Sputnik Sweetheart

*** I found myself wishing I’d kept all my wildly different “about” pages over the years.  So this time I decided, rather than delete forever, I’m keeping them on hand.

I started this blog, and went through various url’s, about 5-6 years ago, in 2002 or 3. Maybe more. Renee-Chronicles. Orange Rhymes (the first time around). World Before Columbus. Postcards From Prague.  Prague is Over. (Due to changes and breakups and new relationships, I’ve felt a need to dart around. I considered quitting, but that’s like giving up crack. I imagine. I’ve never actually tried crack. Though I’m sure that would be a lot harder to give up.) I have, however, removed most of the old posts – at least, the past life posts that were laying around like a stinking, rotting corpse. Fascinating though they are, they’re no longer pertinent nor welcome here.

The whole blooooooooooog thing started when I got the brilliant idea in my head to do something I’ve always dreamed about – move overseas, to Europe.

My first few posts were about Italy, because that’s what I’d gotten stuck in my head.  Not sure why, because I don’t have a particular attachment to Italy, and Holland is my first love.  I suppose the idea of drinking espresso while learning Italian on the back of a moped sounded terribly romantic to me.  “Romantic” as in ideal.  Something to write home about.

I did not wind up going to Italy, but when I was 28, I did indeed move to Europe. May of 2004. I lived in Prague, Czech Republic, for 3 years and returned to the States in July ‘07 to get my finances (and myself) in order, while deciding where to run off to next.  (Note: Notice that’s CZECH REPUBLIC, not CZECHOSLOVAKIA.  Stop it people, the Velvet Divorce happened on Jan 1, 1993.  That means Czech Republic and Slovakia.  If I hear you say Czechoslovakia, I’ll slap you.)

And yes, mluvím česky.  Er, I did, anyway.  For almost the entire first year back in the States, Czech kept slipping out of my mouth. Jo instead of yes/yeah.  Co? instead of what? Fakt, jo? instead of Really? And to this day I still catch myself spelling yogurt as jogurt. There’d been a point where I was starting to dream in Czech, while living there, as well.  However, unlike Spanish which I can use and read and speak occasionally, when the hell will I ever use Czech here in LA?  Other than to write emails to my Czech friends, who much prefer to practice their English.  So, ask me again in another year if I remember a thing in Czech.  Tak.

I was a modern day gypsy of sorts and now, at the ripe old age of 33, I find that the biggest adventure is in learning how to stay still.

I had moved to Prague with the person who was my boyfriend at the time, but that’s not even worth mentioning anymore. It was the best of times (not really), it was the worst of times (most definitely). After almost 7 years, we broke up, I stayed in Prague a little while longer, then moved on.  It was the kind of relationship, the kind of breakup where you never ever ever want to speak to them again.  And even that would be too soon.

(A little back story on my moving to Prague here.)

I came back to The States, thinking it would be a pit stop before flying off to Southeast Asia or South America. I thought maybe I’d even stay for a year and finish out the degree I’d been working on for 10 years, and then go off to somewhere across the ocean.  I was pretty sure I’d never come back here to live. The world was calling.

Never say never.

How handsome is he?

Instead, I became entangled in another romance, some love at first sight, and found myself jetting off to Los Angeles.  If you ask me, I’ll tell you that Los Angeles is, in some ways, a bigger culture shock than Prague was.  Then again, I hit LA as I was still readjusting to The States in general, so that could have something to do with it.  (The story of how/why I moved to LA is a fabulous story that I will never tire of telling.)

I am a purist.  I make everything from scratch (or try to.)  I’m a nazi about allowing processed foods into the house.  I only drink water, coffee, and wine.  Well, that’s not entirely true – sometimes I drink Irish Whiskey, if I’m in a mood.  I adore dark chocolate (the real stuff, the minimum 85% stuff) and real butter.

I don’t do “chick flicks” and roses and diamonds.  I do motorcycle boots and action/spy thrillers and tattoos and piercings in places my mom doesn’t know about, although she suspects.

I’m a neurotic, I have, ahem, “intimacy issues,” I love going to therapists, and I’m a recovering vegetarian. I recently ate my first oyster.  I’ve had quite a few nibbles of red meat after not touching the stuff for 20+ years.  I blame Anthony Bourdain.

Being a vegetarian has absolutely nothing to do with any of those other things.

