Hairy Alien: The honeymoon is over: a roundup

September 23, 2004

The honeymoon is over: a roundup

So, we returned home to the U.S. some two-odd weeks ago, and combined with the four weeks in Asia that I didn't write a single thing on this site, we're looking at a grand total of six weeks with not a single entry posted on Hairy Alien.

Guilty.

The silence here is not for lack of shit hitting the fan, however--oh, no. To wit:

I had a terrible flu-like thing during our last two days in Vietnam, and it stuck around for 16 hours of flying over the Pacific (Sorry, fellow passengers on EVA flight #19) and my first few days back home. For a while there, I thought I had fallen victim to Avian Flu. One day as we walked through the Old Quarter of Hanoi, a woman on the sidewalk hacked off a chicken's head and the thing (the head) flew into the street and landed at our feet. This image would haunt me in the form of several fever-induced weird dreams for days, and I became convinced that I'd soon be recounting the scene to the folks at the CDC. Byrne and I decided if my fever held on for one more day, we'd call the doctor. My temperature hit 98.6 the very next day and never went back to its old hangout of 101. Just then, Byrne's immune system finally gave in, and so it was my turn to serve the 7-Up and crackers and sleep next to a sweaty, delusional fireball for four days.

I had surgery. Many of you do not know this yet, but before our trip, a mole I've had my entire life decided to give itself a little makeover. I had the little changeling checked out, and turns out it was melanoma, a particularly serious form of skin cancer. It was caught very early--in situ,or stage 0. But I was required to see a slew of new doctors and to schedule an operation in which they'd cut away an additional margin of skin, just to be safe. The site is on my left collarbone, so my doctor didn't want me to have the operation before the trip--lugging a heavy backpack through Southeast Asia over fresh stitches is apparently not such a good idea. So two days after I got back, I jumped right back in to that most fun of modern-life games, yes folks--let's play Medical Insurance Bureaucracy! Finally, I had the surgery and though I still have gross-looking surgical tape clinging to a very visible part of my chest (but thankfully covering the likely grosser-looking stitches beneath), and I'll have to undergo full-body checks every six months for a good long time, I am feeling fine. I can't wait for turtleneck weather. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find cute tops that cover your collarbone?!

When we were in Bangkok, a very special family member whom we love with all our hearts lost his long fight with cancer. Staying in Asia rather than rushing home into the arms of our family was one of the toughest choices of our lives, but it was tempered by the fact that we knew Rob would have wanted us to stay. We thought about, talked about, and toasted Rob every single day for the rest of our trip. And as soon as we got home (and were no longer contagious) we got over to the house to help his wife Linda with whatever we could. A celebration of Rob's life was held shortly thereafter--and a day after my surgery.

My computer broke. Yep, broke. It started exhibiting symptoms of decline just before we left for Asia, prompting me to do a major backup. Then, on a lovely Sunday morning about a week after our return, it performed the random disk scan it had become so fond of, shut down, and refused to boot up again. It was a laptop, so I can't even enlist a geek friend to open it up and replace whatever got fried. I'm currently evaluating some possibilities for a replacement, not a fun-filled activity for one who is a) faced with looming medical bills, b) broke after 6 weeks of international travel, and c) chronically indecisive. In the meantime, the fab guy behind mahna mahna has been kind enough to let me use a spare ThinkPad he had kicking around. (Thanks, /\/\/\/ !)

Have I mentioned that my husband quit his job before our trip and that I have become the primary breadwinner, with my oh-so-lucrative freelance career in publishing? I've been working as much as I can in order to pad our savings a little more. Also, a client who had planned to expand my projects and thus my pay has suffered a sudden budget-cut blow and so will likely be cutting the hours I can work for them. Yeah.

I share all this not to complain, nor to justify why I have been so lax in posting here on Hairy Alien, nor to illicit sympathy or gifts (though gifts will not be rejected, especially if they start with an S-C-H and rhyme with "arffenberger Chocolate.") I tell you all this to show you that a) there is never a good time to jump feet first into a dream, say, quitting your job and traveling but b) you shouldn't let what could result from doing things such as quitting your job and traveling to discourage you from quitting your job and traveling. Almost all of the shit that hit the fan after we returned from our little adventure is shit that would have hit the fan anyway, and we wouldn't have had a lifetime of memories, a truckload of jaw-dropping photos, or new vocabulary words to show for it, either.

There was this guy whom I met in Rome when I was 22 whose answer to most questions you might pose to him was "Why not?" You'd ask him, "Cesar (yes, this actually was the name of the guy I met in Rome), should I go to that place across the street for dinner?" or "Cesar, are you going to be working here next summer, too?" or "Cesar, can I borrow a pen?". And the answer almost invariably came back, "Why not?" Perhaps this habit was merely a function of limited English vocabulary or a fondness for English slang, but Cesar was the kind of guy from whom you felt an answer like this was not only genuine but also totally natural. For a while I tried to internalize his jaunty approach, but as I grew older and more financially and temporally burdened, of course, I forgot all about it. I hadn't thought of Cesar for a long time until recently. But I have become reconvinced that if when faced with a big yes-no decision, we asked ourselves first and foremost "Why not?", things just might be a little easier--or at least, a little more interesting. A question like that makes us take a look at what our real priorities are, what holds us back, what excuses we rely upon.

So, should you do something new, fun, or impractical tomorrow? Should you do that thing you've always wanted to do but never thought you had the time, money, or guts for--tomorrow?

Why not?

Coming soon: Pleasant stories of our trip to Asia!

