Not Your Average Gal

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The Re-Entry Process & My New Intentions

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After nearly every international trip and cultural exchange, I go through this re-entry type-process back into my daily routine. It’s more than reverse culture shock, this is walking back into your routine with new a perspective, an appreciation for the things you have and a mental note of what’s truly important and needed in your life. In my post-vacation glow, I yearn to not get sucked back into my mundane routine of just “trying to get through the day.”

Cuba, oh you guys, Cuba taught me so much. Not that other countries and experiences haven’t, they all have offered their own, unique perspectives. But, Cuba…

I was without any sort of social media connection for 5 days. Lies. I signed into FitBit and used 3MB so I could join my weekly Workweek Hustle Challenge with friends because I knew I’d have tons of steps walking around Havana. Oh, and maybe I signed into FB once too. Basically, I just cost myself $14 for 7MB of data use in Cuba. Mad problems.

After 5 days, when I got back, I didn’t want to sift through hundreds of emails. I didn’t want to check into work. I didn’t want to see how many Likes something got. I had no desire to “keep up” with the daily trends because, guess what, I survived without it! The earth still revolved around the sun without me checking to see if a project I busted my ass for had client feedback yet.

I know this seems petty and perhaps super first world problems (although, I hate that phrase after traveling to more than a few third world countries), but the first step in addiction is admitting you have a problem, right?

I need to shift things around and it’s going to start right meow. 

Sometimes, after trips, I go through Facebook, Twitter and Instagram and unfollow anyone or anything that doesn’t add value to my life, doesn’t educate or motivate me in some way, shape or form. Additionally, I also seek out to learn more about the places I just set foot in, so I’ll follow those accounts.

But, I want to do something more and now is the time of year people start making resolutions. But here’s the thing, I’d rather not have them be resolutions, but be more-so like cutting the chord to shit that doesn’t represent me but just fills an empty void. 

Rip that mundane Band-Aid off. 

I’m riding Cloud 9 after an incredible vacation where I learned so much and I want to make sure it continues. So, here it goes.

Operation: Achieve Lifestyle Shift

 

Actually use my Rosetta Stone and improve my Spanish

I could not believe the Spanish that came out of the cobwebs of my brain while we were in Cuba. The same happened in Spain. My Spanish teachers would have been both proud (and maybe a bit embarrassed – conjugating is hard!) I want to ride this post-Cuba wave and really soak up the 2nd language that I know, at least well enough to hold a decent conversation.

Stop recording Bravo & MTV reality TV shows

This is perhaps, sadly, the biggest change for me. I updated my DVR settings and deleted reoccurring series. It was that simple. Some people are often surprised that I watch these mindless TV shows, but I do and I don’t want it to take up any of my time anymore. They are great for getting your mind off the day, but perhaps I should focus more on making sure I don’t need a day to get my mind off of?

Read more at night and/or in the morning

My sister gave me an actual book for Christmas. Like a book with a spine that you open up and can smell the pages. I have’t had one in years because of my Kindle. It’s been great! I want to learn more about Cuba’s history and Japan’s obsession with cats and Korea’s love/hate relationship with the US. They have these wonderful things called books for that!

Make my blog a top priority

Guess what takes a backseat when I get busy? Oh, that’s right, this here bloggy-poo. It’s so, so, so common amongst bloggers with full-time jobs. But if I ever hope to make a living off my writing or this site, I need to show more, do more and share more. Which leads me to the next item.

Do not feel chained to my desk

I rarely take a lunch break. In Q4, I rarely left before 7. As many people in marketing know, that’s the name of the game when the time calls, especially as a copywriter. But now it’s a new year and I’m going to make it a priority to have a better work/life balance and go eat my lunch at the damn beach at least once a week, okay?

Realize that people are sometimes just shitty people.

Stop trying to assign intentions to their behavior or make excuses for them. Some people are just self-centered and will somehow make the conversation about themselves. Some people are not really interested in listening to you. Some people will only talk, text, visit, call or write when it’s convenient for them. Some people are just hurt and behave like aholes. I need to accept this more and move on.

