Deep-sea diving for rookies

The other night Jonathan, Jamie, and I went to a Vietnamese restaurant here in Atlanta. It's called Pho #1. I've had pho once before while visiting Christine in Concord, but knowing you'll be in the land of pho in less than two weeks makes you pay a little bit more attention.

As we sat there and tried to understand the waiter, tried to figure out what all the greenery they brought us was and whether we were supposed to eat all of it (is mint a garnish in pho or part of the soup?) I began to feel like someone who had just signed up for a deep-sea expedition and never been deeper than their knees in water. The person on the space ship to the moon who has never been on a plane. Unprepared. Nervous. Overwhelmed.

Then today, as I sat in Taco Bell (I don't think they have it in Vietnam) reading my newly acquired Vietnamese phrasebook, the feeling returned. How can there be six meanings for one word, only differentiated by the tonality of the word? I'm going to be ordering someone's grandmother served with a side of apartment.

I have been having a lot of weird dreams lately. This is due partially to the madness of my life - which includes a terrible diet and odd hours - and partially to my dna. As I drifted between sleep and wakefulness on Saturday morning I thought "I had the strangest dream that I was moving to Vietnam - and who moves to Vietnam??" The thought startled me completely awake and I realized it was true. Jonathan and I move to Vietnam.

In spite of my trepidation I am happy about it. I don't think I will really be able to be excited until we have moved out of this apartment, I have flown my last trip, and we have said our last sad goodbyes. Once again, there is no adventure without pain.

These are the days.

Tonight I lie in bed and listen to the squeal of metal on metal as a train passes. I just bought tickets for the first leg of our United States exodus and the reality of Vietnam is setting in. I wonder what the nighttime sounds will be like in one month.

Today in church I knew all the songs. I like this because then I can really sing along. I especially like "Come Thou Fount." The harmony is easy and I love the thought of my heart being bound by God's mercy. Mercy is a wonderful chain.

As I sang I realized that I didn't have to worry about my voice cracking. I could push as hard as I could and it would go. My range is still the same, but there is so much more to my voice.

It reminded me of what a momentous year this has been. Extreme and wonderful voice-altering surgery in January (shortly following my 29th birthday.) A trip to Thailand in March where I rode an elephant and snorkeled for the first time. In April, a tumultuous, short-lived, and productive break from Jonathan was followed by thoughts of moving to Vietnam. These thoughts quickly became a reality which fast forwarded our desire to be married. July made us legal. August made us official. We had the best wedding I could have ever hoped for.

Now it's August. I'm a married woman. I'm living in Jonathan's apartment surrounded by all of our (I'm getting used to things being ours now) earthly possessions. It's driving me insane, but thankfully the mess is temporary (I hope the insanity is too). Jonathan is gone for what I'm hoping will be the last stretch of days/nights we'll spend apart for a long while.

Lately, I often feel on the verge of tears. I have never been happier than I am now. Somehow though, happy tears feel the same coming out as sad tears do. The happiness of going to Vietnam with my best friend and husband can't exist without the sadness of leaving my family and friends. I have a friend here who is sick, and I don't know if I'll see him when I come back.

There is no adventure without some pain.

All is now quiet outside. My insides are trying to follow suit. Even good changes take getting used to.

Bachelor pad popcorn

I have moved into a bachelor pad. Because of this, I am having popcorn, pepper jack cheese, and beer for a dinner at midnight. I don't want to get my fingers dirty so I'm eating popcorn in a way that reminds me of my daddy and of being in the nursery as a kid. Different parents took turns keeping the nursery during church. Sometimes my parents would bring popcorn as a snack, and my daddy taught us to eat the popcorn off the napkin/paper towel with no hands. Just by using our tongues to pick up the popcorn. Evidently it wasn't the most civilized way to do things, but I enjoyed it. As a child, it's practically magic to be able to pick something up just by touching it with your tongue. Well mannered or not, it was a lot more fun than what other parents were teaching in nursery.

It dawned on me, on the way home tonight, that I officially no longer live at 1660 Peachtree. No more crazy left turns across Peachtree Street (or is it Peachtree Road at that point?) No more obnoxious speed bumps. No more spying on all the crazies at the pool. No more speedo man. No more huge closet, bedroom, and shower.

In exchange, I get to live with my best friend (who happens to be my husband.) I'm pretty sure he's worth the closet. Until Saturday, though, I'm in housing limbo. Everything is a mess right now, but it's okay.

Tonight I finished my last trip for the next 11 or so days.

Life is wonderful.