Onward and Upward

For some reason in India that became the phrase of choice for me, cliche but oddly satisfying. I usually said it as we hoisted heavy back packs on after night of too little sleep or a day of far too much bus-riding. I also said it a lot as a means of deflecting well-meant expressions of condolences when people I lived with asked how my day was going and were unlucky enough to hear about my latest misadventure.

Its a really silly and trite phrase in a lot of ways but it also seemed to get me through and past a lot of moments of self-pity and other stupid selfishness.

Tonight, coming off a hellish week, a crazy weekend of travel and too little time in the mile-high city I find myself using it again.

Onward and upward, for it only gets better, easier or more joyful the more I keep trudging on and learn to enjoy all the craziness and questions and stress and unknowns that come my way.

Its a hell of a lot longer journey than the 12 hour (with food poisening) bus journey to Delhi was that last inspired the use of my tired phrase but it sort of makes me happy in a way. Its not a phrase to be used when fate is known and things are standing still, only when there is still more adventure to be had, more things to learn and more things to endure for goals and hopes and dreams that are always worth the struggle.

In the District

So a post on the new digs is probably a bit overdue.

Its strange starting over again, in my third new city in 6 months, this time without the same sense of immediate awesome company as the last two. To be fair, I think this is probably a city completely filled to the brim with awesome people, its just the first time in six months I'm not sharing a bed with said awesomeness. (a shortage of beds in India definitely made nightmares less scary-except I guess for my bedmate who I repeatedly jumped on unfortunately)

Starting over again, learning a lot of names and faces and hoping some of them will stick around long enough for coffee dates and late nights on the town and the amazing DC tradition that is brunch (You know you're probably in the right place when your favorite meal is the whole district's favorite meal)

Its an odd mix of amazingness in the day and longing in the night. Of wanting to find my new favorite corner coffee shop, my new favorite run, and at the same time, wanting to run back to the old ones. A mix of alluding to the ones I love with those I've just met and talking about the ones I've just met with the ones I love. Wanting to put down roots and put posters on the walls and simultaneously wondering where and when I'll be packing my stuff up to move next.

The bittersweet bits of great change I guess