Some Time Soon for Sanity's Sake

"Solitude vivifies; isolation kills.”~ Joseph Roux, French Artist

Pictured above are the waters and sand of Luquillo Beach in Puerto Rico. I was there once. Years ago- on what I guess I could call my first honeymoon. Only because on my first anniversary, I can remember lugging very heavy bags, walking uphill in frigid temperatures and saying (more to myself than to my then husband) "This same time next year I will be somewhere warm, Dammit." I made good on that promise and planned the trip. We went. It was a fantastic time. Oddly enough, I don't attach any romantic emotions to the memory of my time there. I always said I would go back alone if the means and time permitted. I engulfed my time there that much.

These days are harder to bear than usual. The transgressions are beginning to outweigh the triumphs. As I stand watching the last of my marbles roll away into darkened corners, I know where I need to be; in blue crystalline waters under a forgiving sun. I need to rent a convertible and feel the wind whip through my hair. I need to drink in the horizon from the backdrop of El Yunque rain forest as I drive the winding road to Luquillo. I need solitude to replace the self-imposed isolation I feel closing in on me each day. I need a few days without Blogger, Google, Youtube, Gmail and Facebook. As cliché as it sounds, I need to feel the sand between my weary toes.

I can remember my co-workers at the time joking about planning my baby shower that would no doubt be needed after my vacation. Funny. Once I was on that beach- I can remember swigging my drink and thinking, "If I get knocked up on this trip- I won't be able to do this again this same time next year..." Needless to say, that didn't happen. And the next year found me on a beach in Negril. But I always felt a connection, a magnetic draw back to that vast beach just outside of San Juan. It felt like home- or the closest thing to it this side of Chaguaramas in my native land. Soft sand. Privacy. Welcoming water. Peace. That's all I'm in search of. That, and..me I suppose. So before I unplug, I'll swing by Expedia to see what deals await me this same time next month. Damn the time or the means..for sanity's sake.

Ah so it go

"There's no easy quick way out, we're gonna have to live through our whole lives. Win, lose, or draw." - Walt Kelly

Every now and then- I have a habit of unplugging. It starts with my social networking. The FB page gets deactivated. Then it moves to the phone. It goes straight to voice mail. If I happen to turn on the TV, it's usually just for some background noise which I eventually tune out. Maybe I'll leave the blogs alone for a little while. I do these things to find center. To remove myself from routines and trances that I find myself in. Sometimes it works. Admittedly I'm doing some soul-searching. I recently had a birthday last week and in a matter of days I was re-examining everything that led up to it. True to my zodiac, I retreated into my shell where it felt safe. I tend to pull away from everyone and everything in an effort to see where it will all be once I reemerge. I silently ask questions like, 'Was I missed?' 'Did they need me?' 'Did they even notice?' Juvenile, I know. But I should get points for being honest.

Well I'm trying something different this time around. I'm starting to look for answers outwardly. I'm allowing people to show me where I fit into their lives- instead of fighting for a spot in it. I'm staying connected to technology because right now, it's a decent outlet...or escape. Writing has always been therapeutic for me. Perhaps I should begin to compile my story now. At the pinnacle. At the exact moment that I can pinpoint the shift in my life. I just want to put a cap on the things that keep me in limbo and uncork all the things that will allow me to be me to the fullest. Finding yourself can mean stepping out of that comfort zone- that false sense of security or it can mean clinging to what makes sense in fleeting moments. I honestly don't know at this point. One thing's for sure. I have to strike a balance on my own without checking out. The last time I let that go on for too long, I lost a good job. I isolated myself from friends and family. I tortured myself with thoughts of what I should have done and why. I refuse to walk that path again.

Presently, I don't have the means to just book a flight and get away from it all. And truly, what would I be getting away from? You can't run away from yourself. So I've decided to stay firmly planted. Keep searching for myself until I find something to embrace. And when I find it, I won't be so quick to share or squander it. I can't help what baits the catch. My heart is always out here for all to see. It always has been. This site is evidence of that. But this time around, the plan is to keep what is worthy of keeping and toss back what is no good for Jayne. There's only one life to live. I'm well aware of that. But remaining in a stagnant mind state or worse, adopting one that is clearly not the right fit- is no way to live it. With every end comes a new beginning. Todo Tiene Su Final. Start or finish, I hope to find some peace. Soon.

