Golden Pass panoramic route

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After an uncomfortable overnight flight in economy class, we landed in Zurich this morning and boarded a scenic train going west towards Geneva. We chose the Golden Pass panoramic route, which is definitely not the fastest route to Geneva, but the most scenic given its path that is literally through mountains, streams, little waterfalls, sleepy and snowy  mountain villages, and endless little ponds and big lakes.

Two years ago when we spent our Thanksgiving week in Germany, we did one of the most memorable museum visits I’ve ever done and went to the Miniatur Wunderland in Hamburg, which is the biggest model railroad in the world. Miniatur Wunderland has some of the most life-like models of different parts of the world, including Switzerland. The Switzerland exhibit depicts trains coming in and out of mountains and riding along the edges of them. It’s quite ominous when you watch the little miniature trains seemingly scaling mountains. But as I found out today, this depiction is 100 percent real and accurate. There were moments riding the train today when it felt like we were on the edge of mountains and any second, we could have slid off the tracks and fallen to our deaths. But no, this didn’t happen. The Swiss rails are reliable and incredibly safe, and we had the most beautiful views during our entire train ride, which lasted pretty much the entire day. After a while, we realized it was too silly to keep snapping photos, and we put our phones and cameras down and just enjoyed the views for what they were.

Oftentimes when you see photos of cities and countries in postcards, you often think that a lot of photo editing was probably done, especially when it comes to depictions of sunsets, sunrises, and mountains. With Switzerland, it seems that everything here is fitting of a “postcard” image. Riding along the Golden Pass train and walking through its cities and towns feels like you are going through a real life postcard, except you know that this is real life in front of your eyes, and this is not made up or Photoshopped. It’s just that gorgeous here.

Fear

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Shortly after the attacks in Paris, I read an article about how Madonna almost cancelled one of her concerts out of respect for those who were affected by the Paris attacks. Instead, she decided to move forward with the performance, stating that that is what the terrorists want us to do — stop performing, stop singing, stop going out to eat and dance and see theater and enjoy life. They want us to live in fear, she said, and that is not what we will do. We will move forward with our lives and enjoy life because we deserve that. I watched a video of her saying all this in stage, and she delivered this speech in the midst of tears and visible pain and empathy for Paris and all who died. It was really moving to watch.

She’s right. They want us to be afraid and stop living the lives we want. That’s why my mom told me to stop flying and going out at night. She is scared by the terrorism and is falling for what they want us to do. It’s okay to be afraid. But it’s not okay to let our fear paralyze us. A life lived in fear is really no life at all. I always think about the quote I used during my welcoming speech at my middle school commencement that Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “Always do what you are afraid to do.” We need to live the lives we want to live, not a life controlled by fear of others or forces out of our control.

Not to be morbid, but say one day I were to die during my travels or in flight somewhere. At least I would have died doing and experiencing something I loved.

Birthday brunch and babies

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Today, we went to my semi new friend’s birthday brunch, where we learned that she is four months pregnant with her second child, which will be a girl. At the brunch were a number of new parents with babies who were anywhere from two years to three- or four-months old. This was an adult brunch, so the babies were left at home with either their other parents or grandparents.

As I am about to enter my thirties, I realize that friends I inevitably will end up making will be pregnant, have children, and already be well past the stage of being single, or engaged and getting married and planning weddings. We sat at brunch and listened to three different parents discussing their lack of sleep, parenting and babies how-to books and the techniques they were learning. I tried to follow along and show interest, but the more I listened, the more ill I felt. Is this really my future — having babies and discussing over two hours the ins and outs of experimenting on different “get your baby to sleep quickly” methods? I sympathize with their lack of sleep and desire to seek advice and tips from the others. I think every parent needs some sort of official or unofficial support group to get through parenthood, especially when the babies are so young that they can’t communicate their feelings with you.

The funny and fitting thing was that when we came home, Chris turned on Everybody Loves Raymond, and the episode was when Debra and Raymond go out to celebrate an anniversary, and they realize they have absolutely nothing to talk about other than their kids. That’s really one of my absolute nightmares, that I will turn into one of those parents who can only talk about her kids. I even hear new parents say that and catch themselves blabbering on and on about their own kids. I admire even more parents who have young children and are able to keep an active social life and career and have opinions and activities outside of parenting and children. It’s literally a very, very full calendar for them.

