Why I Travel

As I walk through the security line at the airport, I notice the guy in front of me, athletic, all button-down shirt and casual cargo pants, with black thick-frame glasses that turn colors as you move in and out of the light. He  carries nothing through security but a black, almost perfectly square cooler. I figure he must have some affliction and he needs his meds kept cold (I know from experience). But appearances and our own biases can be (and very often are) deceiving. 

He pulls a plastic bag out of the cooler, with three (3) frozen solid bottles of Deer Park water. He puts them in the TSA tray and leaves the cooler open. The TSA agent warns the screening guy that “frozen water, coming up!” and moves on to help me with my bag. The athletic guy moves along through the people scanner, chewing gum, completely non-chalant and well-possessed, not even blinking. No explanation. No fuss. Like he owns the world. 

The guy behind me says to the TSA guy: “Excuse me. Umm...What is that, exactly? You are allowed to transport water bottles through TSA if the bottles are frozen?” The TSA guy goes “Yes, sir! That’s right!” The guy behind me says “Well, I don’t agree with it, but wow! Just wow!”

In my mind, I say: “Sorry, buddy, your authority nor opinion is needed here. Move along.” But yes, I am wowed too. 

After I clear security, the first thing I do is google “can you take frozen water bottles through security?” and lo and behold, yes, you can! This just completely baffled me. I have been traveling consistently by plane since 1998 - for those hard of math, that is 27 years. I have counted 10 one-way airline trips (some of them with multiple flights) this year alone and I have never known of such a rule. This was a lesson ... 

As I continue my journey, I come to my gate and we’re ready to board. They tell us, as they often do, nowadays, that the plane is full and to make sure we board quickly and sit down immediately, not to block the aisles, you know ... the usual. Then, they call people by “zones” (some airlines board by groups, some by zones). They call First Class, then Zone 1, then Zone 2. We all wait. And wait. And not one person boards in Zone 1, nor 2. I have never seen such a thing. Again, ever, in all my travels are whole “zones” completely empty with “a full flight”. The gate agent seems totally OK with this, but we’re all looking around like “are they still at the bar or what?”. I am telling myself “this is going to be a trip of firsts, I guess?”. 

After I board (with my zone - I can’t recall what it was, but I am at the end of the darn plane again, zone maybe 7 or some such unlucky number; as a matter of fact, let’s not be ungrateful - zone “never” might be unlucky; the fact that I am on a plane at all is a plus), and after all the people are in their seats, the pilot walks all the way to where I am sitting and hands over a goodie bag to a lucky passenger on account that they are a “first-time flyer”. No, not with this airline but ever. Not sure how they know this? Not sure how or if they verify this, but there it is ... I am shocked. How has someone nowadays, especially in the very large America where people are so spread apart from their families, living in this huge country, never flown? This person is not a toddler either. It’s a mature man with a head full of white hair. They are totally shocked and embarrassed and they accept the bag with a chuckle and applause follows. 

Then, to make it even more unusual, the pilot walks to two rows in front of the man he just congratulated, on the other side of the aisle, and hands over a second goodie bag to another first-time passenger completely unrelated to the first one. Now, I am thinking I must be in a dream: there is not one, but two such rare specimens on my flight. What??? You live and you learn, as the cliche goes. 

As we’re preparing to take off, they make their little announcements and there is a new one for me: they tell us that video taking is “absolutely prohibited”, and this is not an “airline policy, but an FAA policy”. And I pause. Well, if video taping is prohibited, then how come TikTok (at least this is what I hear, since I am lucky enough to not be tethered with such a curse as a TikTok account) full of videos of flight attendants being slapped by or slapping passengers all over the world? Or did the policy come in response to such videos and is new? I am not videoing but I am taking pictures, so I figured I am not in trouble, but my goodness, frozen water first, no videos second, airline rules are moving fast, even for this mildly-frequent flyer... 

