Nathalie's Notes

Laughing about it later ...

All this flooding in the news reminds me of our adventures living on the Oregon Coast. These two memories are examples of the kind of thing that isn't so funny at the time but ...

Matt came home from work at 10 a.m. because school had been canceled due to flooding and water levels were expected to continue rising. It was our first flood season on the coast. In our defense, we really didn't know better. We decided it'd be fun to check out the rising rivers. I was thinking it would make a neat scrapbook page. It turned into a $300 page when we had to get the truck fixed due to water damage. How cool did we feel?

What's a kid in Tillamook to do when schools close for floods? Surf, of course! We weren't the only idiots driving through town. We passed an awful lot of Matt's students crusing around in their lifted pickups. "Hey, Mr. Hardy!!" One proud moment was when we passed one of his kids towing a women with children who got stuck in their little Mazda.

The next year it flooded, I was working at the paper and possibly should've known better. Matt called me once he got into Tillamook to warn me to work from home if possible. He said the roads were already covered and he barely made it in the truck. Stay at home? Are you kidding me? With all the stories to be covered, I don't think so. Off I went. I white knuckled the wheel the whole way but was doing pretty good until I hit the notorious part of Highway 101 by Fred Meyer. The part that always floods and is featured on the news at least once a year. Suddenly the water's up to the middle of my tires and there's this really, really awful scraping noise. Oh my God. How am I going to explain this? I'm freaking out thinking my transmission is falling out. I don't know, it just sounded really expensive. I limped the car to work, rehearsing different ways to explain to Matt why it was so important I come in to work. Luckily, it was just some garbage that got stuck.

"You didn't take the loop?" About six of my co-workers asked.
"The loop?"
"Yeah, there's a loop around Highway 101 you can take to avoid the worst of the flooding."
"Hmm. Maybe they should give out that information with the phone books and crab nets from the Welcome Wagon."

My first (and last?) rodeo

Do you know what mutton bustin' is? I've never heard of such a thing. I went to my very first rodeo this weekend in Walla Walla. Imagine my surprise to see gates swinging open and six-year-olds on sheep holding on for dear life shooting out into the arena. Total shock. I'm glad I got to go to the rodeo but it's safe to say it's really not my thing. For instance, during the event where cowboys catch and try to tie up a cute little calf in record time, I was clapping for the calf that got away. This resulted in me getting a sharp poke in the ribs from Matt, glares from folks sitting around me and the announcer to ask the crowd "how many of you are actually rooting for the calf?" My honest reply earning me another poke in the side.

Vienna: facts and feelings

When Matt and I talk about our trip of a lifetime to Eastern Europe to visit my parents, I sometimes wonder if we're describing the same trip. I mean, we were both there at the same time and were pretty much together 24-7 but we remember very different things. I, for instance, don't retain historical data. I just don't. I'm not sure if I forget it immediately or if I just never processed it in the first place. But between the two of us, we put together the facts and feelings of most of the experiences we had.

So, for example, Matt can tell you all about Prince Eugen of Savoy and what he did with his army and how many square feet this amazing castle is with and without the greens included. Me? I remember the horrible bathroom attendant who wouldn't let me go to the bathroom. There were six open stalls and she wouldn't take my Slovak money, my Czech money or my United States currency. It was schillings or see ya sister. I had to go so bad after being on the train for so long I was willing to way overpay her in any of the currencies I had but "No!" Imagine that being said in the strictest Austrian accent. I haven't gone off on someone like I unleashed on this Bathroom Gesto lady before or since. So while Matt remembers all the details of the Belvedere Castle in Vienna, I remember the bladder infection I got due to that vile woman, a memento from Vienna that stayed with me the rest of our trip through Europe.

Overhead at Vanderbilt Beach

Overheard: at Vanderbilt Beach Naples, Florida

I'm sunbathing as a man behind me starts talking into his cellphone. His conversation before and after this call consists of a few words strung between variations of the word "fuck." He's short with silvery hair, way too tan and wearing green swim trunks and a grey tank top, the kind where it looks like he cut the sleeves off an old shirt. He is chain smoking.

"Hi, Jackie. Happy birthday, baby. Are you just getting out of school? Oh. Oh, Christmas vacation. Yeah, I totally forgot about that. So where are you? Oh, all the way up there? You in the car or what? Who's driving? Oh, okay. Who else is wit you? oh. So you drove all the way out there and didn't get to see him play. Oh, that's too bad. Well, i guess stop at that hamburger stand on the way home. You remember; the one I always used to take you to. Where we had the chili cheese fries? Yeah. So what, are you having a party tonight or what? They're on a cruise? Again?! They just went on a cruise. I'm sorry I'm not there for your 18th birthday honey. Oh, I'm here sitting on the beach. It's about 82 degrees. How about there? Yeah, I know. Weird weather. What is it 50s or 60's? How were your marks this ... uh... marking period? You haven't yet? Oh. Well how do you think you did? Well, good or bad? Mostly good? That's good, as long as you're doing your best. Well, I'm sorry I can't be there for your 18th. No, it's okay, but it's not. But, I'll see you ... well I'll be there February third. I'll see you immediately. Next time I call I'll get dates for your basketball games. I'm dying to see you play. Okay. I love you honey. And hey, remember, if you need something, you just call me okay? Bye, baby."

