kaylaschelling

[kaylaschelling]

Shopping with a 70-year-old British Lady

My most treasured memories have occurred because of unforeseen timing with the most unsuspected characters. The guest star in this tale is a seventy-year-old English lady I met at an art gallery opening.

My French WWOOFing host happened to be in London the same week I was. Knowing that I studied art, she invited me to a gallery to meet her and her husband. Mr. and Mme. Williams (he’s British, she’s French) were a sweet and quirky couple, but this journal isn’t about them.

This journal is about a bright-blue-eyed, fiery lady who approached me in the gallery restroom with a very confrontational question. “So what’d you think about the gallery?”

“I don’t have much to say about it… Cool stuff, but nothing really blew me away.”

“RIGHT?! Nobody’s original nowadays! It’s like copying somebody else’s outfit!” “Imagine showing up at a party and finding out that some chick is wearing the same dress as you!” She giggled.

Noticing my accent, she asked, “So where’re you from and how’d you end up here?” “San Francisco; traveling around Europe for a few months.” “Oh, I used to love San Francisco in the sixties! Which reminds me, I’m reading a book about Asian immigrants and mail-order brides and strong-willed women!” That was the first odd coincidence; my mom’s a strong-willed Asian immigrant who ended up in California thanks to technically being a mail-order bride (more on that story later.)

We started to leave the gallery. Assuming that we were about to part ways, we finally exchanged names. And that leads to the second odd coincidence.

He name’s Mikayla; funny not only because my name’s Kayla, but because her nickname is “Miki.” She loves all things Disney and was even carrying a Minnie Mouse purse that evening.

Y'all who know me know that I worked at Disney for a few months prior to this trip. I was even carry a stuffed version of my boss, Mickey, in my purse. (He tagged along so I could take photos of him for my mom’s kindergarten class.)

Miki asked where I was off to next that night, and I gave her my honest answer.

“I don’t know. Anywhere.”

“Well, follow me then! I’ll point out some places where I used to hang out.”

And that’s how our night began.

“I was taking a bus recently and we drove through this alley and I yelled, ‘THAT’S MY BAR!’ Imagine me, a seventy-year-old woman, screaming that while on a bus! People probably thought I was crazy! Well, they’re not completely wrong. But really, that’s where I used to get drunk and salsa dance when I was around your age. The front looked almost exactly the same. The inside didn’t seem as fun as it used to be.

"So what part of San Francisco did you live in? Oh, near Haight-Ashbury? I used to love the Haight! Do you imagine it’s changed since the sixties? Oh…Well, that’s a shame.

"You know, Francis Coppola and I would hang out in every near and then. Before he was famous, of course.

[Coppola directed The Godfather series.]

"One day when I was visiting San Francisco, I called up Francis who was living in L.A. at the time. Turns out, he was in San Francisco that very night! So we met up.

"I remember… We were sitting on some corner on Nob Hill, drinking gin out of paper bags. He was pitching movie ideas to me, but didn’t think he’d ever make it big. So I yelled at him: 'FRANCIS, WHERE ARE YOUR TONGS?!’”

“His what?”

“Tongs, honey! You know, to put sugar cubes in your tea! He just needed that extra push! I bet him $10 that he’d create blockbusters, but I didn’t have any money with me. So drunk me asked people walking by if they’d give me a dollar so I could prove Francis wrong. And before I knew it, ten people gave me a dollar each.”

We ended up at a massive clothing store called Primark, which is essentially the Forever 21 of Europe. Miki commented, “This place sometimes has hidden gems on sale. But don’t tell anyone you shop here. They’ll look down on you.”

After mentioning that my next stop would be France, Miki insisted that I pick up some trendy clothes and accessories. “You know how the French can be.”

I tried on a striped sweater, but Miki reacted that it was too boring for me. Fortunately, the next one I tried on—with bold, geometric blocks of color—was approved.

In the swimsuit aisle: “These bikinis are only £4. And the color would be stunning on you. Don’t worry about trying them on. I can tell they’ll fit. I used to be a fit model for lingerie. I know these things.”

Sunglasses: “HAH! These look ridiculous on me! Maybe they’ll be okay on you, you’ve got a bigger head? OH MY GOSH. THEY ARE SO YOU. You have to get them!”

In the lingerie aisle, I picked up a pretty little bralette. Miki found matching bottoms…and a garter belt.

“Miki,” (already knowing she would tell me to get the whole set,) “I’m just getting the bralette. I’m not planning on doing anything crazy this trip.”

“Oh, but you must get these, too! Now you’ve still got the body for it! And you’re travelling Europe, dear. You have my email. I obviously don’t want pictures or details. Just let me know when I can say 'I told you so.’”

I ended up purchasing much more than I had expected, but at least every item had Miki’s approval.

We wandered around London’s Soho district, swapping travel stories like how David Bowie hit on her best friend when they were in Singapore and how Gabriel Iglesias bought me a shot of fireball in Stockholm.

Miki mentioned how she was engaged once when she was in her twenties.

“He was Italian and we were in love. But one day, he said 'I can drink wine everyday, but not champagne.’ I was simply too bubbly for him. Dodged one there, didn’t I?

"If I did end up getting married and having kids, I’d definitely have grandkids by now. How old are you?”

“Twenty-three!”

“Yeah, if I had a granddaughter, she’d probably be your age now. And probably traveling just like you.”

Our conversations meandered around London’s corners. Before I knew it, it was around 11pm, four hours after first meeting her.

She was sharing yet another crazy story with me. But mid sentence, she turned to her right.

“Oh, my bus is here! Well, I don’t know how we ended up spending this much time together, but tonight has been lovely!”

She hugged me, pecked me on the cheek, got on the double-decker bus, and was gone as instantly as the moment we clicked.

---

Follow up: Yes, I emailed her. Yes, she responded. She was real and remembers me and had wished me the best for my adventures.

[kaylaschelling]

A Brief Memoir of London

London isn’t too different from home. It’s got a history-rich heart and a progressive mind, and the two are always in conflict with one another. I didn’t feel like much of an outsider, besides the realization that I became the one with an accent and many things are called by a different name: a pickle is a gherkin, an elevator is a lift, T.J. Maxx is T.K. Maxx.

My inner self-critic didn’t see the point of visiting London again; I’ve already been here twice before and it’s anything but outside of my comfort zone. It’s actually been odd roaming around a city that’s supposed to be foreign and yet finding traces of my past here and there. • 17-year-old Kayla shared a kiss with her short-lived summer sweetheart on the Eye. • 21-year-old Kayla went streaking with an Australian around midnight through St. James’ park.

However, I’ve now realized the sense of starting 23-year-old Kayla’s “Big Adventure” somewhere more comfortable.

Instead of cramming London into two days, as I had my previous trips, I’ve been here eight days. This has allowed me plenty of much-craved time for reflection and writing—time I hadn’t had my past four years at university or the past few months working at Disneyland. My typical London day has consisted of sleeping in (a favorite pastime), camping out at a café to read, write, and catch up with loved ones back home, and then wander around the city at a leisurely pace.

Speaking of wandering and finding traces of my past, London is actually where 17-year-old me discovered her love for solo exploration. One of my favorite high school teachers takes the senior class on a European tour each summer, and my class chose the U.K. as our destination. Our last full day was in London, and we were given a few hours of free time to either shop for souvenirs or visit the Tower of London. For whatever reason, I was the only student who wanted to check out the Tower, so one of the chaperones (let’s call her Ms. H) and I headed there, just the two of us. We students weren’t allowed to go off by ourselves unless we were in groups of at least three or had a chaperone with us. But soon as we passed through the admission gates, Ms. H stopped and said to me, “I trust you won’t do anything stupid. Just meet me back here in an hour.”

That was the single most freeing moment of my life so far. I explored the Tower for a few minutes, then wandered off elsewhere. I crossed the Tower Bridge for my first time and completely by myself. I discovered a summer festival filled with carnival rides and colorful souvenirs. I strolled along the Thames, soaking in London’s diverse culture of live jazz bands, fragrant Indian food, and Elizabeth II bobble head dolls. And the craziest part… NOTHING HAPPENED TO ME. I had just survived a whole hour wandering around a foreign city all by myself!

Those short minutes sparked a desire to return to London again and, one day, discover what else the world had to offer but at my own pace.

I do still love traveling with the people I love, but there’s something about solo travel that just feels so exhilarating yet so natural to me. Perhaps it’s been the result of being an only child, and I’ve grown up using my own imagination as my favorite companion. Or maybe I’m just impatient and picky and don’t like following other peoples’ plans.

Whatever the reason, I do still owe it to this city for allowing me to open Pandora’s box of adventure. And thank you, London, for the past week of history, culture, and mindfulness.

–

At 11:30 tonight, I’ll be hopping on a bus and tomorrow morning I should wake up in Paris. Updates to come.

[kaylaschelling]

Prague, June 2015

Prague, June 2015–This is quite possibly my favorite photo I’ve ever taken.

Pictured: a mama swan and her cygnets, the infamous Charles Bridge, and a five-story club where I spent several nights that I’ll never remember.

Not pictured: the backstory.

When I was 21 years old, (uhem…a whole two years ago,) I spontaneously bought a cheap ticket to Stockholm, and then planned out a 25-day solo adventure throughout nine countries across Europe. I thought I had everything figured out; every hostel, every train ticket, every attraction. What I wasn’t ready for was the unexpected.

Each destination brought me unforgettable stories, but my favorite became Prague. This was partly because of the city’s medieval charm, just bursting with history. Another part was that I got lucky with good weather and a pilsner at every meal. But Prague truly became my favorite after pulling an all-nighter with a few fellow travelers and the Charles Bridge at dawn.

“Kayla, you’re like a swan,” one of my new friends said as we watched a wedge of swans fly over the Vtalva River, the sunrise reflecting off of their wings. “You’re poised and graceful, but you could kick someone’s ass if you had to.”

I’d like to think that’s still accurate.

To summarize the following hours, I stumbled back to my accommodations, threw my clothes in my backpack, made it to the Prague airport to catch a flight to Paris, realized I forgot something, taxied back to the city, ended up getting locked in a hallway for three hours with a dead phone, and missed my flight. Quite the swan, wasn’t I?

After being rescued from the hallway by a very confused local, I found shelter in the closest McDonald’s, and then called my mother to help me troubleshoot. With her aid, I booked a hostel bed for one more night in Prague and rescheduled my flight for the next evening. I can’t check in to my hostel for another few hours, so I wandered around the city– backpack, tears, and all.

I often choose to depend on my senses rather than maps for direction. I used my eyes to lead me to crowds taking Instagram-worthy photos at the Lennon Wall. My ears followed a jazz band playing on Střelecký Island. My nose and mouth brought me to a booth selling Czech craft beers. And my hands felt the refreshing grass of the riverbank, where sleep deprived me decided to take a nap.

I dozed off for about an hour, and woke up to see the bevy of swans floating in the river just a few yards away.

Hah. It looks like they’re swimming towards me. Wait. Oh what the eff… They ARE swimming towards me!

Before I could process it, mama swan and her babies were just a few inches away from me. I wasn’t the only one who noticed this phenomenon; tourists started to crowd around, apparently fascinated by the birds and their new American acquaintance.

So that’s the abbreviated backstory of my photo. I wish I could say that the swans started speaking to me or at least pooped on my lap. But that moment (and the photo) truly became my favorite due to the realization that it’s okay if things don’t go as planned. Having everything go as planned won’t make you a “good” traveler. Perhaps you’d be less of a shit show… But I understood the true lessons of flexibility and the benefits of adventure when I was forced to let go of my plans. And even if things go wrong, I’m never anything less than a graceful badass.

–

Five months ago, I found another cheap ticket to Europe and spontaneously purchased it again. The flight was supposed to be for March, but around Christmastime, I moved my flight up to, well, tomorrow, January 27. Cheers to my next adventure and many more poor decisions. The swan’s ready to take flight again.

[kaylaschelling]

Unsolicited advice for your 2017:

1. Don’t let a tiny amount of someone else’s disappointment get in the way of your goals.

2. Don’t be afraid of feelings you might feel if you take a risk. Maybe I’ll feel homesick. Maybe I’ll feel scared. Maybe I’ll feel embarrassed. Don’t let those maybes stop you.

3. Don’t say “yes” when you really want to say “no.”

4. Recognize your flaws, but don’t let them determine your future. Fight back.

5. Stop stalking people on Instagram trying to come up with a million reasons why you’re better than them.

6. Remember: your self-worth does not depend on how others perceive you.

7. Eat your goddamn vegetables.

8. Stop obsessing with trying to be the best at everything.

9. Always remove your makeup before going to bed.

10. Don’t sacrifice your comfort to fall asleep in a cute position. Waking up refreshed is more valuable than cuddling.

[kaylaschelling]

February 2016 Thoughts

Maybe it’s just this Mint Mojito from Phillz kicking in, but I’ve just felt a rush of euphoria I’ve been lacking the past few weeks.

My last semester of (undergrad) education has just begun. That fact combined with the usual struggles of life has been keeping me very preoccupied. Getting asked about my post-grad plans and career goals at least once a day doesn’t help.

Find a job, get a teaching credential, continue to work odd jobs, move back in with the parents, travel, try to “adult”… My answer depends on the context of the conversation.

There are, however, two constants. Art and people. These were my only “future plans” during my senior year of high school. Four years of education and experiences later, and those are still the two things I am most motivated to work with.

Perhaps I’ll be an art teacher… Professor! Maybe I’ll design for a non-profit or curate socially-aware works. Or have a “normal” 9-5 half of the year, and travel the other half. Or bartend. Or blow glass. Or be a freelance illustrator. Or art therapist. Or website developer. Or librarian.

“The Dream” is not a location or a job description. It’s to find myself in a place where I can be creative, celebrate people’s stories, and do something good for the world.

I’m living in a snapshot of “The Dream” right now; sitting in a coffee shop in the most eclectic city in the world. 15 Google Chrome tabs open, mostly due to website work for a non-profit performing arts company. Earbuds blasting some indie playlist published on Spotify. (Does this mean I’m a hipster now?) Homework for tonight consists of illustrating an anti-smartphone article, creating stencils of Bernie Sanders, and buying a domain name for my portfolio.

The past has been tragic, but I survived. The present is hectic, but I’m learning. The future is vague, but knowing myself, it’ll be epic.

Thank you, Phillz, for giving me my mojo back.