Posted by Arin at September 23, 2004 08:41 PM

Comments


		« See Thailand \| Main \| We Could Invite You Over for a Slideshow . . . » September 23, 2004 The honeymoon is over: a roundup So, we returned home to the U.S. some two-odd weeks ago, and combined with the four weeks in Asia that I didn't write a single thing on this site, we're looking at a grand total of six weeks with not a single entry posted on Hairy Alien. Guilty. The silence here is not for lack of shit hitting the fan, however--oh, no. To wit: I had a terrible flu-like thing during our last two days in Vietnam, and it stuck around for 16 hours of flying over the Pacific (Sorry, fellow passengers on EVA flight #19) and my first few days back home. For a while there, I thought I had fallen victim to Avian Flu. One day as we walked through the Old Quarter of Hanoi, a woman on the sidewalk hacked off a chicken's head and the thing (the head) flew into the street and landed at our feet. This image would haunt me in the form of several fever-induced weird dreams for days, and I became convinced that I'd soon be recounting the scene to the folks at the CDC. Byrne and I decided if my fever held on for one more day, we'd call the doctor. My temperature hit 98.6 the very next day and never went back to its old hangout of 101. Just then, Byrne's immune system finally gave in, and so it was my turn to serve the 7-Up and crackers and sleep next to a sweaty, delusional fireball for four days. I had surgery. Many of you do not know this yet, but before our trip, a mole I've had my entire life decided to give itself a little makeover. I had the little changeling checked out, and turns out it was melanoma, a particularly serious form of skin cancer. It was caught very early--in situ,or stage 0. But I was required to see a slew of new doctors and to schedule an operation in which they'd cut away an additional margin of skin, just to be safe. The site is on my left collarbone, so my doctor didn't want me to have the operation before the trip--lugging a heavy backpack through Southeast Asia over fresh stitches is apparently not such a good idea. So two days after I got back, I jumped right back in to that most fun of modern-life games, yes folks--let's play Medical Insurance Bureaucracy! Finally, I had the surgery and though I still have gross-looking surgical tape clinging to a very visible part of my chest (but thankfully covering the likely grosser-looking stitches beneath), and I'll have to undergo full-body checks every six months for a good long time, I am feeling fine. I can't wait for turtleneck weather. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find cute tops that cover your collarbone?! When we were in Bangkok, a very special family member whom we love with all our hearts lost his long fight with cancer. Staying in Asia rather than rushing home into the arms of our family was one of the toughest choices of our lives, but it was tempered by the fact that we knew Rob would have wanted us to stay. We thought about, talked about, and toasted Rob every single day for the rest of our trip. And as soon as we got home (and were no longer contagious) we got over to the house to help his wife Linda with whatever we could. A celebration of Rob's life was held shortly thereafter--and a day after my surgery. My computer broke. Yep, broke. It started exhibiting symptoms of decline just before we left for Asia, prompting me to do a major backup. Then, on a lovely Sunday morning about a week after our return, it performed the random disk scan it had become so fond of, shut down, and refused to boot up again. It was a laptop, so I can't even enlist a geek friend to open it up and replace whatever got fried. I'm currently evaluating some possibilities for a replacement, not a fun-filled activity for one who is a) faced with looming medical bills, b) broke after 6 weeks of international travel, and c) chronically indecisive. In the meantime, the fab guy behind mahna mahna has been kind enough to let me use a spare ThinkPad he had kicking around. (Thanks, /\/\/\/ !) Have I mentioned that my husband quit his job before our trip and that I have become the primary breadwinner, with my oh-so-lucrative freelance career in publishing? I've been working as much as I can in order to pad our savings a little more. Also, a client who had planned to expand my projects and thus my pay has suffered a sudden budget-cut blow and so will likely be cutting the hours I can work for them. Yeah. I share all this not to complain, nor to justify why I have been so lax in posting here on Hairy Alien, nor to illicit sympathy or gifts (though gifts will not be rejected, especially if they start with an S-C-H and rhyme with "arffenberger Chocolate.") I tell you all this to show you that a) there is never a good time to jump feet first into a dream, say, quitting your job and traveling but b) you shouldn't let what could result from doing things such as quitting your job and traveling to discourage you from quitting your job and traveling. Almost all of the shit that hit the fan after we returned from our little adventure is shit that would have hit the fan anyway, and we wouldn't have had a lifetime of memories, a truckload of jaw-dropping photos, or new vocabulary words to show for it, either. There was this guy whom I met in Rome when I was 22 whose answer to most questions you might pose to him was "Why not?" You'd ask him, "Cesar (yes, this actually was the name of the guy I met in Rome), should I go to that place across the street for dinner?" or "Cesar, are you going to be working here next summer, too?" or "Cesar, can I borrow a pen?". And the answer almost invariably came back, "Why not?" Perhaps this habit was merely a function of limited English vocabulary or a fondness for English slang, but Cesar was the kind of guy from whom you felt an answer like this was not only genuine but also totally natural. For a while I tried to internalize his jaunty approach, but as I grew older and more financially and temporally burdened, of course, I forgot all about it. I hadn't thought of Cesar for a long time until recently. But I have become reconvinced that if when faced with a big yes-no decision, we asked ourselves first and foremost "Why not?", things just might be a little easier--or at least, a little more interesting. A question like that makes us take a look at what our real priorities are, what holds us back, what excuses we rely upon. So, should you do something new, fun, or impractical tomorrow? Should you do that thing you've always wanted to do but never thought you had the time, money, or guts for--tomorrow? Why not? Coming soon: Pleasant stories of our trip to Asia! Posted by Arin at September 23, 2004 08:41 PM Comments Post a comment Name: Email Address: URL: Remember personal info? YesNo Comments: