hygge in luxembourg

We met at a bar.

How quaint, n'est pas ? He was speaking Spanish and had ordered pisco sours. I was intrigued. Pisco sours were not on the menu nor, in my opinion, are they well-known in the States. I was tipsy enough to rudely interrupt them, ask where he was from. Venezuela. Thus the accent I could not place. I must've followed with an explanation of my familiarity with the cocktail–northern Chile, study abroad, menu del dias–and somehow got to Paris and how he'd recently moved from there, and Madrid, but mostly Cyprus.

He went back to reunite with the birthday party, and I turned back towards the friends I'd come with. This was our second stop after a company Christmas party. We were decked out accordingly. I felt warm, fuzzy, gleefully at ease with how life in SF had evolved. To my right was a Russian friend I'd met in Luxembourg, once. She'd moved back to the Bay not long before I moved up. We've gotten close since. Another friend had joined us, originally from China, with her German boyfriend. Amazing people I only knew by chance.

This was an important realization. Having relocated so regularly as I have, I've often felt lonely; unknown, and too much so.

It's made the serendipitous who matter more. For example: a French girl that cautiously entered an exchange program and ended up in my small hometown at the same time my parents agreed to host an international student, and clicked with myself and my family so completely so that we'd remain close close enough to then visit in Strasbourg, Los Angeles, Luxembourg (see above, below).

She's the reason I've studied French, why moving to Paris for grad school felt accessible, how I somehow had family nearby there.

"Life is about the journey, not the destination" is one of many platitudes I'd prefer to live without, but, as each year passes, my outcome-driven soul is finding it to be mostly true. The experiences have been enriching. But more importantly, my life has been made so full by the amazing souls I've met, stayed in touch with, had the immense pleasure of reuniting with whenever possible.

Then there are those passing connections, in which you're reminded how small and peculiar the world is (case in point: he'd worked with this guy) but also how magically vast. Our conversations were deep and inquisitive; his perspective, completely unique from my own. We discussed the humanitarian crisis in Venezuela and racial inequity in the United States and the tensions between immigration and integration in France. He also introduced me to Colombian music. We danced. We laughed, a lot.

It all matters.

brussels with my brother

For the first time since 2011, I'll be home for Thanksgiving. Dare I say I'm nervous? I'd considered a staycation in L.A., serving turkey to the homeless... but then my grandmother was diagnosed. And so I decided to be in New York with her (though, uncomfortably, I keep forgetting my grandpa won't be there, too). We'll drive down to my aunt's apartment on the Upper West Side and enjoy that grand home-cooked meal I've missed. We'll be all together again, maybe. I'm really hoping my brother will be able to make it as well.

You may recall that he and I spent the holiday together last year. He was finishing up his master's at University of Amsterdam and wouldn't be able to make it home; I had far too many vacation days to use before I lost them. It was quite the adventure. I flew into Paris (where I crossed paths with my sister), then Amsterdam, and then, Brussels. I wanted to go somewhere he hadn't yet been.

We explored some, he caught up on sleep, and I indulged in more contemporary art. Brussels is delightfully walkable and was dressed up in all its spirited glory. As for Thanksgiving, we were lucky to have found a traditional feast hosted by The American Club of Brussels. I can't express how stimulating it was to be surrounded by such diversity of people, experiences, and ideas, again.

My heart was so full of gratitude as my favorite American fête came to a close then. And really, despite my stress and anxiety, that feeling is not far out of reach now: in early December, I'll move to San Francisco (!) and join the team at the International Institute of the Bay Area, backed by the support of more L.A.-based friends I ever imagined possible and that of my quirky family; what's more: I'm financially-able to spend time with both before and after the transition (Christmas). Wishing the same good fortune to you and yours ♥

union station at christmas

{#myLAcommute}

a new york holiday

{The Rad Trads}

“And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been, full of work that has never been done, full of tasks, claims, and demands; and let us see that we learn to take it without letting fall too much of what it has to bestow upon those who demand of it necessary, serious, and great things.” --Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke, 1892-1910

friendsgiving

la día de los muertos

{L.A. Day of the Dead at Hollywood Forever Cemetery}