"We don't say- Hey that's the breaks. We say- Yo, Ah so it go."
-Kardinal Offishal (Bakardi Slang)

Back for the first time

“To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.” – Freya Stark


Routines are made to deviate from. It's been a while since I did that. It doesn't happen often but when spontaneity gets the better of This Bug, I must comply. Bottom line: I had to break out, yo. Sometimes you just need a moment to keep it to self. Last time it was Miami. This time it was Chi-town. There's plenty about my excursion that I'd like to hold close, just for selfish purposes. But I'll divulge a few quick hits simply for the sake of sharing.



For the first time in a long time- I slept. I mean really slept. Sound. I needed it. Weird dreams, too. Stay tuned.




I did my best not to fall into the run-of-the-mill practice of tourism but alas- it's not a trip to Chicago if you leave without consuming their famous Deep Dish. My take: NY Pizza wins hands down. But that might just be me.



No matter where I go, I'm always struck by how trusting people are in other parts. At the car rental, the attendant innocently suggested I leave my luggage there to go outside and peruse their fleet of cars to choose from. I promptly put her on. "I'm from New York, Sweetie. I'm not leaving anything anywhere." Homie don't play dat.




A gajillion tiny bubbles have the most exhilarating and calming effect all at once. Until you have to get out and reset the timer. It's still kinda fly, though.



As it turns out- I drove smack dab into the middle of the annual St. Patrick's Day parade out there. Wild! Those people know how to get it crunk. I actually watched a guy repeatedly kick a huge, inverted umbrella down the street in hopes of hitting his girlfriend who was walking up ahead, arms folded- utterly pissed at him. Yeah. I guess green beer can do that. He almost caught her a couple of times too- just in case you were wondering. *shaking my head*



Before I forget, allow me to impart some wisdom on not packing any compromising or embarrassing objects for your trip. Airport security employees live for this. I was stopped for having a bottle of juice I had forgotten about in my carry-on. This guy made it a point to specify that it was a Snapple. Then he looked me squarely in the eye and said, "Ask me how I knew it was a Snapple bottle." Panic. I instantly picture the tell-tale shape of errr...um... a grown up toy and say, "I don't want to know." He smirks. I wipe the proverbial brow and keep it moving through the metal detectors. Now mind ya biz. This Bug is a grown ass woman.



Wine tastes different at hotel bars. Perhaps it's the anonymity of traveling strangers. We're all just passing through. But savoring.




I made myself a promise that I would stare at this painting the same way Cameron did in Ferris Bueller's Day Off to get some semblance of what he was feeling. It's a lot bigger than I ever imagined it. As a matter of fact, I felt very small standing before it. In short: I get it. John Hughes was a genius. R.I.P.



So... all up in his hometown and I ain't run into Common not once. But that's not why I went. Contrary to what some may believe. (Next time, Gadget. Ha.) I just wanted to Be. I'm happy to say I didn't have to ask anyone Can I Borrow A Dollar in order to steal away. This was a Resurrection of sorts. My writing. My mind. My spirit. It was almost Like Water for Chocolate in a way. I wouldn't have made this trip and have it be so meaningful without everything single thing that lead up to it days before. Deep down, I felt like I was on my way to Finding Forever but I can't say for sure. I do know however... that One Day It'll All Make Sense.


Peace.

If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies

It was brought to my attention the other day that no one really knows what a butterfly goes through on it's way out of the cocoon. It may quite possibly be the most painful and laborious change before its emergence as a beautifully colored, lighter-than-a-feather, winged creature. I don't know much about butterflies. Alas, the blog is called This Bug's Life not This Butterfly's Life. That doesn't even seem to have same ring to it, really. But this is what I do know about butterflies...I know that the original name for them was actually Flutterby and I know that once their wings have been touched- it renders them useless. They can never fly again and die soon afterward. Those are two very interesting facts to me- since I find myself going through my own transformation of sorts.