Disagreements

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Tonight, a friend and I had a disagreement, which completely got blown out of proportion because we were lazy and decided to debate back and forth over text rather than just call each other and talk it out. Part of the reason for this was that I was in transit from one location to another and took the subway, so it would have been impossible for me to call her, but the longer the disagreement went on, the more ridiculous and futile I realized it was becoming. In the end, it all got resolved, but it just further proves how poorly tone comes across in writing rather than over voice or in person. We’re products of the technology age, though, so our laziness to not call each other is partially due to our heavy reliance on speaking through machines rather than being human beings and using our voices.

But the more I thought about it, the more I’ve realized that it’s not just technology that has made us more distant and prone to not understanding each other. It’s the fact that we rarely have deep discussions about really important topics, whether it’s current events, our opinions on life values, etc. It’s frustrating because then you realize that this person who you think is supposed to be close to you doesn’t really know you at all. And what is equally bad is that you don’t really know her, either.

I guess that’s why a lot of friendships don’t stand the test of time, especially when they may relocate and move to areas far away for work, family, or some other reason, and they meet other people and their lives and values evolve. We get sucked into the thought that we don’t have time to invest in the people who are not convenient for us to talk to or be near, and then gradually, friendships start fading away. We meet other people who are more in physical proximity to us who may be at similar life stages, and we end up bonding and growing with them instead.

I am lucky to say that I’ve had friendships that have lasted almost two decades, but I know people who are still best friends with their friends from age four or five. What I always wonder about them is how their friendships may have evolved. Maybe at age five, all you thought you wanted in a friend was someone to play tag with. Then at age ten, you wanted someone you could do math homework with and watch your favorite TV shows Then at age fourteen, you needed someone who was like your Siamese twin, who you thought knew all your darkest secrets and could even complete sentences for you. But at age nineteen, you’ve realized that your best friend who who you thought could be your best friend was “failing” at certain areas. Maybe she no longer knows all your deepest secrets. Maybe she doesn’t share your love of surfing or travel. Maybe she doesn’t know how to empathize with you when you share your family problems and she just tries to throw a blanket over it and say all families are dysfunctional and yours isn’t unique.

But then you meet someone else who does love surfing. You meet another person who listens to you when you are crying about that stupid argument you had with your mom and talks to you like she has gone through the exact same argument with her mom… except you know she definitely didn’t but just is able to convey a deeper understanding of you and your feelings. And that’s okay. Everyone you choose has a reason to be in your life and a different role to play. Not everyone can check off all the things you crave and need in a friend; in fact, no one probably ever will. But as long as they can check off at least a couple of them, then they can be a friend of some sort to you. And that’s enough.

We don’t seem to get this until after adolescence. Some people never get that. I’m still reminding myself this all the time. I wish I knew this when I was a teenager.

Mom’s take on terrorism

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I talked to my mom on the phone today, and she asked me if I was aware of the attacks that happened in Paris last week. Of course I know, I said. Everyone knows.

“You’re really lucky that it didn’t happen while you were there,” she said in an admonishing tone. “I’m telling you right now. It’s dangerous to be traveling.”

I reassured her that it didn’t matter where in the world I was because terrorism could happen anywhere, at any time and any place. And lo and behold, New York City has just received ISIS death threats! I had to add in that last part because, well, how can I not be where I live and work?!

“Yes, I know about New York,” she said. “That’s why I told you not to go anywhere at night! It’s dangerous! Just stay home!”

Yes, because terrorists would never think to be out and about, bombing and shooting random people in the morning or during business hours Monday through Friday. They have to wait until the evening when it is dark to start shooting and killing people.

I stopped responding. I need to get better at not responding and just nodding my head.

Quiet night

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Tonight has been a quiet night of eating, cooking, letter writing, and Christmas card making. I thought back to the last two Christmases when I didn’t make Christmas cards. Last year, I ran out of time since my dad suddenly had to get heart surgery, so I flew home to be with him. The year before that, I had no desire to make cards since Ed passed away just months before. I didn’t really have the desire to do much of anything then.

I wouldn’t say that things are “back to normal.” “Normal” is a weird word in itself, and the world will never be fully okay to me because he is gone. Sometimes when I am alone, I think about the deep loneliness he felt, and I wonder if I have ever felt even a fraction of the loneliness he experienced. My version of feeling lonely is probably nothing compared to his. My aunt used to tell me that there’s a big difference between being alone and being lonely. Ed was both most of the time. There was no separation of it for him.

I’m doing a lot of the same things again like card making and scrapbooking. I’m also doing new things like volunteering and mentoring since he died. I wonder what he thinks of my life now that he has left.

