Heading Home

I'm officially leaving Australia on Wednesday, May 21st, 2008. Crazy, huh? I haven't set foot on American soil since early July, 2006, almost two years ago.

I Wish Things Weren't So Complicated.
The Boyfriend is staying behind to tie up loose ends. He's finishing projects at work and suffering the U.S. immigration bureaucracy hell while, in the meantime, trying to pack up our apartment and sell all our appliances. I feel bad leaving him with all this junk but I had no choice.

I'M BEING DEPORTED.

Yes, Lovelies, you've heard it here first. Now, you know your Porschie didn't do anything horrendous like inner-city terrorism or drug trafficking, I've just forgotten to renew my student visa and because I've been here without a visa for so long, my only option was to leave the country... immediately.

I sobbed and sobbed when they first told me this. I'd just got a new job a month before this, my thesis research had just been approved, and The Boyfriend and I were really excited about spending our Australian wintertime with a new workout regime (that included salsa lessons!). This has been almost devastating. The worst bit has been the dread I've been feeling, knowing that the day he'll see me off at the international airport is rapidly approaching.

This man has been my support, my best friend, my living journal, my roommate, my comfort and my Love for the last eight months. It's been this way since we first met. I don't want to say good-bye, even if our separation is just for a short while.

So... it's easier for him to obtain a permanent immigrant visa if he's my spouse. That's all I'm saying.

We've planned a holiday for my last few days here in Aussie-land. We're going to MELBOURNE, which is like Australia's New York City.

Since I first came to Australia, I've been longing to go to Melbourne and now, because I'm not allowed to re-enter the country for three years, this seems like the best time to see the east coast.

My 24th Year

So in the midst of all this chaos, I had the audacity to have a birthday. On May 10th of this year, I turned 24. I laid out a bunch of New Year's Goals (not "resolutions", that term never works) and this is them:

1. Learn to save money
   
2. Finish Master's degree
   
3. Write more
   
4. Appreciate my body
   
5. Join a church
   
6. Argue only when necessary
   

There are a lot more things I want to accomplish in my 24th year, but I believe these things are a good start.

Now, I don't want to sound all weird or anything but one of my immediate goals for my 24th year was to read The Secret and see what all the hubbub was about. The other day I was watching The Tyra Show and the topic was about de-cluttering your home. The guest interior decorator on the show mentioned the Law of Attraction and how if we think about clutter and see clutter and continue thinking "oh, I need to clean my house, I need to de-clutter my space" then we'll always live in a state of disorganisation because those thoughts of needing to clean actually continue the cycle of needing to clean. Does that make sense? So anyway, I decided to pick up The Secret (I bought the book about a year ago, read a few pages and then set it down when I noticed the strange looks I was getting from people on the train) and I read it cover to cover... while The Boyfriend was at work so he wouldn't think I was joining a cult or something.

I found this clip of this interview with Oprah on Larry King Live. Check it:


I think she may have something here. Before I came to Australia, I prayed for it, I bought books about Australia, I imagined how my life would be living here, and I thought about it and visualised my Australian life all the time. When I looked at the process of gaining enough money and scheduling flights and (*cough-cough*) visas it seemed impossible, so I made it my priority to focus on the end result: Life in Australia. And somehow everything fell into place and suddenly I was here. I don't even remember how it happened, it just seemed right. Perhaps the Law of Attraction was in affect.

After reading the book, I've become curious about how the world around me works and how I can change my reality. What do you think about the Law of Attraction and all this?

Last year Oprah did a show on The Secret and these are some highlights from the episode:


I'll post some photos and videos from our Melbourne holiday. Take care and I'll see you all soon!

Happiest Moments

I was watching Oprah the other day and she was going on an on about the book Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. The book is all about Elizabeth's personal and spiritual journey in search of inner peace and from the sound of it, this woman had her demons. She was in the midst of a devastating divorce and depression and decided to work on really loving and being a good friend to herself.

She started a new journal and began writing everyday and motivates others to do the same. She says to start the day by writing in your journal "What do you really, really, really want?" and then answer the question. Then write out your mantra (something you repeat to yourself). And at the end of everyday, take note and write out the day's happiest moment. So I've been going for a few days now and this is what I've got so far:

Saturday 19 April 2008

What do I really, really, really want?
To love each other forever

Happiest Moment:
When (The Boyfriend) surprised me by being right behind me when I was on the phone with him. (Silly? I know, but I loved it.)

Mantra:
Nothing I commit myself to can fail. I am beautiful. I am able.


Sunday 20 April 2008

What do I really, really, really want?
To have a beautiful body

Happiest Moment:
Making the girls at work laugh and feeling like part of the team.

Mantra:
Nothing I commit myself to can fail. I am beautiful. I am able.


Monday 21 April 2008

What do I really, really, really want?
To be successful

Happiest Moment:
Falling asleep in (The Boyfriend's) arms.

