The Quietest Goodbye

So tomorrow, I am off. Almost to Senegal! First to Washington DC on Sunday for two days of orientation (and one evening of hospitality by Katie Sabella). But then! On Tuesday, I leave for the SEN!

It has been a long, long road to arrive at this point.

In particular, the last three weeks have been especially trying. Right before my going-away party, I felt a cold coming on... I tried to coddle it into submission as best I could, and I really thought I had emerged victorious. BUT I HAD WON A MINOR BATTLE, NOT THE WAR. I waltzed into my party, carefree and thinking I was healed, sang a lot of karaoke, stayed out way too late, and BOOM: the next day, I completely and utterly lost my voice, and it didn't return for a week. A WEEK. It was one of the saddest ways to spend my last week in Chicago: SILENTLY. I couldn't dine with people! I couldn't express my feelings about The Bachelor! I couldn't read to the baby! But worst of all, I couldn't orchestrate all the dramatic goodbyes and tearful heart-to-heart talks I had planned in my head.

Eventually, the laryngitis returned to the disease that had TEASED me in the week before my party, and then it like guerilla attacked me. I was the red coat. The disease was the tricksy American. I was following the rules, damnit! But I had forgotten the most important rule of being sick: THERE ARE NO RULES. Yeah my week ended with a lot of vomit. It was disgusting and out of character, but I comforted myself by calling it preparation for Africa. Or thinking of it as a way for me to end my time in America with bad memories of vomit, thus preventing future homesickness.

But whatever, because now I'm on antibiotics, so I'm indestructible. Then again, I also had this weird moment where the Peace Corps nurse called me and made it sound like there was a chance I might not be going to Senegal anymore. I had emailed them about my antibiotics, just because I am ignorant of the ways of medicine: could my antibiotics interfere with my malaria medicine?! What about my rabies shots?! What about my sunscreen?! So much can happen. So I emailed them, they called me back... but I haven't heard anything since... so no news.. is good news? Let's hope so! Especially because I've invested a lot of money at Wal-Mart over the past few days and I will never get it back. So anyway. Antibiotics = indestructible, except if I turn up for orientation only to find out that I have been fired from my volunteer job due to the most dangerous drug of all: GENERIC AUGMENTEN!

But yes. For the past week, I've indulged in my fair share of emotional moments and final meals. Everything has seemed symbolic. Eating guacamole at El Amigo... for the last time in two years! WInning trivia night at Franklin House for the first time EVER... but not coming back to defend the title for two years! Putting my sweaters in my dresser... not to use them for two years! I've been getting carried away. Strangely, I think I had my biggest emotional breakdown while watching Jersey Shore. I was so torn between the world I am leaving behind and what lies ahead! I would get absorbed in Jersey Shore and then stop and think, "Ahhh! What am I doing?! I'm leaving America for TWO YEARS in like TWO DAYS! Why am I spending these last moments by watching crap like Jersey Shore?!" Then I would slightly hyperventilate, but become deeply engrossed in the compelling narrative of Mike "The Situation" Sorrentino sleeping in a bed of grated cheese moments later. Then the cycle would repeat. It was all very meta.

No but seriously, I have done a lot of thinking and reading and perusing old photos and letters during the past week, all of which has led me to feel very, very excited about heading out. I'm excited about the people I'm going to meet and the things I'm going to learn and -- well, I guess I'm just excited for the adventure to unfold. Reading all of my old letters lately has made me especially appreciative of all the wonderful people I have in my life -- it's made me realize how much I'm going to miss not seeing most of you for such a long stretch, but also given me such confidence, just realizing how much support and love I have. Ahh. Sorry. See how quickly things have been going from crazy to emotional for me lately?! I'm like a pendulum of extreme FEELINGS.

In closing, here are some of my gametime packing decisions:

IN: Velveeta

OUT: Cheetos

-- In the battle of the cheeses, there was just too much air in the cheetos bag. Sad :(

IN: Hawaiian maxi dress that cost $3, but might make me look like I'm trying too hard to "be African"

OUT: gold sequined dress.

-- The sequins were just too heavy! And ostentatious and overwhelming and full of memories from Halloween, Miami, and the pride parade.

IN: poster of numerous puppies looking cute

OUT: poster of Justin Bieber

-- Most people probably can't tell the difference between these two posters anyway. But I didn't want to deal with questions about whether the Justin Bieber poster was just a big photo of my brother/uncle/father or worse, HUSBAND. Also, I hate Justin Bieber.

IN: Patti Smith's book

OUT: French-English dictionary.

-- Because I believe in art!!! And Because the night!!!! Here's to hoping I can create enough synonyms with my basic French to somehow express myself.

Thinking of all of you! By Wednesday morning, I'll be in Senegal :) Oh, and here is my address for my first two months. Please pass along your addresses in return!