So, muchas gracias, Cuba! Here’s to a more intention-filled life.

Do you ever experience a reawakening after traveling? What about your New Year resolutions?

 

Cuba: Ready Or Not, Here We Come!

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As you know, I’m a pretty good little planner. I like having my ducks in a row when I travel. Not every moment of every trip planned, just documents ready, arrangements made and bags packed in Tetris-like fashion.

Cuba is probably the one country I’ve traveled to that having that planner personality is key. Except, of course, this the one time I haven’t exactly donned my Type-A hat.

Crap.

It’s been a crazy Q4 at work, absolutely the busiest, most exhausting time I’ve had at my job in the last 4 years. Combine that with traveling to see the hubster, family, a wedding and well…Cuba took a back seat.

Xanax, now please.

The following is an except from my brain currently:

Since our American credit and debit cards will not work in Cuba, we needed to figure out just how much cash to bring in order to exchange it. It took a lot of back and forth between the 4 of us on what we felt comfortable with based on conflicting information from friends and online. We didn’t want to be without cash (duh) but too much and it we’d be left with CUCs and no place to exchange them back.

You have to remember, Cuba is a third world country that still has sanctions against it from the US. Information seemingly changes weekly.

We knew we needed a tourist card (visa) that we could get at our boarding gate, but we heard just yesterday that we also needed medical insurance. Some places said to buy it separately and some places said to check your airline. Literally within the last 3 months, airlines now include your medical insurance fee with the cost of your flight. So as long as you have your boarding pass with you in Cuba, it serves as proof of medical insurance. Phew.

I still need to buy extra travel insurance, for my electronic valuables.

Which reminds me, I need to back up all my stuff: computer, iphone, photos, etc.

Which reminds me, I need to activate my SIM card.

But shit, AT&T still hasn’t sent me confirmation they’ve unlocked my phone!

SEE! I’m leaving in 2 days and still finalizing stuff for CUBA. This would be slightly better if I were heading to Japan or even Mexico, but Cuba feels like so much more because so little is known about American tourists there.

AH.

<insert Xanax now>

Do I pack that extra dress? (NO!)

Will my SIM work, will I have service in case of an emergency?

I heard the taxi drivers were on strike. How much would a taxi even cost?

I need to pack my protein bars so I don’t get hangry in case the customs line takes 2 hours like I’ve heard. Protecting my marriage and preventing hanger, go hand-in-hand.

Feliz Año Neuvo.

Feliz Año Neuvo.

Feliz Año Neuvo.

I promise myself I’m going to say Happy New Year in Spanish to someone while I’m there. Gotta talk myself into it.

I’ve printed enough maps and restaurants and monuments and emergency phone numbers to kill at least 3 trees.

We all got upgraded on our flight to Havana, so that’s exciting. I’m sure we’ll annoy half of first class with our giddy antics, but whatever, those people need to loosen up their bluetooth ear pieces anyway.

If we get upgraded on the way back, how will I know? No wi-fi. Do I have to wait in line at the airport. THE HORROR.

Girlfriends fly in today. Hubster flies in tomorrow. Nail appts made for tomorrow. Prosecco is ready in the fridge.

I think I’m good, right?

Right.

Oh, I haven’t seen the hubster in over a month. This is the longest we’ve ever gone without seeing each other.

Must make time for major make-out session. 

Adios, mis amigos!

Surviving The Holidays Alone

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The holidays are bittersweet for me. I try desperately to enjoy them and sometimes I’m successful. But, more often than not, they tend to be an annoying pebble in my shoe, reminding me with each step of where I seemingly fall on the totem pole.

I can’t remember the last time I spent Christmas or Thanksgiving with family in my own place — it must have been before college. Each holiday brings about another round of travel; if I’m not traveling to see family at their homes, I’m alone. The choice seems to be that “simple.” And, keeping it real, it sucks.

I know I’m not alone in feeling like that, I’ve talked to friends who seem to always have to be the “flexible ones” and leave their homes to visit others.

This year, since the hubster was working every night over Christmas, there wasn’t much of a point in me flying up to see him. With us traveling more to see each other, the logistics of another quick-turnaround-and-head-back trip to travel and see my family wasn’t in the cards. I’ve invited everyone down to Florida, the US mecca of warm vacations, but for some reason or another it never seems to work out. I try not to take it personally because sometimes it’s purely situational. But sometimes I’m left wondering how many times you invite people before you stop because it must be you because you smell or something?

*sniffs armpits*

The holidays have a way of doing that, you know? Problems are a bit magnified. Being alone or left out, you begin to question your own place in your family, your job, your life goals, your burrito from last night, your current choice in fuzzy socks; it can certainly suck you into the vortex of self-pity and doubt. It could have been you with your family, but it’s not, so you better suck it up and deal, chickadee.

So, for anyone else that finds themselves alone on the holidays, this is how I dealt with it.

Plan it all out. What you’re doing each day or what you’d like to accomplish, even if that is going to pick up a cornish hen, since that’s the only bird that’s just the right amount for a dinner for one. This was my day-by-day.

Christmas Eve Eve

Start the time off right — with a good, long walk.

Join the masses at the grocery store to buy your meal-for-one. Laugh with another lady who is deeply annoyed she’s cooking for 11 and show empathy by waving your cornish hen leg at her as you part ways.

Christmas Eve

Go to your friends’ house while they are away visiting family to take care of their kitties and then freak out because you can’t find the one cat that needs to get a pill. Then find her and laugh with her then realize you’re laughing with a cat and cry a little inside.

Go on a virtual date with the hubster and see the movie Passengers.

Spend Christmas Eve with your friend’s family. If you’re lucky, they’ll be Colombian and show you new (awesome) traditions.

Christmas Day

Head to kitty place again and decide that pussy can’t hide from you – success!

Workout on your new exercise bike and do crunches to prepare for the imminent dinner course.

Talk to your dad and step mom while they’re currently trying to get up an icy hill in Minnesota.

Open up the 2 gifts under your tree, one from your dad and one from your sister. Laugh at your husband who accidentally sent your gift to his current address, so you open up your (upcoming) birthday gift that he already sent instead.

New Tieks!!

 

Go to the pool in a Santa hat drinking a Bloody Mary.

FaceTime with your hubster and then the BFFs.

Then FaceTime your brother, sister-in-law and adorable niece who needed to show you all her (naked) Barbies. They were taking a bath, duh.

Call your sister who is also on her way to work in the ICU. (I can’t get away from you healthcare people!)

Make Buffalo Chicken Tater Tots, watch Bridget Jones’ Baby and hit the hay — Christmas is just another day.

Tots and prosecco.

 

Christmas Day (observed)

If you’re lucky, you get one more day off alone.

You crushed half those tots the night before, so hop on the bike again and do some more crunches.

The pool and Bloody Mary are calling your name again, this time lacking a typical Floridian afternoon downpour. Score!

Have kitty parents come over to pick up their house keys and spend some time laughing about how ridiculous med school and doctors are over a bottle o’ wine.

Clean.

Cornish Hen time! Whip up some mashed potatoes and broccoli too for good measure.

Print more shit out for your Cuban adventure and hit the hay — Christmas Day (observed) is just another day.

 

 

Basically, keep busy. I tried to just take care of myself and not let my mind wander. I’ll admit – there were some tears. It would have been great to have been around family, but I got through it and think I tried to make the best of it.

I also know the nay-sayers will wag their judging and unsupportive fingers saying things like, “This is what you signed up for being a doctor’s spouse.” or “I’d love to have a few days off on my own! Sheesh!” Thanks for your unhelpful input, I’ll be sure to write it down and burn it later.

And if that’s not inspiring, perhaps some kind words from JK Rowling will be. She shares many of the same sentiments about the holidays, but expresses it more eloquently than I can:

JK Rowling Christmas Message

Have you spent a holiday totally alone?

A Wedding & A Reminder

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I’m on my way home to Fort Lauderdale, sitting in the Sky Club on a layover in Atlanta. Heart happy. Belly sore from laughter. Tired as a shit, but full of appreciation.

My lounge game is strong lately. #skyclub

A photo posted by Caroline, Not Your Average Gal (@notaveragegal) on

My dear friend, whom I’ve known since middle school days, got married this weekend in Houston. We affectionally call him “Texas” because on his first day in middle school, he wore a cowboy hat. May I remind you I went to school in Michigan. Ah, that (now married to a gorgeous lady) guy.

It was a reunion of sorts with people flying in from all over.

I’ve known some of these guys since elementary school.

Went to high school and college with a bunch of these gals.

We danced to pop songs from the early 2000’s and sang I Want You Back by *NSync at the tops of our lungs. We talked about the funny things their children are saying and doing now. We shared heartache over aging parents and family health problems. We talked about how we’re going to head back to England for my 10-year wedding anniversary and effectively set the 7-year countdown. We talked about how difficult and lonely being a doctor’s wife can be. I really missed the hubster, who was stuck in the ICU working, this weekend.

We relived a bit of our once-carefree life, even if only for an evening. It was epically wonderful. I would never want to go back to those awkward middle school years, even college days, if I were being honest. But, man, being with people who know you, truly know you (and still keep you around) filled my heart with contentment.

I’m not sure I realized quite how much I needed that reminder. The reminder that I have good friends. That I am a good friend. That we have shared wonderful (and sometimes shitty) moments together. That no matter the time or distance, some things will never change and in my ever-changing world…it’s exactly what I needed.

There is a line in a graduation speech Baz Lurman gave  (Yes, the one that was made into a tacky 90’s-pop song) that still sticks with me to this day:

“Understand that friends come and go
But a precious few, who should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle
For as the older you get, the more you need the people
You knew when you were young.”

I’m so grateful to have that.

 

 

Pardon the lack of usually spectacular images; I wanted to spend my time making memories instead of lugging my digital camera around capturing them. I know you understand. :)

I’m Going To Cuba!

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You may remember, I contemplated going to Cuba last year on my first solo trip. While the US-Cuba traveling restrictions certainly improved, things were still a bit too unpredictable at that point with getting into Cuba that I didn’t feel confident in it. I knew it would ease up soon, but not soon enough for that trip.

So when we saw the regulations essentially lifted and US carriers now have the ability to fly to Cuba, I jumped at the chance to go with my two numbnut-travel gal pals AND the hubster. Yes, this timed perfectly with one of his few weeks off of work as a first year ER resident. Boo-yah.

So what do we do in the land of mojitos?

I have no idea.

Lies.

Travel Docs

Prior to boarding our flight, we must obtain a tourist card (should cost $25-50USD) which will specify what our itinerary is for the length of the stay and allow us to choose one of 12 reasons why we’re going. While I hear it’s not totally stringent, authority scares me, soooo I’ll be abiding by the rules. I need to carry my passport and tourist card with me at all times. The tourist card also serves as proof we have medical insurance too, since it is included in the fee to get one. We have a tour planned for nearly every day and an idea of what were doing for the days we’re not. This sort of stipulation doesn’t intimidate me much. When I traveled on a student visa while interning in the UK, there were similar obligations that needed to be met so I could stay longer than the normal 30-day tourist visa.

Accommodations

It’s a quick trip—5 days, 4 nights. I booked our flights through Delta. Yup, again, American carriers can now fly there. It’s a quick flight from where I live—1.5 hours to Cuban cigars and classic cars. We’re staying in Havana the whole time and doing a day trip to Las Terrazas for one morning and afternoon. I booked our stay through AirBnb because all decent hotels were already booked for New Years.

Oh yeah.

Minor detail. I’m going over New Years! We’ll say PISS OFF to 2016 and wholeheartedly welcome in 2017 on an island we were forbidden to be on as Americans a little less than 2 years ago.

Money

American credit cards still won’t work there, so you need to exchange money on arrival and pay for everything in Cuban Convertible Peso or CUC. Exchanging US Dollars incurs a lot more fees than other currencies, so we’ll be exchanging Euros to avoid those penalties. Ah, the benefits of having friends who travel for work all the time and are currently in Czech Republic.

Internet

From what I hear, there is very little internet, let alone Wi-Fi. So while the hubster is looking forward to disconnecting, I’m having a minor panic attack.

But how do I prove I’m in Cuba if I can’t check-in on Facebook!?

We actually need to print out maps or use that funny service we pay for called AAA and get maps! I need to make sure I have all the phone numbers I need because I can’t Google on the spot. My phone will be on roaming, so I’ll try to avoid it.

Actually, I’m sure it will be refreshing. I want to share with you how we booked our flights and landed our sweet AirBnb penthouse, but I’d like to actually get there and explore our laid-out itinerary before I offer it up as the best advice.

Can you pick up what I’m throwing down?

 

What are you most interested in seeing from a land that has not been overrun by American tourists yet?

The Loneliness Of An Injury

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Injuries, for me, are emotionally triggering. I’m not entirely sure I realized it until this last round of immobilization with my ankle.

As you may have read, here and here, I really did a # on my ankle over the summer. I honestly thought I just twisted it the first time, which is common for me to do since this ankle, as you’ll read, is known to give out from years of trauma. The second time I hurt it, I knew I did something worse when even after a few weeks, it just didn’t feel right.

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A trip to the orthopedic surgeon and then an MRI told me some pretty shitty news.

  • 2 torn ligaments
  • 1 partially torn ligament
  • 1 compression fracture

(And I had been walking around on it for a month. Yeaaaah, if I’m ever accused of being a baby with pain, you’ll know that they must be talking about someone else.)

Turns out, injuring my ankle and feeling alone afterwards aren’t mutually exclusive things.

High School

I originally broke my ankle in high school while playing soccer. I can still hear it pop. YOWZERS. (God, what an underused word.) I was rolled into a nurses office on an office chair, because I couldn’t walk, by an older junior or senior guy and of course, it had to be between classes so everyone and their mother was in the hallway. Ugh. The things you remember, right?

The nurse called my mom to tell her I needed to go to the hospital and all I can really remember was what an inconvenience it was. In fact, over the next couple weeks, it was cemented what a pain in the ass I was for being injured. Having to be taken to the hospital. Having to be on bed rest for the first week all alone during the day. Then having to be driven to school early because it took me longer to get to class.

Let’s just say I was happy to get that friggin’ cast off.

I re-injured my ankle a couple more times by either rolling it or playing soccer in college. I never got PT after my first injury so I’m not sure I ever strengthened it properly.

It was perfectly aligned for another injury.

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Being immobile means my selfie game is strong.

College

Like the one I got on winter break in college while tubing (In the snow, y’all. The SNOW.) Basically, a friend came down the hill on his tube, barreled into me and my ankle rolled and that same bone I injured in high school…snapped.

I was in the middle of nowhere Michigan and I called my dad to ask about my insurance to go to the ER. He lived in Chicago and was annoyed with my mom, who lived in Michigan, for not driving up to help me. Man, what a pain in the ass this ankle is, I tell ya’. So back to, you know, getting help. I found my way to an ER thanks to friends and the doc told me I needed to get that bone fixed, with surgery. He threw me in an Aircast and recommended a hospital near where I lived at Michigan State University.

Basically, it was a bone spur that kept snapping each time I rolled my ankle and if we took out the part that kept breaking off…viola. Simple enough, right?

I must have scheduled this surgery for a shitty time because no parental unit could join me. To my Dad’s defense, he did live in another state. I remember my best friend volunteering to drive me to the hospital and feeling like such an inconvenience.

We both looked at each other when the doctor asked us both to sign papers “in case anything went wrong” in surgery. We were 22! 22-year-olds that sort of shrugged and laughed about it. But it hurt for me.

She was a trooper though. When I refused to take the Vicodin the nurse wanted me to take before leaving, she told me she’d stick by my side if anything weird happened. (I had never taken pain meds like that.) She eventually ended up helping me sign my name at the pharmacy when I picked up my prescription because I had no idea what universe I was in.

Then I went home and laid on my bed. Alone. That familiar place. I ended up getting really sick that week too. To add insult to literal injury—a double ear infection and sinus infection. I had to have a roommate drive my hobbling ass to the student medical center to get my meds. I remember calling my mom crying about how crappy I felt. I was told I could drive home if I wanted help…

Injuries aren’t for the faint of heart, you guys.