Mantra:
Nothing I commit myself to can fail. I am beautiful. I am able.


Tuesday 21 April 2008

What do I really, really, really want?
A great job where I feel appreciated.

Happiest Moment:
Hearing Mama laugh while on the phone.

Mantra:
Nothing I commit myself to can fail. I am beautiful. I am able.


Even though I'm only four-days deep into this, looking back and reading my happiest moments is really special to me. So now I'm going to encourage you to take note of your happiest moments each day and to take the time to experience the pleasure of the little things that make each day worth getting out of bed for.

Job Searching

I’m still waiting tables. I’m wondering how long ago it was that I decided I wanted to work somewhere else. Two months? Three? The discontentment I have with my job and this job-search has had a direct affect on the way my body looks and the how I view myself.

“So what are the limitations with your visa?”
“I can work part-time while attending classes and full-time when on breaks.”
“Oh, I see. This is a full-time job and we would really need someone here everyday. That seems like it would be a problem for you… Sorry, we’ll keep your resume on file.”
“That’s okay. Thank you for your time.”
Immediately after this conversation, I felt like opening the fridge and eating whatever was available.

Is this why I don’t write anymore? Is this why I don’t care enough to work out? I lie to myself: Tomorrow I’ll wake up early and do Pilates before breakfast. I’ll go for a jog in the evening when it cools off outside, knowing good and well that my running shoes and Pilates mat will continue to collect dust at the back of the closet.

Why can’t it be the other way around? Food offers no comfort at the end of the last swallow; I just look in the mirror and feel worse. Why can’t my frustration manifest itself in my wanting to exercise vigorously? Because that would be anorexia, right? But what’s this, then? Eating for comfort? Aren’t all disorders created equal? Is one better than the next?

I’m sick of seeing a million things I can’t afford. I’m tired of always being late for the rent (and I’m sure The Boyfriend is tired of it too, although he’d never say so). And I’m frustrated with my dusty degree. The Boyfriend assures me that things will be vastly different when we move to the U.S. He believes he’ll be the one slingin’ hash while I’m toting off to a brilliant office job. I’m not so sure. Things are competitive here but I have no idea of what I’m in for once we move back home. I’m just wondering when I’ll start to really feel comfortable and satisfied and I’ve grown impatient in my anticipation.

Does anyone really love their job? Is there any person who can say without a doubt in their mind that they feel absolutely satisfied with their occupation? That the stresses and worries, the pressing deadlines and annoying coworkers, the needy customers and clientele are all a part of the overall joy that is their chosen career?

Presently, I’m considering and reconsidering what I’ve chosen to do with my life. There are a million jobs out there and people are still inventing positions to help end unemployment crises. How can a person decide exactly what it is they want to do with their lives? Perhaps one can narrow it down through a process of elimination, crossing out the things you know you don’t desire from your chosen profession. Meanwhile, as I pull on my old ‘jeans and t-shirt’ uniform and get ready for yet another shift at the neighborhood pub, my mental list of eliminations grows.

Homesick for Christmas

Every few months or so something comes up. A holiday, birthday or some special event, and it causes a twinge. It’s a small pain, nothing major, but I feel it nonetheless. Homesickness.

I remember when I first moved to Oregon from my life in California. I left the state to study at a tiny Christian college and with the intent of finding both God and myself. However, after the first few weeks, I was ready to pack up and return to California. My mama helped me press through, of course, and I ended up staying for four years, returning to California only three times throughout.

I went straight from Oregon to Australia, I haven’t seen California in about two years. It was Christmastime. My sister was congested with her annual head-cold. Mom had laced sparkly garland through the bars of the stair banisters. My hair was cut short, the shortest I’ve ever had it. It took a lot of getting used to. Dad made a cameo appearance. It was a good Christmas.

Last Christmas I spent on the coast of the Indian ocean. It must have been in the nineties, we stayed in the water till midnight and were sweating even still. Everyone I spent that holiday with was a temporary friend, a surface acquaintance. Now, a year later, I don’t see any of those people, I can’t even remember most of their names. After spending one of the most meaningful of holidays together, my life goes on unaffected by their company.

This year, I’m in a similar boat. Still in Australia, oceans away from loved ones. Still having a summertime Christmas and still missing my family and our intimate Christmases terribly. This year, however, I have a wonderful relationship and a beautiful apartment to be thankful for. I’ve decided to dig into my Creole roots and wake up early to make gumbo for dinner (fingers crossed the roux will come out the right colour). My sister is making the same thing, and although my celebration will occur 15 hours before hers, it will be nice to know we’re having the same Christmas dinner.

Presents are being sent via Internet and UPS (two more things to be mighty thankful for) and will be arriving late as usual. Oh well, it is what it is. Perhaps next Christmas I’ll be able to hand-deliver them myself. That is if my plans to travel to Singapore fall through.

Love Always and Merry Christmas.