing soon and where I will be going--and I still can't even fully fathom that "reality." It's incredible. I hear a song that played before I left and I remember where I was at that time (just barely out of a major leap of faith) and then where I am now (flying head over heels on that same wind of faith, higher, stronger, and faster than ever), and I have to hold back joyous tears, so-grateful-that-I-can't-believe-it tears.

I've never been so confident, motivated, or optimistic. I've never been so impressed with other people's creative lawns, vegetarian restaurants, travel experiences, or diligent work outs. I've never cared so much about education...or about getting an education.

Where else am I? I'm back to pre-Moldova weight, almost to pre-first-marathon weight, and starting my last YMCA week before my membership expires. I'm trying to remember how to work out without a gym. I'm going to enjoy this calm week before my (how many times have I said this?) last week of coaching gymnastics. I'm finally relaxed enough to admit that I was avoiding coffee dates and lunch dates because I was nickel-and-dimed for about two months.

And here I am again, closing my eyes, remembering how young I am and grateful that I reminded myself (yet again) to slow down. Laughing that I still tend to forget it. "One year at a time," Grandma said when I told her I wasn't going straight to the PhD. "It's better that way." Oh yes it is! I realized today that I will have graduated from college, run two marathons and one half, served two years with the Peace Corps, and completed my masters degree ALL BEFORE TURNING 25!!!! And WHY ON EARTH do I still have the habit of always thinking about what to cram in next?

Meditation has helped limit that craziness a bit, but I still get caught up, especially now when I feel like my eyes are open to everything.

And this is going to be a full-throttle summer, heading straight into a full-speed academic year. So I will prepare for the full span as much as possible so that I can enjoy one while it is happening instead of thinking about what I need to do for the next.

Side note: My readjustment to America seems perfectly normal now...except when I still find myself COMPLETELY psycho in Trader Joe's. "Do you want to find a treat, Sammy?" Michael asked, oh-so-kindly. "But I want everything!" I said. "How about one healthy little treat?" he suggested. "Ok," I smiled as if I was getting away with theft. I couldn't focus on my brother (or the task at hand, for that matter) because my eyes couldn't stop spinning around, trying to take in every new type of granola, every spice, every type of honey!

Oh and then there's the shyness, the not wanting to drive somewhere that requires looking for parking, and the not wanting to go to parties by myself. "Samantha, you just spent two years in Moldova; you can go to a party by yourself!!!" I tell myself. (Of course there's the necessary "Sam, it's really easy," reassurance from Kimmy that helped get me out the door, too!) It usually works and I have had a great time, been recognized by people I swore had forgotten me, made a new friend, and found the world's best parking spot!

And now the same logic applies to the "It's so cold in Boston" conversation. Man, I spent two insulation-less, heat-by-coal winters in Moldova...I CAN DO ANYTHING!

Catfish and Cactus on my California Weekend

As a family, we had a very over-the-top/academic/California weekend:

1. Brother flew in (oh, just for the weekend) from his business trip (in Vegas, of course);
2. Ate catfish, salmon, practically an entire top sirloin, and a tasty green cake;
3. Sunbathed;
4. Brother took a practice GMAT;
5. Parents had a study date: Dad went to school to research his paper and Mom hung out at the university because she could read there, too--in the sunshine, of course;
6. Went in the jacuzzi;
7. Discussed Dad's "history of history" paper;
8. Saw an old friend;
9. Said goodbye to a good friend and a much-closer-to-empty house;
10. Helped Dad dig holes for a cactus garden.