As I leave the plane on my arrival to the other end of my trip, at my final destination of Orlando, FL (a destination, I feel, that should require a passport, if you’re coming from anywhere else in the US, even), I head over to the ground transportation area to call an Uber so I can head to my hotel. I was a late adopter of Uber - have been using it for about 3 years - but I have used it on two continents and tried using it on a third one, but the Gods of the travel agency protected me from using it in Africa. Long story, for another entry. 

A cheerful gentleman called Jose arrives and I see a new disclaimer on my Uber app - that Jose is “recording this trip”. Hmm ... Video forbidden on the plane, but obviously running by default in the car transportation. I do not like surprises all that much, but this trip seemed to have it all. 

These are just a few examples from my most recent trip. And this is all to say that one of the main reasons I travel (other than to get where my life takes me) is to learn. Travel is almost a free add-on or bonus of new lessons about how you should behave in the world, how you should carry yourself among other humans. It teaches you how prepared you are to just be a human firing on all your cylinders, and being the best you can be among your peers. It builds tolerance and empathy - which are becoming somewhat endangered nowadays - but this new world we live in, try as it may, I would never, as long as there is breath in my body, want to lose them. 

Travel allows me to make my thoughts, my whole being stop chattering and opinioning and just listen and watch. Assess and propose corrections in my own path. Or not. Travel keeps my senses alert. There are so many things we must be present for in travel - you cannot space out and get lost in your doom-scroll of Instagram when the TSA agent, or a passport control agent demands answers from you. You are forced to connect with the person in front of you and think. Although I like to think of myself as a minimalist when it comes to consuming social media, I still hate when precious minutes go to nothing but mindless scrolling. Travel is not mindless. It is focused, character-building (remember that 20th century concept anyone?) presence. If you don’t have that (presence) while you travel, your very life might be at stake. 

I travel  because I need new energy, from the outer world, to replenish and recharge my own depleted body which becomes stagnant after a while just being enclosed in myself. 

My sister and I grew up “in the mountains”, we call it. We were city girls by birth - born and raised in the second-largest (by population) city in Romania - but for about 3 months every year we would live with our distant relatives in the Northern Carpathian Mountains, with no running water in the house, working tireless every day for our food which came from cows, sheep, chickens, or foraging for wild berries and mushrooms in the woods. This is how we learned physical, manual labor. Life on the land was very different from life in the city. In the city, we learned how to be pedestrians and how to ride with civility in a public transport vehicle. In the mountains, we learned how to listen to nature, and know dangers unknown to the city dweller - like the call of a wolf, or the scratch of a mouse in the attic eating through corn, or getting splinters out of our soft, city hands when we split wood in the woodshed behind the house to make fires every night to heat our rooms in the wood-burning stoves or in our water heater boiler every week for our shower.

Travel reminds me  a bit of those times - when we were forced to live in a completely new environment and we were absolutely forced to develop a new set of skills that would not have been developed otherwise. 

I travel because I know my perception of the world is biased. And I need hard proof for the truth. 

I travel because I am consumed by wanting to know the truth. Is the world really as bleak as the media and social sites claim? Are people as angry and evil? Are they truly hating one another? Travel shows you a different picture of that. Or certifies it for you. But you will never know for sure unless it becomes your experience. 

I travel for food and for new-ness. For taking myself outside of my cocoon of safety and forcing myself to react, to feel, to truly know, and to truly form an opinion. I travel for the surprise of it and its shock value as much as I travel to realize that I had the weirdness and diversity of the world within my soul all along. But I just didn’t know it. 

Travel forces you to think quickly and outside the box. And make do with what’s in front of you. 

Travel forces you to look deeply into your soul and assess - do you like what you see? Here, there are alternatives, would you like to reconsider? I never speak to myself more honestly than when I am traveling - because it forces me to be present and to stay awake and aware for the simple reason to be safe. It also forces me to be awake because everything seems to be new. I cherish getting lessons from everything that I open myself up for. 

