Vagabond

Now, I’m sure you’re wondering what exactly the title is in reference to, yes? I hope so…I mean, if the correlation between vagabond and Brittany is all to clear to everyone else – I’m a bit worried. Fantastic…

See, I was searching my vocabulary for an appropriate alternative to the adjective “rambler”, as I hear that word a bit too much associated with myself and my actions, when I met a block. This endeavor turned out to be one that could not be surmounted by any means not involving that thing I abhor, and yet worship, all at once: the thesaurus. This resource is one bookmarked and utilized by middle schoolers and theorists alike, yet is one I loathe for the very fact that I am not unique in using it. Call me pretentious, but I cannot stand for the fact that I need assistance, especially in the realm of vocabulary, even if only sparsely. But so it is, this is life, and I succumbed and typed those frightful words, so cleverly coined and arranged in that oh-so-easy to remember web address – thesaurus dot com.

And what, precisely, did I find when typing in the word rambler? Well, instead of being smarter than the search and compile commands and tendencies of the website’s search bar and entering “ramble” to ensure the correct definition, I allowed the search to think for itself (never a good idea – anyone seen terminator?? Skynet ringing any bells??) and it spit out the following definitions: (1) nomad, person who wanders from place to place, (2) traveler, person who journeys, (3) vagabond, person who leads an unsettled life, (4) wanderer, person who travels aimlessly, (5) wayfarer, etc, etc… all providing synonyms along the lines of these: hobo, itinerant, migrant, pilgrim, roamer, rover, adventurer, barnstormer, commuter, drifter, excursionist, expeditionist, gadabout, gypsy, junketer, peddler, tramp, trekker, haji, pioneer, trailblazer, beachcomber, gallivanter, meanderer, rolling stone, straggler, stray, etc…

Well, I immediately discarded my initial purpose of finding a surrogate for “rambler: one who talks aimlessly and endlessly” (which, by the way, is absolutely an accurate description of me – ask my mother) and began a litany of definition searches accompanied by a reaction only fit for a 7-year-old child who just found out they were going to Disneyland, Six Flags, Knott’s Berry Farm, and Universal Studios all in one day – without their parents. Completely ridiculous and unjustified. I’m sick, really – I need mental assistance.

Needless to say, aside from tangenting from my original aim of the current post, I discovered an interesting coincidence of what I can only imagine would be termed as fate. All of the presented terms and definitions actually kind of, potentially, maybe, possibly fit. I’ve always been a self-proclaimed nomad, a so-called wanderer without a permanent home, other than my own ability to adapt in the quicker part of  minute to any new environment available to me in a given moment. But one term in particular stood out as being especially appropriate, hence the slightly awkward title that upon first comprehension seems to be quite the non-sequitor. I was entranced when my imagination tried to wrap itself around myself acting out the part of a vagabond, and as I began to project this idea away, a side note caught my eye. It says “a vagabond refers to a person who leads a carefree, roaming existence; a vagrant ekes out a living by begging and is often considered a nuisance.” Now, while I can often embody the term nuisance, I am definitively not a vagrant, and the simple distinction between the two terms vagabond and vagrant was key in convincing me that I am, in actuality, a vagabond. Not only that, I am fully prepared to embrace this and, if anything, promote this perception of myself – always in a positive manner, of course.

And what does all of this lead to? Well, as spectacularly as I have deviated from my original intentions of writing a new blog post for the week, I am led back to the main idea. The other day I stumbled upon a blog post titled something along the lines of “10 Ways To Improve Your Blog” (I can’t find it at the moment, but ‘m trying to locate it). This seemed mildly entertaining – until I read the #1 rule: Don’t Ramble, closely followed by “Don’t use all caps”, and “Spellcheck often”. Upon reading this my heart suddenly plummeted into my stomach. I had unknowingly and unintentionally broken the cardinal rule of blogging, and not only that, upon reading the elaborative comments, it continued on to explain that rambling in general was bad, but rambling about meaningless events in your daily life that pertain to no one other than you and your little Grandma Ruth was absolutely horrific.

Just fantastic.

I am an offender of the worst sort – I assume everyone else in that amazingly coined term of the “blogosphere” is just as interested and thinks my daily oddities are just as funny as I do. I am officially Kirk from Gilmore Girls.

