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Blue, Blue Christmas

posted 26th December 2011    Written by: Kat    CATEGORY: All Posts, Kat, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 5, Travel, Travel/Adventure

I didn’t think this would be as hard as it is.

I’ve drafted countless posts about why I decided to spend the holidays in Europe, about not sticking with my plan to arrive in Australia in time to spend Christmas with my cousins there, about my family’s holiday traditions. I’ve been trying to slap a smile on my face about spending my first Christmas away from my parents and my brother. Everything that I’ve written so far felt false, and that’s not why I’m here.

So in the interest of speaking my truth, I’m here to tell you: it’s one week before Christmas, and I’ve been growing increasingly sad as December 25 draws nearer.

I didn’t think I would be. Christmas, though I have many fond memories and associated traditions, isn’t my favorite holiday. (In case you were wondering, that title goes to Thanksgiving, the day of eating all of the food and spending time with people you love.) I’ve grown accustomed to only seeing my parents once – or maybe twice – a year, and I saw them in May, shortly after I gave notice at my job. Also, I’m spending the holiday season in the best place in the world to do so: Central Europe. Lordy, do the people of this region love their Christmas markets, and I am all for that. Give me glühwein (mulled wine), cinnamon-crusted bread tubes, and glittering lights in cobblestoned squares. It’s magical, truly.

And yet, here I am, choking back tears as I think about how I won’t be baking cookies with my mom this year. (In fact, she was doing that while we were skyping yesterday.) I won’t be watching bits and pieces of A Christmas Story throughout the day, while it plays for 24 hours on TBS. (Does anyone actually sit and watch that movie the whole way through anymore?) I won’t be decorating a tree or carefully wrapping gifts for my family, including our labrador retriever, Max. (After you give him a new toy, he insists on taking it out into the back yard immediately.) I won’t be eating my parents’ homemade pierogi (the Polish equivalent of ravioli, stuffed with potato and cheese), my mom’s delicious Christmas Eve and Day feasts, or fried catfish and hushpuppies from Fred’s Fish House. (I love my mom’s cooking, but I’ve also got to take advantage of the fact that they live in the south now.)

Don’t get me wrong: I know that there are going to be awesome things about this Christmas. But right now, I want to acknowledge the sad parts. The missing-my-family parts. The things-changing-as-you-grow-up-kind-of-really-sucks-sometimes parts.

* * * * * * * * * *

By the time you’re reading this, I’ll be celebrating Christmas with my friends in Graz. I suspect baked goods and tasty drinks will be involved, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I’ll skype with my parents and grandparents, and send holiday wishes to friends who are far away. I hope that some of today’s sadness will have passed as I create new traditions with friends and enjoy my adventure.

Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope you enjoy the day, however you celebrate. And if it’s just another Sunday, let it be a good one!

[photo credit: me!]

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Moving Makes Me Feel Happy. And Guilty. But Mostly Happy. Sort Of.

posted 11th March 2010    Written by: Katie    CATEGORY: Katie, Quarterlife Crisis, Season 2, Travel

It’s  hard for me to imagine that in 2 short months, I won’t be in New Jersey. Chances are, I’ll be over 500 miles away.

I’ll undoubtedly miss some things, like cheese steaks and Tastykakes. But, the things one would normally miss in life? Those are a different story.

My biggest problem with moving isn’t the traditional regret or indecision. For the first time in my life, I’ve made a decision and I’m actually sticking to it. Ask around, I tend to not make decisions about anything in my life including where to go for dinner or what I want for my birthday.

My number one reason for this insanity being that I don’t want to offend or impose on anyone else. Even if I have to put my own wants and preferences aside, it’s always been worth it to make others happy.

I am however finding the overall guilt of moving to be overwhelming. It’s not even a guilt that I’m leaving so many people behind. I’m relatively certain that they’ll be fine without me. Rather, I feel guilty for not feeling more guilty about moving. Follow that one!

I’m leaving behind my father, mother, brother, countless friends, and memories. Though there are moments I quickly think something like “Oh, what will HE do about THAT situation without me?”, I quickly chase it away with the thought that everything will be fine. One of the friends that I told I was moving asked me if I’d miss him. I said yes.

I lied.

I’m not saying that my relationships that I currently have don’t matter. All of my relationships past and present have shaped me into the person that I am today. Independent. Determined. Straight up Crazy. I have many people to thank for their inspiration, but without even a second look back, I’m leaving them and I’m incredibly stoked.

Shouldn’t it be harder for me to leave behind my entire life? Shouldn’t I be able to say “I’ll Miss You” and mean it?

I can’t help but to feel that I don’t belong here. Though I’m surrounded by many friends and family, I feel misunderstood and often unwelcome. Granted, I’ve made my share of mistakes thus far, but is it really fair to feel unwelcome in your own life? Hell no.

Each time I tell someone that I’m leaving, I try to sound somewhat sad. I figure that’s how announcements of long-term moves go, right?

The Moving Girl tells her  family and friends she’s moving. Her family and friends try to get her to stay because they’ll miss her. She is touched by such attempts and one lonely tear runs down her face because she too will miss them. That tear is enough to make her decide to stay. She puts aside her own wants, to think of others. Moving girl never moves but always dreams of what life would be life if she did.

I can’t even muster up a tear when I tell people about my decision to relocate. In fact, I get self-aware and make sure I’m not cheesin’ too hard with my wide smile.

That said, I almost feel a little depressed at the thought that I’m not sad to leave anyone. Though my relationships are important to me, are they not “that” important? Have they lost their appeal to me because I don’t  find them fulfilling? If they’re so important, shouldn’t I spend some more time nurturing them?

I’ll probably spend the next few weeks thinking this situation into oblivion. I’m certain that the relationships that are strong enough will survive this test of distance.

I’m definite that I will.

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