I won't detail the changes right here and now, but I will be forthcoming enough to say that I feel a tremendous emotional growth taking place. The things that would have bothered me previously are making their way underfoot where they belong. I see things, myself and others through such a different light these days. I can recall past events with alacrity- now devoid of the cynicism that so often accompanied those memories. It doesn't happen overnight. I know this. But I feel the shift.

As arduous as some of these changes may be, I know all of it brings me closer to what I am ultimately supposed to be. A beautiful creature, bright colors abound. Free to flutter by and fly. Touch the warmth and float above the grayness that dooms most days. But after seeing what those days had to offer- it should come as no surprise that these changes are inevitable. Watch the cocoon closely for the Black Butterfly that is This Bug.

"Love" Lockdown

In the blogosphere, it's all about sharing. This Bug is going to talk about something I promised to share earlier last week. My self-imposed celibacy. I was in my early twenties and just ended a long term relationship. It was an amicable decision and I was looking forward to being by myself for a while. Everything was going well. I really wasn't interested in meeting anyone new. Casual dating was never really my thing, much less casual sex. So there I was, going about my business- finally reconnecting with myself without the distraction of a relationship. I read more books, saw a ton of films alone and starting writing what I consider some of my better work at the time. It was really going well until...I started to get that itch.

All of sudden, I began to think deeply about sex and how much it meant to me. Since I was no longer in a steady relationship, the pickings looked slim. My train of thought was this: I will not back peddle to a previous partner, as easy as that seemed- and there was no way I was going to meet someone brand new and just give it up. I know it might sound prudish- but This Bug cannot just freak off with any ole person. I have to feel a connection more strongly than just pure attraction. Sharing my body with another was never something I took lightly. So what was I to do? Well, "self love" was definitely an option. I have a friend who always said, "When you ain't got a man- you got a hand." Funny, because I always thought in response to this, "But...a man has a hand and it feels so much better than my own." But I began to ruminate on the purpose of sex outside of how good it felt. I'm not a religious person by any means- but the idea of an act to procreate was always in the back of my mind. I thought about my last relationship and how much that person was not "Baby Daddy" material. (I say this because at 22, marriage was not at all on my to-do list.) Then it dawned on me. The person I sleep with could potentially be linked to me for life if we were to have a child. Did I want that? My internal answer was a clamoring HELL NO. But shit happens. In the heat of the moment, your body might scream out HELL YES instead, or the condom breaks. Why would I want to risk any of that with some random dude I met at the club?



Anyway, my No Sex thing went on for roughly ten months. The first six were a breeze. By the last four however, even the broomstick looked good. I began to really understand how a man could look at some random woman and instantly think of tappin' that ass. Men were like nicely fleshed out mannequins to my eyes. I thought about warm breath against my neck. The powerful feeling of a torso between my thighs...it was agony. I missed breaking a sweat with someone besides myself. But it was never far from my mind that I could give in any time I wanted. It's general knowledge that it's easier for a woman to get down than it is for man. It's the Vagina Rule- I have the vagina, so I make the rules. We need little more than opportunity- which can be created out of thin air. We go through dry spells that can easily become monsoons with one phone call. When I finally did give in- it was after I found a sense of peace within. I was ready to share myself again because I understood how much I had to offer beyond a pound of flesh. I would recommend this to anyone, male or female- regardless of orientation, since it gives you time to reexamine what matters most to you.



In case anyone is wondering, that first session after ten months was like the first time all over again. They don't call it Born Again Virgin for nothing...and the magnitude of that Big O was a 9.9 on the Richter Scale- believe that!

Let me get back to you...

I try my best to be a woman of my word. At the end of the day, it's all I have. Whenever I have agreed to do some sort of favor (no matter how inconvenient it may later reveal itself to be) I follow through because I gave my word that it would be done. For some reason though, when engaged in one of my guilty pleasures I find this difficult to execute once I utter the words, "Let me call you right back." I've been saying that a lot lately. For those who have been on the receiving end of this half-truth, let me apologize now. Suffice to say that when these ill-timed calls come in, more than likely I am indulging in one of the following guilty pleasures. Or maybe I'm just genuinely busy. It's not like I'm gonna actually admit when it's one or the other.