I travel because travel leads me to books. And books lead me to travel. And books have been the one, only, constant in my entire life that has never disappointed. Boyd Varty’s Cathedral of the Wild led me to Londolozi which changed my life. Then, Londolozi led me to The Elephant Whisperer which enriched my understanding of human kindness and nature kindness and nature intelligence as well. And the examples are many from so many of my other travels: the innumerable books I read about English and American authors growing up that took me to England and later America where I found my soul, eventually. 

Travel brought me to wonders like the South African wild this year - and what a quantum leap that was! I emerged transformed only with a fraction of my old self from the African bush. It tapped into senses I didn’t know I had. Our over-technological suburban world dims those senses, or, in some cases, completely exterminates them. But going out of our comfort zone (something that is intrinsic to travel) allows our minds and sometimes even our bodies, to develop abilities that otherwise lay dormant or are in danger of becoming extinct because of our lack of need to use them. When you are called to react to things you don’t encounter every day - like a leopard on the hunt, or a pride of 9 lions completely wild, with no circus director to tame them in sight, or a river full of crocs opening their huge jowls at you, or even foods you have never seen but are called upon out of respect to try - you cannot help but learn new lessons and new abilities that you might not have thought you had. 

I turned 50 this year. I read a lot of thoughts on what and who you’re supposed to be when you turn 50 or when you reach your mid-life. Some people are told they are old. Some people fight this concept and feel young or do meaningful things to feel young. Because I live inside this 50 year old body, I feel just like I did when I was 10 or 20. 50 seems to me to be just a number. 

For me, the one thing I want to be or to do going forward (which has not changed just because my ID says I am not a different age), the only thing that I hope will define me in my next decade and beyond and always is the desire to continuously learn. To avidly and voraciously keep learning, with every day, with every trip, with every person or any other being that I encounter. Keep learning and becoming and changing and morphing into who I will eventually leave as my finished “product” on this planet, once my time is up in this realm. 

I cannot think how I would be able to learn without traveling. Just like I have said many times before, stopping traveling is like stopping to breathe for me. I felt like I needed a reminder to reassess why I do it - I do it to remain whole and to keep becoming. Becoming is my now and my future. That is all ... And that is all that matters ... 

One of the places that stays with me, 28 years later: the thermal pools of Pamukkale (or “Cotton Castle”) in South-Western Turkey - I took this picture after I climbed this mountain barefoot with hot streams under my feet on a 100F degree day in August 1997. 

Overpriced and Nondescript Print Media

I still subscribe, believe it or not, to three magazines. Not sure what to tell you, other than sometimes, for some kind of “news” I need the paper version. I have a desktop computer in my office and a laptop that travels with me all over the house. And of course, a laptop at work, that travels with me back and forth every day. Online is how I get most of my “news” and information, and I’ll make no excuses about it. No, I don’t have the phone plugged into the internets. I don’t think I’ll ever do that, unless it’s free, or some kind of a requirement to be fed!

But I do subscribe to magazines. Sometimes, at the end of a busy day, I want some easy reading and that’s when I grab those. When my regular book seems heavy, I turn to them. And as a perpetual habit over the years, I have been buying magazines every time I fly! That’s like my treat and my escape! I buy magazines I don’t subscribe to (evidently) to keep me company.

I usually try to buy something that will catch me up on the entertainment gossip and on the technology and politics points of view. That’s usually my niche, I guess. Historically, my go-to magazines while flying were People and Entertainment Weekly. Sometimes, if the cover looks good, Time and Newsweek would be amongst choices, too! Sometimes Rolling Stone.

This last trip, I also added Bride magazine or Weddings to my possible selection, for reasons you find evident, I am sure.