I also hate having my picture taking and almost always make faces.  I’m told that I don’t look the same in any two pictures. (As evidenced here.)

By day, I used to be a full time web developer and trainer. By travel, I was a full time EFL Teacher.  Now I play concubine in between freelance and volunteer gigs, while trying to motivate myself to go to pilates classes and runs on the beach.

My attitudes and opinions change daily, so please don’t try to nail me to the facts. I like to smoke while jogging, sip martinis with my brown rice, and skim Shakespeare while watching reruns of “Roseanne.”

And there ya have it.

In lieu of “100 Things,” A Questionnaire:

Occupation: Web Technologies Instructor / Front End Web Developer (notice I don’t say designer) / Idealist

Languages: I can be polite and/or curse in about 10 languages. I studied Spanish for 4 years, I studied Czech for 3, and I’m hoping to start Japanese one of these days.  Cursing in Czech is so very satisfying.

The word or phrase that best describes my personality: I’ve heard the word “free spirit” more times than I can count in the past few years. I don’t think I’m so much a “free spirit” as I am restless and fickle. I also hear the words “difficult” and “complicated” quite a bit.  The mental health professionals call me complex.  Guilty as charged and just a little proud of the “complex” label.

The best or worst lie I’ve ever told: When I was little, I told my babysitter that Mark Hamill was a friend of our family and sometimes came over for dinner.  She actually believed me until my Mom went blew that lie wide open.

My most humbling moment: Learning how to ask for help.

The last thing that made me laugh out loud: An episode of House.  A man came in who’d had a stroke and also just happened to be “too nice.”  House slammed his cane down on the guy’s foot to see if he’d get a reaction.  The man flinched but calmly said to his wife, “It’s ok, honey.  He’s probably just trying to prove a point.”  House said, “Is this guy Canadian?”

If I could be anywhere right now: This answer changes every minute.  On the beach.  On a train crossing a continent.  Running through the streets of Lisbon.  Learning Spanish in Mexico.  Visiting friends in Prague. In bed.

My beloved Holland

Also quite beloved: Portugal

If I was given a million dollars: I’d give a third to my parents, a third to Boyfriend, and put a third into savings.  I’d take a little to buy Le Creuset cookware. A bread maker. A pasta maker. High quality pots & pans… to satisfy my inner domestic goddess. Maybe splurge on a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine, just to see if there really is a difference…

Five items I can’t live without: My passport, good coffee, an escape route, my iPod, The Boyfriend (not in that order)

25 years from now, I see myself: Imagining that would require some sort of planning or vision on my part.  I don’t do “plans.” Asking me to decide on a plan is a surefire way to get me to back out of it at the last minute.

My personal motto or creed: It’s better to regret the things you did do than the ones you didn’t.

In my refrigerator one will find: Butter. Lots and lots of butter. The full-fat, unsalted, European kind.  An abundant supply of half & half and greek yogurt. Leftovers.  Turkey bacon. At least 3 kinds of cheese.

My favorite way to spend a weekend: I like my weekends to be completely unplanned.  Wake up when you feel like it and play it by ear.  So what if you decide to take a road trip at 2 in the afternoon?

If I could take a class on any subject, it would be: Another art history class.  Japanese.  Mandarin.  Hip-hop dance.  How to properly use my kick-ass dslr camera.  Or Contemporary fiction.  God, I miss writing essays.  Seriously.

The best movie I saw this year

I have an addiction to graphic novels made into movies and cheesy sci-fi/fantasy stuff. It’s the geek in me. Think Underworld, 30 Days of Night, etc. One of my favorite movies ever is Night Watch, Day Watch, and the coming-soon last of the trilogy, Twilight Watch.  Ok, so maybe that doesn’t count as “this year” – whateva.  Death Race was a lot of hokey fun.  The new Bond movies are fab.  Vicki Cristina Barcelona was lush and beautiful and heartbreaking.

Shows I Tivo (or would)?

Honestly, I don’t watch that much tv. Ok, maybe that’s not entirely true. I can just see him smirking at me. I crave Law & Order: SVU, daily. (Good thing it seems to be on daily.) I’m OBSESSED with House.  I like Top Chef, and the biggest piece of trash I’ve ever continued to watch is Nip/Tuck.

Favorite movie scene

You know that scene in Lost in Translation, when Bill Murray slips the note under Scarlett’s door that says, “Are you awake?” Gets me every time.  Completely spontaneous.  Sweet.  Romantic.