A Good Book


I can't help it. I get lost. There is something to be said about traveling without moving to distant places. I seldom admit that I'm reading and wish to be left alone because I always feel that most folks won't understand. A real page turner gets me going. It can easily be hours before I return to the real world.



Cooking
Although I may sound exasperated when I get calls in my kitchen, the truth is that one of my favorite pastimes is being intruded upon. It is my way of relaxing. Pots and pans bring me joy. Except for when it's time to wash them. In that case, I will be happy to lounge around on the phone. Anything to stave off the dreaded clean-up. I should hope that no one gets too upset about this one, mainly because they are more than welcome to stop by and get a plate once I'm finished.


The Office

Okay, let me be clear. If it's 9 p.m. on Thursday, don't even bother calling. I am too busy getting my Dunder Mifflin fix. Here's the thing: As much as I hate(ed) everything about Corporate America, there's something I relate to enormously. At some point or another, I have worked with virtually every character on this show. I just never had Michael Scott as a boss and that sucks. He's the coolest boss ever... In TV land, anyway. Maybe if you're lucky, I've missed the original showtime and will catch it on hulu.com later that week. As a matter of fact, scratch that. I won't answer phone if I'm playing catch up online, either.


Shoe Shopping

This task requires my undivided attention. Be it online or in the actual store, I have tunnel vision when this is taking place. Also, I'm usually so giddy after the footwear purchase that I've forgotten who called me and it will take a few hours before I return that call. Unless I want to gush about the hot new pair. In which case, I'll probably be yanking you from whatever your guilty pleasure is. Sidebar: True story. I once called an amiga of mine at 1 a.m. to lament ruining a pair of boots that were not even 24 hours old with some friggin' Papa John's garlic grease. You see? The pendulum swings both ways.


Writing

It pretty much goes without saying that while I am new to this; I'm true to this. If I'm in a creative zone, everyone benefits if I'm left alone until I'm done. The perfectionist in me goes back to edit so often that I really do need the solitude to get it right. What can I say? My public needs me. I shall not be disturbed. I kid, I kid...


Chocolate

I can't be alone here, People. Too much of anything can cause sensory overload, but this is a wonderful way to indulge. Whether it comes in the form of a 3 x 5 Ghirardelli bar or 5 ft, 11 inches of milk chocolately smoothness, I refuse to be interrupted. The promise of call back weighs heavily on how soon I recover from my cocoa induced coma.


Movies

Yes, all DVD remotes are equipped with a pause button. But I would rather not have to use mine. Anyone who knows me knows that This Bug is a bona fide movie buff. Everything from foreign films to documentaries keeps me riveted. It's been said that no two people ever watch the same movie. I take it all in. The storyline, the cinematography, the subtle details of a performance. Everything about it is an experience that one should be able to enjoy without obstruction. It is your birthright. I even try not to eat while watching a film because in the split second it may take to look down at my food, I may have missed something. Sidebar: It annoys me when I ask others to watch a movie I really want them to see and they look away from the screen. I know that sounds über neurotic but it's true.

So there you have it, Folks. Yet another peek into the inner workings of This Bug. The next time one of you hear me say that I'll call you right back, just know that I am simply cashing in on some serious 'Bug Time' and it's nothing personal. Of course, I could just be vacuuming. In which case I'll be more than happy to shoot the shit. Ummmkay?

Try It Sometime

Okay. It's been a month since I returned from Miami. It was nothing major. I just really needed to get away. Away from manning front desks, shuttling nieces and nephews and mandatory grocery missions. I needed to unplug. It's funny how almost a month later people are still asking why I went on vacation by myself.

Is it so wildly outrageous for a grown woman to pick up and whisk herself away instead of waiting for the perfect moment to happen to her? No man or monetary windfall needed? There are two types of people in this world. People who things happen to- and people who make things happen. So if I fall into the latter category, you can understand why this inquiry is starting to annoy me.

My first instinct is to ask them why they feel that one should always be accompanied on a trip. Are you not comfortable enough with yourself to simply just...be?

But that reply is snide and snobbish so I smile and simply say, "You should try it sometime."