But I had the hardest time picking an issue of my “usuals” anymore. Those (Entertainment Weekly and People particularly) as well as the “bridal” ones are made of nothing, but I mean nothing, but pictures and ads! Call me picky, or old fashioned, but I did think that print media, magazines included, is the kind of media that has words to go with their photos. They are not just photo books that require your brain to shut down and you to turn the pages mechanically and be done browsing in 10 minutes: cover-to-cover.

You can say I am cheap, but $5.95 is a high price for picture viewing. Yep, that’s all you get: pictures: ads to perfumes, hotels, diamond rings and Vera Wang couture, and pictures of fat or newly slimmed down celebs or the season’s fashionable lipstick shades.

It took hopping several magazine stores in airports like Greensboro and Detroit to find ONE magazine that had words to go with their pictures …But those were not the “light” kind of books, either! I had to “settle” (hardly) for more serious prints like Time and Business Week. One had book and movie reviews I was interested in as well as health information, the other an in-depth recap of today’s job and house market (you’d think a “hip” topic, no?!) .

These are all topics I used to find easily in more “easy” reads, like People and Entertainment Weekly and Rolling Stone before! But those don’t offer real reading anymore: only overpriced picture viewing on printed paper. I guess the more serious news comes from magazines like Time and Newsweek that are becoming skinnier and skinnier every time I pick them up.

I am not sure which is more depressing: the page count getting frightfully low? Or the superfluous -ness of the content? I’d go with the latter. At least the first group of mags don’t insult you and themselves.

As a print media employee, I hear it all the time, that people buy papers for ads. But as a reader, I am here to tell you: people buy print media for content! And I mean news content, not picture and ad content! That is fortuitous. We don’t want to pay close to $6 an issue for pictures. We get those for relatively free all day long while browsing yahoo, and msn or while driving down I-40 in roadside billboards or getting The Clipper for free at the mailbox! Words is what we look for.

So, I am not caught up on the latest celeb gossip, and I have no clue how to plan a low budget wedding, either. I guess I am back to google, and searching for pertinent key words! And in the meantime, some print media lost a reader.

I had a pretty heavy reading flight back and forth to Michigan! But at least, no regrets for wasting money! I would say: if you bother that much to print, folks, just make sure you’re saying something!

“Bigger- (Not) Better- (Definitely) Faster- More …“

I think it’s official. NO matter how hard I try (and I have to tell you, not very hard!), I cannot keep up with the kids nowadays! And by “kids” I mean everyone from 18 to 60 year olds that are buying into all this faster by the minute technology and gadgets! I guess you can say I am not hip. – do they even say that anymore?!

I have talked about my technological communication challenges before . I have an old and antiquated phone that does nothing but ring and dial: no pictures, no text, no emails, no internet, no APPs, for God’s sake!!! It does what a phone was intended to do. ‘Cause all those communication devices they have nowadays that do everything from tell you the weather, tell you where you’re going in the car, and maybe cook you dinner are not phones! Are some sort of newly invented, Star Trek – like props, but no phones!

I do not have an ipod – never had one, and not missing one, either; I have never played a video game, wii, or any kind of other extraterrestrial invented game. I JUST got a GPS, but that was a gift, I didn’t seek it out for myself. I will tell you, however, the GPS I like! It’s the second thing after a computer with internet that I find completely useful in this world. Something that can indeed improve my existence!

But I cannot keep up for another reason … You see, I am amongst the very few Americans out there that still send cards. I mean, hard copy, paper, with a stamp on it cards, for all sorts of occasions. Sometimes, for no occasion at all. When someone means that much to me, I think it’s a way of saying just that. But I do email, a lot, too, when I need to get my point across and get it across fast. It’s useful. It’s not personal, but it fulfils a very specific task that stamped mail doesn’t: instant gratification! For me. I know you texters and Twitterers out there are chuckling.

