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[polinathinkstoomuch-blog]

Day 2/3 - Hallucinations & Realizations

I’m rehashing both days today because I had Tumblr issues (and some dedication to this issues), so I apologize in advance for the length, but you know what, I think the cumulative recap will actually help tie some things together so I'm not really that sorry about it you're welcome.

If you read Day 1, good news, I did resolve to hiking yesterday. Bad news, mistake. Still harboring some insecurities about going out there alone, I walked toward the hiking trail sign and then proceeded to out loud talk myself through it - like cute, bunnies! And where am I going, and I guess this is a trail if I follow the signs and then, completely causally, that’s a coyote. At which point I immediately booked it right back the way I came, looking behind me the entire time to make sure that a DESERT WOLF (spelling is very key here for maximum dramatic effect - a dessert wolf wouldn’t garner nearly as much concern) wasn’t following me. This makes the people I saw night hiking yesterday even crazier. A blind wild mountain pig is one thing - you can probably drop kick it out of your path - but I don’t know what kind of white privilege lets you fuck with coyotes in the dark. I don’t have it. The best part is that everyone else was so nonchalant about it - my mom advised me to just walk behind the other woman hiking; the barista the next day - upon hearing that I saw a coyote - laughed. Like that was the local coyote. Oh Tom, you trouble-maker, when will you learn - that sort of thing. Arizona makes you numb to face-eating wolves apparently.

Instead, I decided to hike the property which is miles upon miles of desert, cactus, prickly tress and walls of khaki and beige. I expected to have a lot of thoughts and emotions hiking, of having the earth unveil itself under your feet - and maybe if I was going up the mountain instead of horizontally - I would have, but I had no thoughts - until about 45 minutes in - at which point I started thinking how do people do 8 miles of this?!?! At two miles in I started hallucinating. Not in the way of seeing bunny rabbits everywhere - although there were rabbits everywhere this is apparently a luxury rabbit farm - but in the way of being completely devoid of anything. It may be the 98 degree heat that literally fogs everything around you to make it seem like time isn’t moving, but also, I think for me particularly, the fact that I’m in a desert. There is something about that land that makes me feel lost; like my car broke down in the middle of nowhere and I’m hiking to what I hope is the nearest gas station and not a the hills have eyes community. It was not for me. So I chose not to hike again during this trip, but instead have committed myself to doing something I surprisingly found way more enjoyable - tanning to music and swimming. 

Swimming the first day was interesting because it still brought up some solo guilt. The first time I went into the water it was just me on the right side of the pool, and I enjoyed it some much - more so than I expected since I truly detest the smell and feel of chlorinated water - what I don’t detest is the all over body chill when you glide through the water. When I wanted to go back in after baking in the sun, I noticed a couple in the water and had a moment where I didn’t want to disturb their space - be this object swimming in the parallel lane. That lasted about 3 minutes, but it’s an insecurity that I have in the back of my head - the need to have to explain or apologize for my presence as a “permanently single.” The idea that my body takes up space in an unnatural way. But I slid into that water regardless because I remembered how much I loved it and nothing stops me from reliving the small loves in my life.

On my Day 3 swims (first at the pool then at the spa pool this SPA man, I could move in and live there, more below), I harkened back to a thought I had on Day 2 - which I may have written about and then had promptly deleted in front of my eyes by this website or my laptop or both - that age - for me - is really about sitting into my personality but that doesn’t mean hard headedness to change - but instead a more narrowed focus on what I want my life to look like and who I want to live it as without compromise for expectations. It came from how much easier swimming was today than yesterday’s heavy breathing nonsense, and the difference being focus - of following my hands, watching my palms switch positons, eliminating everything that wasn’t directly in front of me.

Speaking of the spa, man, listen. It was amazing. It was expensive, but it was truly gold. Now I have never had a message before so a full body scrub and hot oil was already going to be a boundary crossing moment for me, but the moment that salt hit my skin and the pressure pushed into my back it was like having everything pushed out of me, without me knowing how much I needed that - even if symbolically. I tend to absorb everything that happens to me - I’m super sensitive sue me; everything good and bad, and just let it sit in my body like a mass and then continue moving with all of it inside me and then just bring it up like leftovers when I can’t find the silence. I call it experience or a reference bank or coping whatever it needs to be for the purpose of explaining it to people, but it’s there, for a lifetime of forgiving but not forgetting and it gets heavy. So to be in a room where everything is designed (both audibly and visually) to remove you from your physical presence there - was such a relief. I felt so clean and warm and comfortable that I felt like I was falling down slowly into a bottomless end - on both the facial and body scrub days. I spent hours HOURS in that spa, reading under the low lights, smelling the incense, listening to the Japanese flutes, drinking crystal water, taking over a cabana, gliding around in mineral enhanced water or whatever they drop into that pool (hopefully not acid), but it’s glorious. And the sheer feeling of being there entirely alone (no exaggeration - I was by myself at the spa pool and the main pool for hours at a time) and feeling settled in my skin to dance, sing along, read a book, swim, all at my own pace and schedule was really freeing and easy.