Since then I’ve rolled my ankle a couple times, but the surgery, all in all, did its job. No more broken bones. I have a weird bone spur that sticks out, that my new orthopedic surgeon desperately wants to shave down, but it hasn’t given me too much grief.

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Need some entertainment if I’m on bedrest, am I right?

Present Day

So when my doctor told me 3 weeks ago, “You’re not going to be happy.” when she read the MRI results. I was pretty surprised.

Then she unwittingly hit me in the jugular.

“So I’m putting you in a hard cast. You’re going to be immobile for the next 6-8 weeks. Non-weight bearing, no driving, no flying and ideally on bedrest for as much as you can. Who do you have to help you?”

“No one.”

“What do you mean?”

“My husband is 1500 miles away doing his ER residency. My family, collectively lives in 3 separate states. I live alone. I’m alone.”

“Well do you have neighbors or coworkers or friends who can help you? Drive you everywhere?”

“I mean, I do, but that’s a lot to ask and it’s not like it’s a once-in-a-while thing. It’s for up to 8 weeks…”

She could sense my sadness perhaps. She told me if I wanted to, I could fly to Michigan, get a cast there and recover there for 8 weeks, if that’s where my husband was. With all the changes going on in my office and it being busy season as a marketing firm, I knew that wasn’t possible. I also needed to talk to my boss about it.

Thoughts, options, and plans were flowing through my head, but the overwhelming feeling was that I was just utterly alone. That same feeling came rushing back.

She asked me to call my husband so she could talk to him doctor-to-doctor and he could fully understand the predicament. Then she left me alone to talk to him and I successfully held back tears. He agreed with me that staying Florida was the much more efficient and better option, just not for having help.

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So I took the weekend after that appointment to prepare for impending immobilization. Stocked up on food essentials, assembled my sweet, new knee scooter, moved floor rugs around so I could scoots freely, made essential items more accessible, got Uber coupons ready, put things in my fridge closer to the front so I didn’t have to do a unique one-legged yoga move to grab it…

Then, the best thing happened.

Help.

  • My coworker overheard me talking to my boss, who was more than accommodating about the situation (such a good guy) and she told me she could drive me in the mornings to work. Then another coworker said, “CP. I can take you home.”
  • A friend from elementary school set up a meal train for me online and dear friends, some I haven’t seen in yearrrrrs, donated so I could have items delivered to my house.
  • My dad keeps calling and texting me to see how I am doing. He even sent me a picture today of the soccer game he was at and told me how much it reminded him of me. *tear*
  • My brother and sister-in-law sent me sweet upgrades for my scooter, as well as a Spice Girls DVD and pizza gift card. Hello, Friday nights in!
  • The hubster flew in last weekend to help me out and run errands with me, even sit on the beach while I yearn for the day in a few weeks that I can go in the ocean again.
  • Coworkers and friends sent me Uber/Lyft coupons, Blue Apron coupons and Hello Fresh coupons.
  • A friend drove me to pick up my pain meds and handicap parking pass.

It made me a bit uncomfortable. In fact, this entire process makes me uncomfortable, the whole asking for help thing. I’m vulnerable and don’t like it.

There are still moments that I cry and I get frustrated that I can’t do something as quickly as I once could and there is no one around to help me at my house.

But guess what? When I got over it and actually admitted the whole thing was shitty, some pretty awesome people came through. So even if I’m sitting in my bed typing this, and I haven’t seen another human being in 48 hours besides the delivery guys, I’m feeling pretty okay.

Processed with Snapseed.

Pretty non-lonely.

I’ve come from a place of feeling like a nuisance, to being fiercely independent because of it and then eventually waving the white flag and admitting I was in a shit situation and needed help. I’m thankful for the change and relieved to not be let down.

Being vulnerable isn’t easy. You risk being hurt again. I’m so grateful that’s not the case this time.

Only 4 more weeks in a cast. 2 more weeks in a walking boot. And however many weeks of PT left.

Bring it on.

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Beep beep.