Radiologist

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I am not even 30 yet, yet I have seen a radiologist twice. This is either a sign that a) my gynecologist doesn’t know what she is doing, or b) I just exhibit psychosomatic symptoms. No one wants to see a radiologist. Not even radiologists want to see radiologists. I’d been experiencing weird discomfort in the left side of one of my breasts, and I expressed this to my gynecologist last week. So she had me make an appointment for a second ultrasound. The first one I had was just over two years ago, a few months after Ed passed away.

This time, I went through the same procedure again — filled out forms, explained my symptoms, undressed and put on a sad little gown, and then plopped myself on the examination table and had the assistant gel up my breasts. The assistant Jackie is very chatty with me about New York, weather, and life. But when she is scanning and taking imaging of my left breast, she stops speaking to me and just keeps taking photos on her screen. Her face is suddenly very serious. She cleans me up and says the doctor will be in with me shortly.

She comes back with the doctor, and the doctor discusses the symptoms with me and says I am completely fine. The discomfort I am feeling must be because of hormonal changes in my body, which really are just from getting older.

I didn’t think it was anything serious, but I felt relieved to get my cleared pass to leave and go on with my life. I was reminded of the time a former boyfriend told me about his friend in grad school who was really nervous about getting her first HIV test, and when she tested negative, she threw a huge “I Don’t Have HIV!” party for her friends and friends’ friends. I kind of wondered what it would be like to throw a “I Don’t Have Breast Cancer!” party for my friends.

Fundraiser appreciation gift

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This weekend, I was sent a fundraiser appreciation gift for the money I raised for AFSP’s Out of the Darkness Walks this year. Last year, I received a solar charger that I still have yet to open and use, and this year, I got a big, sturdy red hiking backpack that has multiple pieces. It looks like a really high quality backpack that could potentially be very useful for someone, but probably not me. I don’t go hiking that often, and when I do, I definitely would not want to carry around a backpack this large. I’ve been trying to give it away, but no one seems to want or need it.

I felt really spoiled staring at it today. It’s a really good backpack. I just don’t need it. Our apartment is small, and we already have so many things we don’t use. We have too many things because we are first world privileged snobs to the point where we get given things when we don’t need them and definitely don’t ask for them, and many times don’t use them. I don’t want to give it to Goodwill or even the secondhand shop near the apartment I usually donate things to because I don’t really want these things to be resold. This is brand new. I want it to go to someone who will really appreciate and use it. But who is that going to be?

Vegemite

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Tonight, Chris’s cousin’s friend came over for dinner, and we caught up over channa saag, chicken chalna, rice, Christmas pudding with brandy sauce, and wine. When Chris went to Australia for work in September, his cousin sent him back to New York with a container of vegemite for this friend, and so tonight, she got to take it home with her. I figured if she was sending it back to her friend through us that her friend must really like it. Needless to say, she was very excited when she saw the jar.

“Oh, wow! It’s vegemite!” She exclaimed, laughing. “I was just about to run out of my jar and got so worried!”

She truly is an Australian. She said that vegemite was a comfort food to her, on toast with butter. We have a little jar of it in our fridge, but it’s for guests, mainly. Chris never eats it and doesn’t really care for it. I won’t touch it unless I’m having breakfast at his parents’ house in Australia and there is brie cheese on the table.

#PrayForParis

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I was working from home yesterday afternoon when I found out that Paris was experiencing terrorist attacks in the very neighborhoods that we walked through just weeks ago. Innocent people going to sporting events, concerts, eating at restaurants were dying, and for those who were lucky enough to survive, they are likely to live with the intensity and paranoia of post-traumatic stress for the rest of their lives. We contacted Navine and her family to see if everyone she knew was all right, and luckily, they were. The saddest thing about doing that is that sure, perhaps Navine’s family and friends in Paris were fine, but that would mean that someone else’s family and friends were not fine and were dead or injured.

It was sickening to read the reports and see photos from the scenes. Every time a tragedy like this has happened, I get knots in my stomach. My insides feel hurt. I have moments when my eyes water, and I don’t really know what I am feeling. My sensitivity to pain, death, and loss has only intensified since losing Ed. Every time a shooting has happened, a terrorist attack, or a plane has unfortunately gone down in the last two years and I find out about it, the first thing I imagine is the reactions of the people who have died or lost the ones they love. How will they cope with this? How do you really go on with your life when such horrid tragedy so closely affects you? Life is hard, unfair, and cruel so many times. It’s a challenge to move forward some days.

I am sad and scared for the future sometimes. With the whole recent talks I’ve been having on children and procreation in general, I think that all of us (who’d like to be, anyway) as future potential parents want to bring children into a world of love and hope and safety. It is terrifying to think and see that this could potentially be their future, a world of terrorism, killings of innocent people in the supposed name of God, and random mass shootings everywhere.