Melissa's Travels

I've always been mesmerized by the days that wind up unfolding in ways I never predicted. This could be because I'm a total control freak and the fact that I can find joy in a moment that went against my plans is a miracle. It could also be because I've always been a sucker for a good story and unpredictable days inevitably hold the ingredients for a great tale. Last night certainly fit this description. Considering that it's 6:16 in the morning and I've been pushing through a state of sleep deprivation for days, I'm probably not well equipped to relay a captivating account of the night's events. However, I'm trying to ring in Daylight Savings Time by staying up until the sun rises and continuing to ignore my body's demands for sleep seems appropriate as well as a great invitation to get on with the writing, press on with the story telling.

Before I even launch into the details of tonight I have to tell you how the entire day began. I awoke at 6am to the devastating realization that I was dehydrated, exhausted and riddled with anxiety. My head was performing its own version of "Ring Around the Rosies," with no end in sight and my hands were numb. With an 8 hour training ahead of me, that I would be largely responsible for leading, the day wasn't looking good. After consuming large amounts of gatorade and taking a power nap on the bus I was able to muster up a couple of ounces of energy (and a stop by Cafe Ladro certainly helped). However, it was the sights and sounds of Seattle blooming this Saturday morning that really brought the day to life. Even though my feet were dragging and my eyes desperately fought the urge to close, I found my soul awakening and whispering to my body that despite the undeniable fatigue I was excited to be awake this morning, experiencing this world. It was seeing visitors to Seattle congregating outside the Green Tortise hostel, others heading to Pike Place as it opened and the street cleaners hard at work blasting the sidewalks free of debris (which always reminds me of Madrid) that woke me today. And I'm certain it was these unexpected sites that encouraged me to embrace my training with an open mind and feelings of optimism that I would survive the day and walk away with new knowledge.

Following my long day of training and a much needed nap, it was time to convene with my friends and head to a birthday celebration. I was beyond disappointed to learn that the three girls I was meeting up with were less than enthusiastic about heading downtown. Their couches and beds were far more alluring than the dance floors of Seattle this evening and it was purely because of their duties to be good friends that they joined me in going downtown. Considering that I now have less than two weeks until my three month vacation from Seattle and all my friends I'm finding myself more than happy to sacrifice sleep to socialize and I have no sympathy for anyone who wants to stay home on a Saturday night perfectly fit for dancing. Disappointed in my friend's low spirits I headed off to Capital Hill with them in tow. After a frustrating, time consuming parking situation (thankfully interspersed with giggle inducing moments as well) we were headed into the Garage. The Birthday boy had intentions of setting me up with his coworker and it was this thought that swum through my mind the instant we entered the door as well as prompted my quick retreat to the bar for drinks. Since I'll be leaving for Spain soon it really feels like it's in my best interests to steer clear of boys. The last thing I want to is spend my last week and a half becoming entangled in some romantic interest that's going to keep me from fully immersing myself into Spanish life when I'm abroad. I think part of me secretly hopes that I'll encounter the love of my life before I go. Maybe I want a challenge? A reason for it to be even more difficult to tear myself away? Perhaps I like the storybook idea of being kissed goodbye at the airport and the tearful, melodramatic farewell. Nevertheless, it was was easy for me to realize tonight that my aspirations to fall in love before I depart are foolish and need to be discarded. Thankfully one of my girlfriends was willing to take the potential temptation into her own care and I was left to prance through the night unattached.

The night soon took us to the War room where too much time was spent waiting in line for the bathroom. When your dance floor is overflowing it is more than necessary to have more than two stalls in the women's bathroom. However, the long lines haven't prompted any remodeling of the restrooms and I certainly don't think this highly inconvenient situation is dissuading anyone from shelling out $10 to dance the night away to the incredible music that blares from the speakers. There were brief talks with new acquaintances about the purpose of religion in my life. I always stumble through trying to articulate and justify my religious beliefs. Spirituality by definition can't really be encapsulated in words and that's what makes it so mysterious and powerful. Moreover, I struggle with trying to provide another person with a glimpse into my world that will "convince" them of the place and purpose of religion. My entire life I've felt the presence of something bigger than me in this world and if someone else hasn't moved through the world with these same feelings, I'm quick to give up on the conversation. Its like explaining to someone who was born without a sense of smell what its like to smell freshly cut grass or a saltwater breeze. When you've never had it, how can you even believe it exists?

An hour or two of dancing later my formerly burnt out friends had found their second wind and were ready to head to an after hours club. Heading up Broadway, linked arm in arm with one of my girlfriends seemed like a perfect time to resurrect my fondness for the Beatles song, "Yesterday." We belted out the lyrics in perfect unison and although it didn't compare to singing this same song while parading down Las Ramblas (as we had three years ago), it was nonetheless enjoyable. After arriving downtown and discovering the steep cover charge for the club, I suggested we meander over to the International District (always a safe choice at 2am). Feigning confidence in the location of our destination, I led us on a 30 minute walk to my favorite Chinese Food establishment, Purple Dot. The steaming tea was more than satisfying after the long walk sans jackets and the fried rice was to die for. We chatted for hours over chow mein and Mongolian beef and once our bellies were full it was time to search for a cab home. I tried my hardest to convince everyone of the fun that could be had by staying down on the waterfront and grabbing Starbucks as the sun came up. Despite my skills at persuasion, no one seemed to share my enthusiasm for wandering Seattle with the homeless population for the last remaining hours of the night and awaiting the rising of the sun.

I had many preconceived expectations for last night. I'd daydreamed about the guys I might meet and the adventures we'd have before my departure for Spain. I'd worried about my night being cut short by my party pooper friends. I'd even considered that I might join my friends in choosing to retire early in the night so that I could awake early on Sunday morning. However, staying up until 7am never fit in to any of my plans for how the night would ensue. Especially staying up this late sober, listening to KT Tunstall and writing. It seems like every experience I've had over the past several weeks has been designed to leave me with a piece of wisdom that I can take with me to Spain. When I arrive in Alicante in two weeks, I hope I'm ready to embrace my journey with an open-mind, prepared for nights that may or may not carry me into the next morning and for meeting new people that will certainly change my current notions about humanity.