And that’s how I would describe this entire vacation - easy. It is the easiest vacation I have ever been on. There has been no pressure to do or not do anything. No topics of conversation planned, no responses required, no responsibility for another person’s good time, feelings, thoughts. I was at my own disposal; everything was on my time, when and for how long I wanted to do it and no one made me feel uncomfortable about it and I didn’t feel guilty or obligated back. There were spurts - because phones exist - but for the most part I felt like I didn't have to be accountable to anyone else and that in and of itself was such a break from my everyday life where I don’t want the people I care about to forget. The spa also brought me full confirmation - in the form of an aesthetician - that the natural color of my skin is pale (color you shocked) - so fair, that it reacts to every touch by turning pink. She asked if I blushed when I’m embarrassed. I said I had no idea, I have no shame.

My dad sent me flowers today for my birthday - thanks Dad! Everybody asked who they were from and I’m all my Dad, you know my taste in men, which one of them would have the consideration, the character, the moral and ethical  dedication to reciprocity of treatment, would ever send me flowers - especially to a different state, girl please, it’s my Dad. And that’s fine. At least my Dad means it. I remember when a co-worker of mine and I were sitting in my kitchen trying to warm up after we got flooded out of Lolla and he noticed a card I have on my fridge that says happy birthday. He asked me if it was, and I responded that it was from last year’s flowers - I kept it on the refrigerator to remind myself that my parents love me. He laughed because of course your parents love you. But Billy, it’s the only love I value because it’s the only one I can rely on. My parents - suffocatingly so - love me. Care about my well being and my safety and I’m getting a little emotional even typing this - I can’t say the same about anybody else and this is not meant to be insulting or discount the friendships I have in any way, all of which I truly appreciate and put my energy into reciprocating and rewarding as much as and every chance I get, but people have their own lives - they change, they move, they develop different inner circles, their priorities changes, their partner’s priorities change and they leave first in body then in spirit or vice versa. It’s an unreliable moment - that trap door floor is what keeps me independent - its what keep me focused on relying on myself more than anyone else. Other than my parents. I unabashedly need my parents. I need their presence, and their dumb jokes and their uncomfortable friendship with my dog - and I loved seeing those flowers. I love seeing that card every day, and I worry only about being a person that loses their respect and their presence - but truly not much else. So yes, I like the reminder Billy. It pushes me when people live their own lives around me and despite me. I’m going to try to think of a way to get these flowers on board. I’m thinking Ziploc with water - vase in bag - I don’t know. Stay on your toes TSA.

Ugh, and now I have to go back to work in my aggressively air conditioned cubicle including to people that I have let disrespect me in the past from a place where I respect myself. Annoying. Oh well, at least I’ve removed them from my life - even if not from my eyesight - and that’s a big enough step for now. Thanks AZ.

[polinathinkstoomuch-blog]

Day 1 - Overcompensation.

Or what goes through my head repeatedly and unnecessarily as I put myself into Day 1 of a solo Arizona trip.

If I had to boil Day 1 down to a dish it would be in a bed of tolerance and overcompensation, with a sprinkling of completeness in a slightly anxious reduction. I’m also reading a book about the restaurant industry - Sweetbitter - so it may get insufferable.

So I started off overcompensating the moment I walked towards registration, but it’s not entirely (or you know what screw that – I’d wager not even at all) my fault, but SOCIETY has attached a stigma to single anyones, but even much more so to single women. It is as if a person on their own is there by the accidents of their life; they had to have been abandoned through the choices of others, a reflection of them as a person – just simply not someone who would be chosen – and that if they had their druthers they would be there with someone else, anyone else, just craving and scavenging for the attention of others. This is super dramatic. I get it – but really, try going out to dinner by yourself and see how many times you get (1) asked if someone is joining you – even when you asked for a table for one; (2) ask you if something happened or keep asking repeatedly if you’re okay; (3) ask you if you’re new and/or not from the city; (4) abandon you – straight up forget your table exists for a good 30-45 minute increments at a time. I know there are women reading these (especially those that have traveled for business) that are mentally or audibly checking off each of these one by one don’t @ me.

