Based upon my last entry, someone might say that I’m reading my journal from 1998-99 because I’m nostalgic for past travels and adventures. But they’d only be partially right.

In actuality, when I finished my journal (well, not actually finished…I missed putting the last few weeks in, not to mention my round-Europe trip). I promised myself that in 10 years time I’d go back and read the journals—once I had a little time and distance between all the events and emotions of that year to see what I thought. It is amazing how fast time has passed and how much I have changed along with those who were a part of my life at age 17-18.

I am now married, 28, living in a major city, have a bachelors and a master’s degree. Buying my first home and thinking about starting a family. My parents have divorced for over 4 years. My brothers are both out of schooling (Jimmy nearly). Mom has moved to another town too. My best friend is married and living in her home. Of the exchange students I keep up with, one is married with a daughter. Another is still single. Of old high school friends of whom I write, one is married with a son, another is engaged. Others have been long lost to time and distance.

Some are absent from the pages, most notably my husband. In reading my old journal, I found it difficult to think back to a time where I didn’t even know he existed. In fact, none of the people who are the greatest part of my life in Boston existed to me yet.

The attitudes, words, and situations described within the pages of the journal have left me astonished. I’ve been devouring the pages vociferously over a two-day period and I’ve read the entirety of two composition notebooks. I see so many other but also similar angles to myself, things I write that are dead-wrong and incredibly immature or naive, but also things that are rather shocking (well, to me) and insightful. Moments and words exchanged, once long forgotten, have re-surfaced. Sometimes I catch myself laughing, other times I’m crying with tears that never seem to end because I really feel for the girl who is really struggling to survive. I see where I did right by myself, what I cheated myself out of, and I also see where I was truly let down by others. I’m impressed by the burden I carried at times. I don’t know that I could have handled it at age 28 any better or at all.

On the other hand, I read cards from relatives and friends and read my conversations with some friends I made that year, and I see how much people truly cared about me---although I didn’t fully appreciate it at the time. I am eternally grateful to my best friend and my grandparents who wrote cards and letters that really made me realize how truly loved I was. I also see in the photos and compliments paid to me on the pages that I was, even in my own current opinion, once truly pretty on the outside---in fact, often stunning. I’m angry with myself for not appreciating it then and being so hard on myself for my appearance. Some of that, however, isn’t my fault either. And additionally, I’m angry that I haven’t taken care of myself the way I ought to the last 10 years.

I still have the third and final composition note book to read and am thinking about what I want to do from there. I see patterns in myself that I’d like to think further on, parenting mistakes made that I’d rather avoid as I see the confusion and hurt they caused me as I tried to live up to impossible standards with very little information. I see how growing up in a small town with limited viewpoints really hindered me up until that point…this validates the choice I’ve made to live in Boston.

So where I go from here, I’m not sure. Perhaps writing it into something more coherent, but I worry about self-censorship. I see the uncomfortable, the bad, the ugly; the uplifting…it would be hard to organize the ramblings of an 18-year-old adolescent. On the other hand, it’s probably worth a shot.

Minimally, even though keeping the journal was a lot of work—it was totally worth it. I’m so glad I did it. After I finish reading, Keith will have his turn. I don’t intend to show the books to anyone else.

Labels: friends, growth, history, journals, retrospection, Sweden

Again, I have not been dutiful in keeping up with my blog. Its really something I should keep up with, not so much for those who may read it, but rather as a way that I can process events and thoughts as they occur. However, in the last few months life again has been so busy, I haven't been able to grant myself the luxury of simply sitting down and writing.

As a new year begins, my most worthwhile intention is probably the one I have to sit down and simply give myself the opportunity to really recollect events and further probe my emotions, reactions, and ideas. This all, of course, in addition to the perennial favorite resolution--to lose weight or simply be physically healthier. In looking back, I did a fairly good job, although not as good as I hoped to take the time to experience the city that I have made my home--my resolution for 2008. Losing weight, again, was a bust--hence its re-occurence in 2009.

Speaking of homes, it is satisfying to report that at long last, after a year of persistent looking, Keith and I found our first home. Having seen it just prior to Thanksgiving weekend, we submitted an offer around Keith's birthday (Dec. 1) and then had the offer accepted Dec. 7. After inspections and further back and forth negotiating, a Purchase & Sale Agreement was signed Dec. 23. Now we are waiting for Wells Fargo to officially and finally approve our mortgage and we will close on February 13, 2009. This is but 25 days away from today. We are still in a little bit of denial--we have not packed one box, nor secured movers (ideally this would happen after the mortgage is all official) but we will spend the next few weekends and evenings packing up our lives for the 5th time in 5 1/2 years and move. The good thing is that barring an amazing opportunity of gargantuan proportions, we plan to stay put for awhile.

And yet, with the milestone comes new concerns and thoughts. I'm delighted that we will no longer be nomads moving from apartment to apartment, yet, I am fully aware of the significance of what this purchase means. It is not just buying property, but rather also a shifting of our priorities and in some ways also a loss of freedom. In this real estate market particularly, no buyer could not help but be aware that once purchased, a home is not necessarily something easy to sell and divest of. A homeowner cannot just pick up and go and see where life takes them.

