September 22, 2007

• Goodbye, Sweet Scotland.

  Last day in Scotland. Tomorrow, early, we are on a flight to NYC to secure an apartment. Wednesday we will be in the cradle of our hometown, at rest. In a fortnight my mom will be married. Soon after, on October 10, I will start my new job.

  I am alternately weeping and angry and overjoyed. And in typical ChicagoArtGirl23 fashion, my skin has betrayed me. Words are not enough to express my feelings during this transition – my body must push out any remaining emotional scraps through my sad, abused pores.

  This year had been the most beautiful, hideous, amazing, adventure of my life. It has changed me and made me think and created something new in me. I’ve unearthed so many treasures here, so many shiny things. Not every day was good; creating a life in another country is hard work. Trying to accomplish the simplest task can exhaust you; can leave you wondering if you have the stamina to keep going. No, not everyday was good, but every single day was fantastically interesting. And perhaps that is the most important lesson that was articulated for me here: Interesting trumps Good every time. I wouldn’t trade our oftentimes-scrappy year here for all the security and comfort in the world.

  Thursday was my last day of work. My leaving party was at one of Glasgow’s most delicious restaurants: Gandolfi. There, with the glow of candlelight and merlot softening the world, I got teary eyed and proposed a toast to my crazy, beautiful colleagues. We work together, sure, but we were also friends. We hung out together; we went to the pub and to film festivals and to birthday parties and movies together. We were a part of each other’s life in a way that took me by surprise.

  When I first began that job, morale was at an all time low due to change in directorship and the daunting task of programming a nationwide festival without any semblance of leadership. And the culture was so different! Phone calls ended with, “Cheers! Thanks! Bye” before the phone was slammed down with a “What a Load of Rubbish!” or a “What a Steaming Pile of Shite!” or an “Utter Bullocks!” It was an office of Australians, English, Scottish, Irish people with me as the token American in the organization. They learned that I wasn’t a gun-toting cowgirl and I learned to laugh at and love their colloquial vulgarities. We all got along and became family, especially as we were all huddled together working 80 weeks during the main festival period. Some teams would fall apart under that type of stress; we got slaphappy, rolled with it, and had a good time. I was lucky to fall in with such a great group of people. I will miss them always.

  Our friends made through Glasgow University also came as a surprise. School friends these were not: these are the kind of people that let you stay in their apartment rent-free for three weeks between leaving this country and moving back home. These are the kind of people who you talk about life with, who you stay up all night playing board games with, who become a part of your everyday, who you wish as much good for as you do your own family.

  I can’t believe we are leaving the one place that we’ve ever truly fit in at. But perhaps we fit in because of what living here has taught us, of how much we’ve grown here. I notice it in Shaun more than myself, probably because as self-aware as I try to be, it is always easier to see change in someone else.

  Shaun has gone from being the quiet guy, who you know is super smart, but whose hilarity comes as a complete surprise, to the guy at the center of the table, holding court. He’s become a master of reading his work aloud, of marketing his work. He’s more confident than I’ve ever seen him, he is how he is when at rest or among his closest friends all the time now. It is a beautiful metamorphosis. It makes me smile to see him being himself more often.

  I think that this year out, spent nurturing our curiosity, finding ourselves in so many situations that you just can’t help but to grow in, has changed us. Made us more us. And we have to keep this momentum going; it’s taken us across an entire ocean so far. And as sad as I am to leave this place, I am eager to see where the momentum takes us next.
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  How were you feeling the last time you overhauled your life?

  • 8:40 am
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