So in my complete awareness of society’s problem, I am always so nice, so accommodating. I try to make jokes and laugh and giggle and then proceed to take myself out of the conversation, because there is just this need to show people that I’m not alone because I’m an unlovable monster or a narcissistic maniac (although that seems to work out as a great personality trait for men HEYO!), but a generally pleasant human being making a rational, lunacy free choice. To be by myself and god forbid make the statement that I enjoy my own company.

Or even take my behavior and the behavior of my waiter at dinner. First of all, I dressed up for dinner as if I was going out anywhere, because I owe my grandmother some respect to not walk out of the house not looking and acting my best that’s a one, and because I act the same no matter who is around me or where I am. As you know today is Beyoncé's birthday (may Beyoncé be with you and also with you) and she is inspirational to me for countless reasons but one of the biggest ones is her control. While I’m actively aware and working on it, I could never emulate that level of personality planning in my life. My face gives away my emotions; I don’t count to ten before I react to stupidity, mental laziness, or general disrespect; and I most certainly wear my heart on my sleeve. You can’t both be dramatic and controlled, or can you? Plotting the times when you’re overly dramatic - maybe? I have no idea. I viciously rolled my eyes when my laptop mouse couldn’t get it’s shit together and distinguish right from left click. The point being that I cannot help but over-exude my personality when I’m alone and people can’t help (like my waiter, god bless his heart giving me free wine and dessert and making small talk when he came over) trying to cure me of my perceived aloneness. 

As I sat there at dinner, facing this mountain, drinking this Merlot I picked out and threatening a dragonfly - out loud no less - for getting too close to my smoked mac n cheese, I thought of how easy this was. How there were no expectations of me (am I enough) or of anyone else (why are they here, where is this going and where do I want it to go, why did I allow this person to happen to me, this is partly my fault at least). I didn’t need to create conversation or atmosphere. In Sweetbitter there is a lot of talk about finding families within your circle - for her it’s a restaurant she works at - and almost curing this apparently inherent loneliness that we all have and need to fill even with shitty people. I could not disagree more; even the idea that I was sitting and not responsible for anyone’s feelings or needs was freeing. No one had to be tested for how good of a time they were having and I wasn’t in a position to have to make any decisions about what happens after dinner. No what do I want, what are the consequences, in short (HA!), no overthinking, planning, worrying, primping. Just peace. Just the feeling of sitting here, drinking the second glass of wine my waiter comped me and absorbing the fact that I created this moment myself. I gave myself permission to be here, I paid for this resort out of money I made from a job I got having no one make a call on my behalf, eating a meal I didn’t count the calories on or think whether this person or that person will like me less. Sometimes it’ s hard to find that kind of reminder in a daily life because you’re constantly surrounded by judgment, by evaluation in one way or the other - whether it’s your job or your personality, your reactions, your looks, and how much one person cares about any one part of you over another. It’ s hard to find space to tune those voices out when they’re ingrained in your day-to-day.

Which is why I so surprised at how quickly I was able to tune people around me out. I think a lot of it had to do with my general grumpiness towards unwanted guests - in that I planned something for myself how dare you change any aspect of my experience in this bubble. I mean, what kind of open to the public place is this? I put on my headphones and chair danced to the beat, listened to the lyrics, accepted every frozen mango the staff offered me, and ignored the squeals, the random conversations, the whomevers were next to me - which is a little worrisome. I managed to spend the entire afternoon that way; alternating between tanning and music and reading in the shade. I had two moments of concern - the first being the quickness with which others disappeared. That...can’t be healthy. I will give that some more thought over the next couple of days.

The second moment of hesitancy was the sudden feeling after I was ready to leave the pool was this need to fill time - immediately - to know exactly what I was doing after this and after that. But I think those are leftovers from my anxiety about the future; about wasting time and feeling like I’m constantly behind - the feeling was gone by the time I got to my room - but it was still annoying to meet after a year on my you can do things alone trip. I’m working on it.

My only guess currently - and this may change - is that I’m old and I’ve spent that time getting to old on building and cementing how I am and who I want to be as a person. That is hard to change. Not to mention that frustration of constantly having to change around one person or another; to always feel like less than or not enough - to be forced to be some tuned up or drowned out version of yourself. That is so hard - mentally and physically and that is a doubt I don’t think I deserve. My plan is to opearte under the banner of how I treat people is my karma, how they treat me is theirs. As long as I can say that my actions make me happy, I can’t imagine I’ll look back and say treating someone well was a waste of time - reciprocated or not.

