I am the proud owner of a 2002, science green, Volkswagen Polo. This is strange for several reasons. The most obviously abnormality of this situation is that the car is 'science green' as apposed to black. Cars should only be black, or at least the ones I own. While I do love my car and I specifically wanted a Volkswagen, the shape of my car resembles a space pod. It is slanted at the front, gradually increasing in bubble shape as you move towards the body of the car and finishing with a sharp cut off, making the end almost squared. It reminds me of the ship in the '84 classic Flight of the Navigator. But what throws me off the most every time I think about my new car is that it is a POLO. A Polo is not even a car that exists in America. Everything about it from the colour, to the interior (which is mutil-coloured spots on grey cloth) to the design is the complete opposite of a car I would ever buy in the States. It is even more confirmation that the life I am living now is completely different to anything I have ever known.
A totally different life stage. Not that buying a car is the only confirmation of this. Things like living with a boy, cooking meals every night (well the boy cooks most of the time), walking everywhere I need to go, riding the train to work, having my accent stand out, seeing Big Ben and Westminster Abbey on almost a daily basis....these are all signs that this is quite a different life stage. I have always been a fan of recognizing my 'life stages'. It is a very helpful way to put things in perspective and be able to approach life with a healthy, realistic outlook. That said, sometimes claiming 'life stage' was a way to hide behind, or hide completely, a time or situation that was negative, embarrassing, hurtful or otherwise better left untouched. It should also be noted that rarely can it be said of me that I am realistic. Nevertheless, I found it helpful to evaluate and analyze what I felt my particular stage in life was and how to progress from there.
I have always considered myself to be an 'external processor' I just feel the need to talk things out, be honest about all situations, feelings, thoughts, emotions, etc...This was my policy for years! Eventually, when some situations became a little tougher and out of the ordinary, people didn't stop listening or caring, they just started judging as well. Some in more overt ways than others, but the majority of people began to judge. The looks, the small whispers to one another when I would make any generic comment, the questioning of my ability to do even the most basic of tasks if they were in a religious or academic field. It got too much. and I stopped talking. But situations still came and went, some lingering longer than others, and I kept it all inside. Some good, and some very bad, things happened. My reasoning for not getting it out was I was tired of being judged and my 'life stage' of being surrounded by a tight knit community had passed. Now was the stage of more independence and maturity. A time to figure it out on my own.
I made some stupid choices in that stage. I didn't turn to anyone, but then again, no one judged. Its a cyclical pattern it is. You can choose to be open and risk what may come, or keep it in and again, risk what may come. As a result of some recent developments in this particular stage of my life, my recent car purchase included, I have decided that regardless of consequences, part of my personality is just putting it all out there. I like to talk, write, think, paint, run, collage--whatever I feel will express my emotion of the moment. I no longer feel like keeping it inside. So enter my blog. I am not even sure if any one has even read this, but putting it all out there on my blog is my current form of processing verbally. And I like that idea a lot.
So my current life stage is this: a wonderful husband, a tiny, hideously painted one bedroom flat, rugby filled weekends, a great little Chinese take-away a five minute walk away, the Notting Hill open air market, learning what makes my husband laugh, enough rain in one day to last a life time, long hours on a train, drinks in Soho, shopping on Oxford street, Tesco instead of Wal-Mart, fancy business men running with their briefcases and women running in heels to make sure they catch the right train, a giant weeping willow outside my window, only one American friend, a blackberry I use all the time, trying to learn enough Welsh words so that I can train myself to think those words first, skinny jeans (on other people), ballet flats almost everyday, long necklaces, always wearing flip flops to the pitch, beer in pints, getting to know about my great group of new friends and, of course, my 2002 science green polo.