Thursday, July 23, 2009

Nai tebe kachka kopne!

I had a wonderful weekend - I saw the great towns of Albany, Kerhonkson, and Bristol. I got to spend time with good friends, the voices in my head, and some new friends. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so good.  An insane amount of stress and unhappiness was lifted from my shoulders. 

Friday night, I drove to Albany, NY and watched Instrument play at Valentine’s. It was a surprise to the boys and I loved the reception I got. It’s always good to hear someone say, “We were talking about you on the drive here.” It was good to hear D tell the lead singer of a different band who I was and what I mean to them.  NOT cool when the guy called me a groupie, but he apologized. Probably didn’t have anything to do with the look of death I shot him. *grin*.  I got a lot of people on their mailing list and sold 2 CDs, which prompted D to offer me a raise of double my salary.  Ben then decided that quadrupling my salary was a better idea. (Well, why not? They’re paying me $0, but it sounds good.) Jonah and I hung out a bit - love that he kept calling me “Sassy” and tried to dance with me. One days, these boys will learn I am all kinds of clumsy…

Saturday, I headed to Soyuzivka, in Kerhonkson.  It’s a Ukrainian camp that’s an hour and a half southwest of Albany, and they were hosting a Ukie Cultural Festival.  THAT was seriously messed up.  My grandparents used to go there. My mother used to go there. I’d never been. It was oddly painful to see all the people who knew each other, to see the people my age who spoke fluently and traveled in groups, to see the young kids who didn’t know a different life… A life like mine. I was definitely in the minority. I don’t speak a word of Ukie and I felt like such an outsider.  It wasn’t pleasant by any means, but it was something I needed to do. I was fine (mostly) until I visited the little sales booths. I grew up with all the stuff the booths were selling - embroidered table runners, wooden psyanky, ukie patterned vases, certain books - and seeing it all laid out made me cry. I’m not ashamed to admit that. I used the word “robbed” a lot to describe my feelings. My mother rebelled against her parents and brought me up as an American.  Not Ukrainian. Not even Ukrainian-American. American. And that just really pisses me off.  Of all the things I’ve hated my mother for, this is a huge one…

Sunday found me back in Connecticut. Again with the boys of Instrument. They were playing in an all-day music festival at a bar in Bristol.  They had arranged the whole thing - I hadn’t known that before, but knowing it now, it made me really glad that I spent all day at the bar watching the other acts. My friend Henry the Hippy was there and we talked about his Masters degree in Nutrition. Currently, he’s taking Biochemistry and Anatomy. We had a great time talking about my heart. He was fascinated by what I knew, and his knowledge was equally fascinating. I even had a surprising conversation with someone and made someone else smile. Mind you, these are two people I had never really planned on interacting with, but ya gotta start sometime, right? After everything, maybe it’s time to listen to Reagan—“Tear down this wall!” Who knows what will happen. I’m keeping a more open mind, that’s for sure.

I spent all weekend thinking about very little. There was a lot to run away from - Soulmate Boy, some friends with ruffled feathers, the clue by four an old friend was wielding - and I did a very good job getting some much needed distance between me and the crapfest my life had become. I came home feeling very calm and happy. I refused to let things bother me.  I can’t change the past, only today and tomorrow… this thing with Soulmate Boy isn’t going to go anywhere any time soon, but I came to terms with the feather ruffling and the things that required the clue by four attack. I’m getting better at this grown-up thing.

I used to say that if I had known the path my journey would take, I would have stayed home… now, I’m all about packing the map and hitting the open road. I like my life - even with all the ups and downs - and I’ve fought hard for every. single. minute. of. joy. I’ve also suffered dearly, but eh. What can you do? Life goes on.

I don’t know how long I can stay all zen about things, but it’s been almost a week. It also doesn’t hurt when I see things like this in my email: you now have total control, make it good or we will remove you from power.  We’re good again, and I couldn’t ask for anything more.

*contented sigh*