By doing this, Keith and I are becoming full-fledged adults. Not that we weren't adults before, but being renters allowed us more disposable income, savings, more free time, etc. I'm pre-mourning that a little, even while I celebrate the fact that I can do whatever I want to my interiors, own a dog, and hopefully also set ourselves on the path of building wealth. Even as we dine out or purchase entertainment, I'm aware that a tightening of the belt will make these excursions less frequent, if not non-existent starting out.

We also realize that we're taking the first step to build our family. After nearly 9 years knowing each other, 8 1/2 of that being a couple, and nearly 3 1/2 years of marriage it has dawned on us that we are quickly approaching yet another milestone as we approach our thirties.

I'm sure you can guess what I'm referring to.

As excited as I am to think of this, I confess some disquiet. NO friends about us seem to making the same moves towards family-building. In fact, several couples we are friends with have publicly declared their intent not to do so at all. Actually, we are the only people we know that plan on having kids...a shocking revelation because in the hometowns and families we grew up in, families were central and celebrated.

Lastly, a couple we see on a weekly to almost bi-weekly basis and have known since our freshman year at Franklin & Marshall could be said to be taking steps in the opposite direction. After finishing graduate school, they are headed to the Netherlands for further study and work for at least a 2 year period. Obviously they can do this--they aren't homeowners, and there are no children to consider uprooting. If we truly wanted the same thing and the same opportunities came along, I suppose we could too somehow. However, because it would involve so much further worry, preparation, and eventually will effect the well-being of persons other than just the two of us--I wonder if we'd be brave enough to take on the disruption and potential risks.

Now knowing me and my love of Europe (particularly Sweden, but I'd try anywhere really) I envy them and have jokingly said as much (although I'm sure they realize the truth lying behind my jests). But if I was going, I suspect that I might be just as dispirited at the idea of being a nomad yet again, except this time having the challenge of relocating my life not just to another apartment in the same city, but rather re-establishing myself in another culture far away. I would have been (knowing me) very disappointed to be delaying the start of family life for this adventure. Or would I? The fact is, I'll never know for sure if I will always think the grass is always greener elsewhere. Mostly, I push the hypothetical indecision I feel to the side. After all, Keith or I haven't been offered post-doctorates in Europe so there's no need to decide. A clarity in goals though would definitely make it easier to decide and encourage us to make the steps to look and pursue opportunities of adventure though. Instead, we've actually just added another weight to bind us to Boston. (Which is a fine place I'm happy to have landed in, don't get me wrong.)

The Alyssa of 10 years ago, the Alyssa who then was a high school student in Sweden in January of 1999, loving her time and eagerly anticipating college, would have scoffed at the apprehension I am now expressing here. It was easy enough then for me to basically fit the contents of my life into two suitcases. Now, its hard to get it all in a full moving truck. The accoutrement of a cozy married life almost now feel like shackles because I've gotten used to finer trappings than instant soups and plastic cutlery. Certainly adventures also require a modicum (or even a great deal) of sacrifice.

So I'm left asking myself--have I changed or have I simply wussed out? It is a question I ask that have no foolproof way of answering.

As I think forward to the days, perhaps another even 10 years, when I will stop waking up each day and worrying about my husband and I want, and instead having to put children as our top consideration, I ask myself, "How much my life will resemble the one I've carefully crafted in the years since moving here?" Further, I ask myself if my friends still be my friends, or will they have moved on since we will have become boring adults completely wrapped up in child-rearing with spit-up dribbled down our shirts.

For the pair I speak of who are moving abroad, they seem wholly unconcerned. They seem to think that they will do their thing...perhaps coming back to Boston, perhaps drifting elsewhere, or perhaps staying in Holland...but that regardless of what the future holds, we'll simply pick up where we left off when we see each other again.

I don't have in my heart to really break it to them how unlikely that is. Furthermore, the responsiblities we take on next month and in the coming years will make expensive travel a decided luxury if they choose not to return. We will change profoundly--I can feel it. And we will have no choice.

And likely, so will they as they learn a new culture.

Perhaps I'll be wrong, but I recall all too well from my experience how much I dramatically changed upon my return from living abroad. Friends and family barely recognized me personality-wise. The bubbly girl who left has never reappeared. People who were my best and closest friends beforehand completely disappared from my life, and much of it was MY doing, however not explicit or particularly deliberate.

Even if our friends return to Boston, a life-changing event will have happened for us...things will be quite different if there's an infant for us to consider and not a whole lot in common to discuss anymore. I have visions of them asking us about what video games we've played lately and we'll gaze at them with bleary, sleep-deprived eyes and tell them that we haven't seen our Wii since my third trimester...that sort of thing.

So, one of them, not knowing what items and preparations need to be completed prior to January 28th (the potential fly-out date) spent a great deal of time with us this weekend and at the end of events this evening, gave quick hugs and basically said "see ya later." Keith and I are sitting down quietly, wrapping up our weekend and taking a little time to relax (I am writing this blog) and we look at each other and just know its not that simple. I, from experience, and Keith from years of me telling funny anecdotes and pouring out my emotions on occasion that since July 1998, I changed absolutely and he never met that Alyssa.

Labels: children, family, home buying, Netherlands, new year, personality shifts, priority shifts, Sweden