Right now the most intimidating aspect is the hike. Maybe it’s the afternoon heat, but even the thought of potentially getting turned around in that weather makes me kind of nervous. I actually expected this to be the easiest decision of the trip – the most natural translation of home. I walk for absolutely no reason in Chicago – it’s how I get around even when I can make life easier on myself in an Uber or on the L. But I don’t. I like my legs getting me there. I could take a tour but I don’t really want to pay $70 to walk in a line with strangers; it would also kind of miss the boat on the theme of the trip. This is completely unrelated, but when I was at dinner I saw people coming down from the trails with flashlights. I want nothing to do with that group because they are the kind of people that got told about the wild mountain pigs and still went. No thanks lunatics. I’m going to try tomorrow morning. Stay tuned.

[polinathinkstoomuch-blog]

Pre thoughts.

Or what goes through my mind repeatedly unnecessarily before my first solo vacation.

I do a lot of things on my own. It’s basically my claim to fame; my point of pride is my self-sufficiency, a self-sustaining island of a person. I love going to concerts by myself, out for walks, out to any and every meal, the movies - but I’ve never traveled alone. So as my birthday rolls around - being a time of self evaluation as to where I am, where I’ve been and what I want to change - I decided it would be the perfect time to test myself because who doesn’t want to try and hope to not fail on their birthday.

I had only a few requirements on the location, which you can read as I wanted to go on a vacation by myself to a place that I would want to be alone in. So a dip not a dive.  For instance, I can lay on a beach in a Hawaiian bungalow by myself. Same goes for bungalows across the globe (including those that are on sticks in the middle of the bluest water you’ve ever seen), but there’s something about walking out of a floating bedroom in paradise on your own that just doesn’t sound romantic, desirable, passionate, all of the things I’d think a bungalow wants to promote. Not to mention it would have to be a commitment in other ways - like time and money. There are the days to get there and to get back and then you have to be there long enough to absorb it, but not too long that bored starts setting in. Despite what you may have heard (from only your much wealthier friends I assume), Hawaii is not cheap. Neither is Bora Bora or the “new Hawaii” off the coast of China - at least not in dollars. While I’d like to #treatyoself, I would also like to not come back to a giant bill to pay - a thing that does not independently take care of itself.

Cost and time took out a lot of place overseas, which to be fair, also got stricken on other grounds, namely, that Europe and Asia are just too full. There is too much history and too much to do and see that I would like to share with someone whose opinion I care about. I don’t want to take the risk of never creating stories and inside jokes. So goodbye Greece, Croatia, all of Thailand and Budapest. Nothing with a nightlife would pass either. I am not above throwing myself into the pit at the Mid and raging, but there is something entirely unsettling about doing so alone in a foreign country. The Mid may be a sweaty Molly-soaked basement, but it’s my techno trap house and that makes all the difference. And while it is not entirely realistic, one of my biggest fears is being kidnapped into sex slavery, and a European techno bar seems like a place that could happen. My father may be many things, a possessor of a very particular set of skills he is not.

Because everything happens for a reason, a lot of people in my life have traveled to Arizona this spring and have come back raving. I looked into it and it just seemed like a place that would meet all of my issues and interests. There is the safety cushion of being in the country and in an isolated, highly-rated resort. I wouldn’t have the pressure of planning anything because I’d be tied to the same place, but not for long enough to feel the need to fill time. I’d get the expanse of the desert to marinate in my own thoughts but still feel like I’m somewhere entirely different. I could bake in the sun and read. A lot of the resorts also had spa services, and I can’t think of a thing more suited for a solo experience than a body scrub. I don’t even like locking eyes with those people getting mall messages so I can imagine being semi-naked at the same time would be significantly more uncomfortable.

So tomorrow’s the big day. I’ll hike, tan, read a book about the FBI conspiring against Native Americans (what’s new), get an ultimate renewal and revival facial, eat some on-site steak, and just be entirely unbothered. I’ve had a lot of external loss this year, but double the internal growth and I would like to celebrate that strength and really sink into that introverted part of my personality. My plan is to write about my thoughts and experiences during this personal experiment every day I’m there and see what comes out on the other side. I hope you’ll join me here, or don’t, I really like my alone time. 

[polinathinkstoomuch-blog]