Address for first 8 weeks of training (aprox. 3-9-11 through 5-9-11)

Lisa Floran

Corps de la Paix

B.P. 299

Thies, Senegal

West Africa

P.S. In the future, I will try to maybe describe what I'm doing a little more. Rather than, you know, just talking about Jersey Shore and my feelings. Don't worry. The time for clarity will come.

A Love Letter to My America, part 1

As my departure date for Senegal draws nearer, I keep forcing myself to enjoy the little things. Goodbyes are weird, but I tend to prefer them as overdoses on normalcy. Because -- I like my life, a lot! I like walking down the street, enjoying the sunshine! I enjoy riding the bus and listening to Ke$ha's 'Your Love is My Drug' on repeat, judging people who don't give up seats to old women and teenagers who don't wear snowboots! I enjoy the modern dance class that humbles my body and lack of choreography skills, week in and week out! I enjoy acting silly with the kids I babysit, teaching them to embrace the music of The Strokes and Wiz Khalifa and Robyn! I enjoy indulging in baguettes and crepes and garlic on everything and the bleu cheese that is almost as harsh as roquefort but not quite! I enjoy reading my favorite magazines in solitude! And I enjoy deeply delving into the complicated personal dramas of my beloved friends!

So yeah. Those are the things that I've been doing to prepare myself for the Peace Corps. And it's been really, really enjoyable.

Then again, I am not ashamed to admit that THIS IS ALL PART OF MY GRANDIOSE PLAN. Yes, I HAVE A PLAN. I ALWAYS HAVE A PLAN!!! And my plan, for the past few months, has been as follows:

1. Create a self-indulgent and mind-numbingly introspective routine.

2. Cut out anything that pushes me out of my comfort zone, especially any new activities.

3. Cocoon myself tightly.

4. Ignore the fact that I am moving to Senegal for over two years, because, ehh, whatever. I'll figure it out as I go along.... right? Right?

So by putting all of my effort into those steps -- coupled with the fact that I have now spent 15 months hanging out with toddlers for 9-10 hours a day, and even though I love them, I mean, that's a lot of talking to myself -- I thus ensured my complete and utter self-preparation for a big LIFE CHANGE. And it has totally worked! I am totally bored! I am so ready to leave and embark on a grand lifestyle change in a new place and a new job! Go me! I did it!

That being said, I have bought myself some sweet-mo new bags, sandals, and this weird neon skirt with peacocks on it. Yeah that's right. So there have been a few preparations.

But in the meantime, I'm doing the best I can to get the most out of my America. So I have been eating hot dogs and going to famous hamburger joints and watching each and every intense Winter Sunday Television event: The Golden Globes! The SAG awards! The Super Bowl! The Grammys! I have taught both babies how to sing "Black and Yellow," and I clarified my thoughts on Lady Gaga's egg! And tomorrow, I will surround myself with friends, eat pizza, drink red wine, and sing Korean karaoke until the sun comes up. THIS IS MY AMERICA.

Thus in conclusion:

America, I'm glad we've had such a great time together lately, but I think we need to go on a break. I know you were a little pissed at me that time I didn't register to vote, but frankly, you've had your asshole moments too (i.e. my lack of post-graduation job. Kyoto Protocol. Bristol Palin on Dancing with the Stars). I think we both knew, in our heart of hearts, that this break was inevitable. We both having some growing up to do.

I'm sure I will go to Senegal and learn so many things that you just never had the time to teach me! For instance, the Peace Corps recently sent me an email saying I might learn how to plant trees! Super awesome! I'll also probably learn how to be more accepting of other cultures, which means that when I come back to you, maybe I will be more open-minded to people different than me, like Michelle Bachmann.

I'm sure I'll end up missing you, America. I will miss your bull-headed ways and your casually multicultural restaurant menus. I will miss your scents, from the 'is it chocolate or pollution?' smell on the Brown Line to the weird yeasty smell of South Bend, Indiana. These longings will make our future relationship stronger. And let's face it, you're going to be a mess without me here. I wouldn't be surprised if your entire baking sector implodes because of its sudden lack of patronage. I've also heard the world may end in 2012, thus I ask: coincidence?!?

But this will be good for us. Yes. Can't you see that I'm becoming a little stir-crazy with you? It's my youth. You are so old. I am so young.

So please, release your bald-headed eagle talons from the bedazzled rope around my neck. It's time for me to fly. To Senegal. You stay here. You can even date around. You can date Mallory.

I love you, America. You will always have my heart, because I am a citizen of this country and an organ donor. Thank you especially for these last few beautiful months, and here is to 2 more lovely weeks.

WORD. Don't worry, future posts will actually be about Senegal, once I get there.