So, as a user of both forms of communicating, I have always thought the opposite of “snail mail” has to be, in our world, the e-mail, right?! Even I, without a fancy communication device (that others call “phone”), can get an email out to Romania, for instance, faster than any hard- copy, paper letter can reach. But the other night, at one of my meetings, I was awakened at how deep I am buried in the past, once again.

I am a member of a certain civic organization in Guilford County. And we have a weekly news brief that lets people know about our happenings and when the meetings are, as well as a monthly newsletter that covers even more news about our organization. Both these are send out electronically, by email. For months, the leaders of this organization have complained (and rightfully so) of low participation to our meetings. We even have a website – that apparently no one reads, because they don’t come to check us out. People just don’t show up!

Well, a new era has apparently begun for our little organization, because this past meeting, we had a fantastic turnout! According to the membership VP, it is all because we just launched a Twitter account.

His rationale was simple, and daunting (paraphrase): “Thank you, all new members and visitors, for coming. We’ve been waiting for you. Apparently, you open a Twitter account, write on there at noon ‘membership meeting at such and such place at 6.30 PM’, and Boom! – you get turnout!”

It made me wonder: WOW! Could e-mail be obsolete??? No way! But I thought for a minute, in despair (I don’t do well with yet another new invention to encourage your hands to work less, your patience to be even shorter, and your brain to think even shallower!), about the “new” faster than fast future ahead of me:

First off, Twitter “hits” people faster (and shorter?!?) than email: I guess email takes, my Gosh, effort - even precious seconds you can be using to get home and wii?!?, or text your mom about the bloating the beans gave you over lunch - to click and open, and read through all the other crap you’re not interested in, but with a sweet and short (not sure how sweet) message on Twitter (you don’t need anyone’s email address for that – extra effort!! ), you get straight to the point, and if people follow, they act on it right away! It’s amazing how the modern world works nowadays: new thing- faster-less words-less brain power-I’m THERE! I wonder what Pavlov’s dog would do…

So, that begs the question: is email the new snail mail?!? Because, oh my God, if that’s the case, I will be stuck in the “past” forever! There is no digging me out of the email and blogging paradise I am in, comfortably.

How much faster can we move? How much faster can people want to be moving?? We’re already multitasking as a culture, and we’re all developing accelerating A.D.D. from it, now, we’re supposed to move even faster and respond to “life” even in a shorter yet time?!? I am dizzy!

On top of not taking pictures with my “communication device”, I do not text either. I do not have caller ID at home, and I do not Twitter. And I do not update 89 of my friends and acquaintances on Facebook of my every move. Nor do I get their updates on my Facebook page until I get home at night.

And these are things I will not plan to change any time soon. So, if I’ll have something to say, and you’re interested in hearing it, please read my emails. Or my blogs – whichever you think is … faster… ?!?

PS: Thank you, 4 Non Blondes, for the title inspiration… Do people remember them, anymore, or is that too old school, as well?! I can’t keep up!

Girlfriends

By complete chance, I was witness to this conversation, while on my hike last weekend. It’s not in the least made up. Two strangers, I’ll call them Kathy and Cindy, about 35’ish year old, both accountants, approached me on the trail, sort of out of pity, because I was hiking alone. And after the usual politeness, of what your name is, what you do for a living, they just went off on their own rants, and I was a mere spectator of it all.

There they go:

Kathy: “That tree is totally twisted. It cannot make up its mind which way to go. See, how it grew toward the valley, and now it’s growing towards the hill? It must be a woman, not knowing what it wants!”

Cindy: “What do you mean?”

Kathy: “You know: that’s what men tell us, that we’re moody and we never can make up our minds.”

Cindy: “Well, I can tell you that men are just plain stupid. That’s what I can surely tell you. They are the ones who don’t know jack sh^t about what they want. They want us for the sex, up and down, all day and all night long, but then, when we want them for the emotions, they say that’s too complicated, and they get out. That’s what they do! They’re idiots! What is there so complicated about emotions? Is it rock science?! No, it isn’t! It’s just plain talk! I wanna tell you how I feel about you, and how I need you, and you’re going to turn the football game up and ignore me, and if I push, you walk away because that’s too complicated! That’s a bunch of bull crap!”