See the irony yet? Well for the more dense among you – here it is, as pared down as I could bear to manage:

I intended to post my most sincere apologies to those few who have deigned to read my nonsensical and never ending chattering about nothing. In return, my efforts have created what is probably the post with the highest number of nonessential words to date. What an accomplishment… And you know what? After reading through this, editing and tweaking as I go, my shame at this atrocity I’ve committed has morphed into pride that, instead of standing out as one of many amazing writers and bloggers, I have singled myself out as one of the worst bloggers (according to traditional standards) on the internet.

I think my mother would be proud – Don’t I get a cookie or a gold star of some sort?

Until next rant, I remain your eternal babbler,

Brittany

P.S. I used almost all of my favorite words in this one post. Except for conducive – but hey, I still managed to get it in here as well :)

The Eternal Traveler

It appears I only update my ramblings when in a period of restless traveling. This could indicate something intuitive about myself…

The other day I decided that 6 months was way too long to go without seeing my lovely family so I called upy lovely mother and two weeks later here I am in St. Louis. But it’s not like I just jumped on a plane and arrived safe and sound. Oh no, there was no safety involved, and plenty of horrible sounds. Between my stand-by status forcing me to roll over to 11 different flights, one of the planes incurring maintenance that lasted for 9 hours and creepy guys asking me if I’d like to stay at their cozy apartment as opposed to a hotel, I am a bit exhausted. All in all, I got here (St. Louis) safely and with a cute story at that, and now I’m ready for the trek home. Hopefully this round will run a bit smoother.

Life back at the school? Packed yet not busy at all… I’m working 3 jobs at the moment – summer RA, computer lab nonsense, and ChaCha lol – and looking for a day job (feel free to send any references) and aside from that trying to catch up with my life. My social life, that is. I was simply roaming facebook, and while I refer to it as thins tool to be utilized in keeping up with people, I only use it to interact with those I see every day. I miss so many who I can just leave a comment for that I never seem to get around to doing. But I guess I’ll just add that to the list of things I keep MEANING to do but never get around to (build a bookshelf, call Grandpa, see a therapist, etc..)

Ciao.

Checkpoint

This is my return/re-evaluation/checkpoint of sorts. I have been missing in action for quite some time and I think it’s the perfect moment for me to re-appear – like that moment in superhero comic book movies when the leading lady is oh-so-helplessly about to be violated or harmed and all hope seems lost, and then superman flies by not a moment to late. It’s exactly like that, except I doubt my readership (or lack thereof) is so greatly affected by my unimportant musings.

Where, might you ask, have I been?

Short answer: I’ve been learning to manage my time between all of my deserving fellow humans, discovering which relationships/people/things I truly need to survive, and trying to create a world of my own. And studio of course.

One thing I’ve encountered is surprising – even for me, the one who dreams of accomplishing everything (including those contradicting goals such as both having wonderful children at a young enough age to bond and never ever ever having kids). I’ve determined that I am actually proud of myself. Just the other day, I was talking to my mother on the phone and discussing when I would next see her, and then I realized it had been a good four solid months with no face-to-face contact. Now, a year ago I would have gone through at least five breakdowns by this point, but now? While I still feel the sharp pangs of a tug on that good old invisible umbilical cord (yes it still exists apparently – don’t you dare try to tell my mother it doesn’t, she’ll strangle you with it), I have learned to use that slight pull to push me forward. I wrapped up the family gossip and as I set down my cell phone and leaned back in my chair to continue working on my paper, I had this odd sense of accomplishment – despite the fact that I had a million things to do for school and I still hadn’t found a time to see my mother during the four days she would be out here.

I have become a single woman living alone in Los Angeles. I mean, yes, I live in a dormitiory in the comforts of a private university – but, I’m doing it alone without aid from anyone. I work many different jobs to pay for the materials needed at studio. I work nights and random weekends as a resident advisor to earn the compensation of room and food during the year. I find ways to travel around this amazing city in spite of the lack of a personal motor vehicle. And best of all, I attend to my own needs. Yes, I have friends and family who will take care of me when I get sick and give me a ride here and there, but I am fully capable of obtaining what I need, when I need it. What a gratifying thing for one who has grown up so very blessed and sheltered. I guess this is my “I am independent” speeach, and I’m loving every feeling and emotion attached to that.