After shamelessly eavesdropping on this conversation I have all sorts of ideas about the back story here. What are some of your impressions?

Airport Heaven

When I first heard my travels to visit my parents in Florida would take me on a five state tour of airports, I could've been a little irritated. What with all the connecting flights, trekking across airports, finding my seat, wrestling my "yes, goddammit it's a carry on" into the overheard compartment and whatnot. But, oh no. My eyes glistened and grin broadened as I imagined the possibilities. Just think of all the strangers I'll see. This crazy ass itinerary increases my opportunity to talk to new people exponentially. Sweet.

See, there's a certain type of person people try to avoid when traveling. I'm afraid I am that person. I do, however, follow social cues like the pointed placement of earphones or the polite smile followed by burying nose in book maneuver. And of course, the more overt signal my seat mate between North Carolina and Florida immediately employed, application of a sleeping mask. But if you aren't reading, listening to music or sleeping, you are, as far as I'm concerned, fair game. You are the person I love sitting next to.

I always break the ice by offering those near me a piece of gum, "for your ears." I say with a friendly smile. Based on their response, our interaction begins. Even overtly hostile looking folks have turned out to be delightful flying companions when offered a piece of gum, a smile and a listening ear for as long as they want to talk. This is where some people get confused and tease me. "You're the person I hate sitting next to on planes." Because they think I like to do the talking. Far from it. I start the conversation and sit back. You'd be amazed at how many people pour out their life story to a perfect stranger. Hell, it's safe, they'll never see me again once we split at the airport terminal in search of our respective concourses for connecting flights. And for me, could there be a better study of human nature then observing people in a situation as stressful as traveling? There are meltdowns, arguments, emotional goodbyes and reunions to behold. It is my own personal heaven.

Dear Diary: August 1, 1995

As I was looking for one of the August lists I used to make, I found this journal entry that side-tracked me for awhile because, though I'd forgotten all about it, I was suddenly back on the train going from Budapest to Prague, 19 years old ...

July Thirty

This is not absolute yet, but I’m considering taking a serious bullshit break. I’ve been thinking of my unhappiest moments of my teenage years. 1) Boys & Boyfriends, 2) My parents and I fighting and that usually was due to a boyfriend …

August 1       

Budapest

happy august. August is my favorite month. Close enough to the start of school that I can be excited, but it’s still summer. And it seems like August is always when we went on cool vacations: Chelan, Europe,

California

w/ Rob, etc. I’ve been thinking more and more about the bullshit break. It’s a great idea and what I need is someone to make a pact with me to be Single Women for a year. If I do it for a year it’ll be two years w/o a boyfriend because B. never really was. I thought about waiting until I came into a situation ~ seeing as there’s no prospects in my near future [note inserted later says: little did I know] but I really think it’s a good idea w/ things like this to make a decision and stick to it, rather than allowing circumstances to push me into decision making. And to the question What if The One comes along? I can date him too, but if he’s really “the one” he’ll be around in another year, right?

          I said good-bye to Milti today which was by no means easy …- Milti was a great little bro for a week! Good, good kid. I cried when I said ‘bye. And tomorrow I’ll be a mess for sure ‘cause at 6:50 am, Antonia and her parents are dropping me off at the train station and who knows if I’ll ever see them again? We saw The Jungle Book in Hungarian, again in the outdoors theater. It was fantastic. In the middle of the movie, the sound went out, but it didn’t make a bit of difference to me. I have a nine hour train ride ahead of me tomorrow and I’m not too excited about it ~ but I am looking forward to

Prague

and Kate. I’m curious about her family. It’s funny how similar Antonia’s parents and mine are. Dads can’t sit in one place long enough and moms are happiest being home. It’s mom’s job to get everything packed and organized ~ ... I’m sort of sad today. My thoughts are really negative. I’m worried about the train having an accident and I actually pictured my plane crashing and thought maybe I should write a last letter to everyone I love before I go. How depressing – and dramatic – but that’s me. I also am a bit down on B. It’s so funny how he said my call made his day ‘cause it ruined mine! I still haven’t written to tell him I won’t be coming. Now I wonder will I ever see him again? I sure as shit am not making an idiot out of me for anyone. no more Boy Bullshit – friends and maybe lovers. Someday I’ll maybe deal with it all again – but not for awhile.

The Bullshit Break

1)     I am responsible only to myself. I don’t owe anyone any excuses or explanations.

2)     I don’t have to wonder “will he call?”

3)     I don’t have to take care of anyone but me

4)     No more trying to “change” or “fix” him

5)     I can party if and when I want and leave with whoever I want to leave with