Kathy: “I hear ya, and that’s why we’re on this hike today: because we’re fed up with them! Both mine and hers are idiots. So, we wanted to get away and not put up with their sh^t today.”

Cindy: “You don’t even know where to meet them no more. You meet them at a bar, you meet them online, at the office, through your friends, they all suck! None of them wants the real thing anymore. Everything is too damn complicated to all of them. Now, Kathy here, she’s a true online dater perfectional. She surely is. She’s been on everything and she’s been doing this for years. And she’s still not finding anything. But one thing I know for sure: as much as my now boyfriend made me mad this week, I’m back on Plentyoffish(.com). I surely am! I’m back at it!”

Kathy: “Well, the one I have now, I met on Great Expectations. And usually I met some good people there, but this one’s a dead beat! See, I am looking for something long term, but he don’t want anything like that. He just wants something now. I just don’t know why you’d pay all that money for it, and just want sex for it. What is wrong with you?! “

Me: “How much are you paying for Great Expectations?”

Kathy: “Well, they want to sell you for years at a time, and it’s like $2000 for a year, or $3000 for two, but I talked them into a $600 for 6 months deal”.

Me, dubious: “600 DOLLARS? For a dating site?!”

Kathy: “Well, yeah, but you don’t get all the junk that’s on MySpace there. Or the goobers on PlentyOfFish. I really met some interesting folks. Although, I’ll have to say, there are some stupid folk on it, too”.

Cindy: “They’re all stupid, girl! All of them!”

Kathy: “Well, I did meet this one guy, he was from DC. And we talked online, and I was tired of all that typing, so I asked for his number, and he gave it to me, and we talked for months. Then, one day, he told me he’d come down to see me, because he was feeling like we were falling in love, bla-bla-bla (she’s rolling her eyes in disgust). And he bought a plane ticket to North Carolina to see me. I was really shocked. So, then he came to my house, and then, he told me he had bought the plane ticket for this other girl, that lived in Charlotte, but then she backed out on him at the last minute, but he still had the ticket, and had to use it, so he came to see me instead.”

(Cindy and I are about to faint laughing)

Kathy:” I am telling you, Cindy’s right: they don’t know jack sh^t of what the hell they want. One minute, you’re in love with me, and one minute I am your back up plan?! I even tried to kiss him, just for testing, but he couldn’t kiss worth a damn either, so he slept on the couch and I never saw him again. Nor talked to him”.

She shrugs. And I shrug now, too, nodding my head in disbelief, and deep thinking. And I thought I was the only one having dating nightmares.

It turned out I was not alone on that hike, after all. On that hike, or otherwise…

A Communication Misfit …

“A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it is absolutely fatal.” (Oscar Wilde)