And another thing. Since I’ve been awake every morning due to 24 hour computer lab times, I’ve been eating breakfast. Some days this is a good thing, some days a really bad thing – I’ll keep you posted.

First Class Conversations

I absoloutely adore airports. I don’t know what it is, but there’s nothing like being in the midst of a crowd of people you’ve (presumably) never met or have no apparent ties to. Just sitting there with a brand new plane book, an iPod in my ears playing Jimmy Eat World, and occasionally a glass of wine from the airport brewery in hand, I can people-watch all I like. As every person rushes by, I wonder what their situation could be. Are they flying home to see their family after days away, or just leaving them for a quick business trip? Is that gentleman with the baseball cap going to visit some friends and go see a game, or does he just happen to like that team? Is the older lady with all the jewelry who is sitting at the bar awaiting another person or is she traveling alone? Maybe the young girl with the sketchbook is a future artist of reputability. I find only happiness when sitting there observing the myriad of subjects the airport offers me. It’s like my very own playground.

So I left school to arrive at LAX in the middle of the night. It’s a different place. Not quite as busy, not so crowded, yet there are people who are a bit more in a hurry to get to their final destination before the last plane of the night leaves. When I was waiting in line for the security clearance I happened to meet a young gentleman on his way to Georgia to meet up with his wife, children, and in-laws. Through a short conversation detailing where we were each going, I learned he was a movie producer and set designer. So cool! We chatted for about 15 minutes and then he rushed off to make his flight. Hopefully he got home in time, his children were beautiful!

So then I meandered over to the bar before it closed, being the alcoholic I am at heart :) After an hour or so of just looking around, just before the bar closed, a girl my age walked over and sat down for a beer. We got to chatting over our respective drinks and I learned quite a bit about her. She lived and went to school in Louisiana and is now working at a chic boutique in Los Angeles. I got her card and I’m excited to get some pretty new clothes, if not just happy to have a new friend.

But probably the best contact I made was my seat-mate on the first part of my flight. I was delayed from my first flight by an hour and ended up on the 1:30 am flight. I was slated for a first class seat on a pass, but they placed me in seat 14C. Oh well, c’est la vie. So I sit down with my bag and a present for my mom, and I got up to put the present in the overhead storage. The flight attendant tells me to not worry about it and just put it under the seat, so I sit down and place it under the seat – where it of course doesn’t fit. Another flight attendant walks by and sweetly asks me to kindly hold my purse as we take off, which I do immediately. No fewer than 10 seconds pass by when a third attendant walks by and tells me I’m not allowed to hold my purse and could I please place it under the seat. My sister, my mother, my sister, my mother… Oy ve.

So the gentleman beside me comments, “Would they make up their minds already?” Couldn’t have said it better myself. After the plane takes off, I realize that as awake as I am, the rest of the plane is ridiculously dark and nearly everyone is asleep. Luckily my seatmate, seemed to have the same intentions as I as far as not sleeping much, or he was a very good actor. Throughout the morning we talked about everything from Architecture to superhero movies. He was quite intriguing as he was a teacher who had an interest in history, art, and especially photography. At some point I mentioned my new job at a high school near my University and, lo and behold, his TA from a previous year was a teacher there! All in all, it was a fascinating conversation, and who knows, maybe I made a few more new friends.

My aunt swears I’m going to meet the man I marry on a plane – bring on the frequent flier miles :)

A Whole New World

There are things about a person that aren’t too obvious upon first meetings. The kindergarten teacher sometimes ends up at the pub downtown. The surly biker who spends his days tuning his Harley in front of your apartment complex likes a bit of mocha added to his non-fat latte with soy milk. The monotone cashier at the supermarket who barely utters your total likes to perform improv on his days off. You get the point. Other things are too apparent to be ignored. My characteristics tend to vary.

One thing that has been a little of both is my tendency to start over. I moved around a lot as a kid, and it definitely has its side effects. One happens to be my affinity for starting over. Whether it be starting at the beginning of a book series before the movie counterpart comes out, or buying new clothes instead of washing the mountain of old ones, I have a curse. I’m sure the OCD plays a part as well..

Well, the blog is no different. I’m craving a change, and rather than re-vamp the old one, I’m starting a new one. I’ll be writing here soon, until then, feel free to catch up on a year of my life by visiting my previous attempt. Constructive criticism is always fun too.

One side of me..

Cheers.