I was thinking the other day that since I am such light years behind everyone else in the means of communication I use, I should make a somewhat “public” note of this …
I am sort of trying to tell everyone that despite what their perception is, no, I am not rude (not trying to be, anyway), no, I am not anti-social (not much), and no, I don’t hate them, either …
I simply use methods that are a tad less mainstream – just like I do with a bunch of other things in my life …
So, here we go, in case you're trying to get in touch with me ...
I don’t have caller ID on my home phone. Never have. I am not even ever considering having it, because it costs and it’s a luxury I can do without. So, I don’t screen your calls. If I don’t answer, it’s because I am not home yet, or because I am asleep (yes, I take naps, too), and I unplug the phone then.
No caller ID at work either, and that's out of my control. If I don't answer, I really am, away, or in a meeting, or on the other line, like the greeting says. Not lying at all.
I don’t use my cell much, which WILL come as a shocker in this day and age. I answer it only when I am in the car or in a public place, because those are the only places that don’t have a landline that’s permanently mine. If you call the cell then, I will be “quick” and ask you what you need, ‘cause I gotta go. I have a plan that covers 50 minutes of peak time a week and 500 minutes a weekend. Yes, in a world when people have 1200 minutes a month, I get 50 minutes! I know: it’s hard to comprehend. Again: it costs, and it's a luxury I can live without. No, it’s not you, it’s me. If you call the cell while I am at home, or at work, I will ask you to hang up, and I will call you from a land line. I am cheap indeed. No joke!
So, I don’t use the cell for chattin’. I love to chat, don't get me wrong: call my cell and in 2 minutes tell me when and where you wanna meet: we’ll chat then and there. For hours!
Since we’re talking “cell” here: I don’t text either! Never have. I am having trouble accepting "text" as a verb, too ... I don’t think I ever will "text". I personally think that’s insulting my very ability to communicate. You wanna talk: pick up the phone and call … meet me somewhere … you get the point… In my communication-challenged opinion, typing into a PHONE is slightly ... well, un-natural, for wanting to be less insulting here! :-) Doing something “just because you can”, we’ve learned from our 42nd president, can be pretty stupid! So, yes, I am going to be mad at you if on Christmas Day my cell goes off at 7 AM when you decide to text me “Merry Christmas”. So, stop it!
Unless you live on another continent, or another country, I typically don’t want to sit there on the phone and chat with you for 5 hours. Sorry… You’re welcome to visit anytime, with notice, and we can also meet in town and do dinner, or lunch… But I am not going to do my dishes and laundry, change my cat litter and do my nails or take a bubble bath with you on the phone … As I grow old, I am seeing how I am very A.D.D. anyway, so I am trying to focus more (this is no joke!), so I cannot give “the phone” undivided attention, while I do all that, plus: you’ll complain because of the noise … Maybe once in a blue moon, yes, I’ll chat you up, but if that’s your idea of keeping in touch with me, it’s not going to work for a long time at all. We’ll break up!
But there is always email, and ... I do email a LOT. And that’s because it allows me to have some freedom, the sole driving force of my life, and respond when I have the time, and again, to give you undivided attention! I will email you updates about me and I’ll ask about updates on you; I will expect an email back, although people will call back. You don’t get me then! … Again: it’s about being focused, and not missing things. And I can do my laundry at the same time, since you won’t mind the noise … I am religious about answering emails, so if you want a 100% sure way to reach me, email me. I promise you: I’ll be there. But again: ideally, we make time to chat!
It’s not uncommon that you should leave me a voice mail and you’ll get an email back. If the voice mail says “ I am just checking to see if we’re on for 5 PM for drinks” – I’ll call. But if it says “ I am checking to see how you are and what you’ve been up to lately”… and there is a looonnggg story behind it (make your own “WRONG” game show noise here!): yeah, I’ll write! I’ll even attach pictures. :-)
My days of IM-ing are over … The only people I used to IM with regularly and with patience are my parents, but since Skype, we talk live, over the Internet, for free … Since they live in Europe, they qualify for long distance “phone” chatting, you see . So, stop sending me messages about “IM me on MySpace” or on AOL, or on Yahoo: not gonna happen!
If you live in another continent or town and don’t have a pc, you WILL get a hand written letter once in a while IF you write back! OK, I am weak: for those who are so poor that can’t afford postage, I’ll even write without expecting a response back.
If you really made it to the list of “my friends”, you will get a hard copy of a birthday card, and Christmas card. I love paper and ink … And I love to write, so, yes, you’ll get me, in paper … I am still working on being good about the "thank you" notes. I'll get there, once I'll be "officially American", I swear!
And actually, that’s one thing I do miss: the handwritten cards and letters …
I guess I do live in the past … But here I am, still, trying to love all of you the ways and means I can master: as the ultimate communications misfit!
And always remember: you’re not doing anything wrong. This is about me, not you!