MOON

It’s the third day of the new year!! HAPPY! HAPPY! HAPPY NEW YEAR!! 2011 (it's the year of robots!!) seems so far ahead in the future, and considering how I spent it in Guam, where America's day begins, that's no real big surprise. 

I’ve been meaning to write this post – amongst others – for a while now. About a month ago – a month!? Already!? – I “watched” (was also hanging out with friends with no attention spans for movies) Moon, starring Sam Rockwell and Sam Rockwell (who does a GREAT job!! and I love that he loves Sci-Fi). It was pretty incredible – the parts that I caught, at least. My only qualm with the movie was its poor soundtrack, which I found a bit appalling considering that the director’s father is David Bowie. Hello! Your father and space are pretty much synonymous and a bunch of bleeps and bloops is all you came up with to score the piece? Slightly disappointing, but again, the music wasn’t the only aspect of the movie, and the story held up on its own – as in any other Sci-Fi movie, you must give into the suspension of disbelief and take everything as it’s presented (a friend of mine was having a troubled time trying to grasp at certain concepts of the film). Completely unrelated in terms of Papa Bowie, but I also kept waiting for a giant fetus floating through space; a monolith; and a psychotic computer, but it was a no-go on all three fronts. Anyway, so yes, it is an enjoyable, exciting and gasp-able movie, but that’s not why I’m telling you about it.

Watching Moon hit a chord close to home for me in that Sam Rockwell’s character has been stationed on the moon for the past two years and 50 weeks, alone. His only contact with the world he knew has been through sporadic webcam transmissions – not even live feeds; he’s watched his daughter grow from being a bump in his wife’s belly to walking and talking, and not surprisingly, he feels disconnected and nervous about finally going home.

Now, I know I’m not on the moon. And as alien as Asia (and now the South Pacific – what?! Where am I!? We’ll get to the speck of an island nation: Guam in a post or a few) can seem from time to time, I am surrounded by people. Lots and lots of people. But at the same time, they’re not my people, or at least they weren’t at first. Home sometimes feels a million miles away, and being a day ahead, I might as well be on the moon. I’m told that everyone at home owns flat screen televisions and touch phones, burned all their books, and children as young as seven are flying hovercrafts. And according to "Glee" my life-long dream of life as a musical has come true, the proof is in the streets of America. Right? The only contact I’ve had with loved ones is through the second-hand communication of Skype and the like, making it hard to imagine those voices and images as the real life people that I hugged and loved in person at one time or another. Granted that’s not completely true as my mother came to visit me in Korea in July (bless her for that, otherwise who knows if I would’ve had the strength to embark on this current journey, to which she replies, “I guess I shouldn’t have come then!”); I randomly ran into an old buddy from college in Chiang Mai, Thailand (SMALL WORLD!!!); I met up with a dear old friend from my hometown, in Goa, India, and I just had two friends who I used to work with/live near come visit me from Korea. Seeing them and knowing that they’re real, and that people I know and love do exist out there somewhere is a comforting feeling, but oh-so strange to have them be a day away – literally.

Again, I’m reminded of this song:

"Abroad" Evripidis and his Tragedies

I have mixed feelings about actually returning back to the States. Writing that gave me a slap of anxiety. I’m trying to work on staying in the present and being mindful of the moments as I’m in them, but there are times when my mind races backwards past India, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, the Philippines, Japan, China, and Korea (I spent time in eight countries in 2010!! Whoa! I never could’ve imagined in my wildest dreams) to Chicago, Missouri, New Jersey and my memories of the people, faces and spaces of those places and everywhere in between those great big shining seas. And after never having been abroad before, I wonder (read: worry) about how I’m going to process everything upon my return. But I suppose we’ll just get to that then. The idea of a 9-5 never really appealed to me, especially now, and the prospect of picking up and leaving everyone and everything again to find some semblance of happiness (career-wise, life-wise) in travel and exploration is a bit frightening. Again, we’ll get to that when we get there. (You see what I’m dealing with everyday? But then I look out at the sea and take a deep breath and say a “thank you” for being happy, healthy and where I am, and I hope you feel the same way about where you are in life, because as my yoga instructor Lissa always says, “Wherever you are, that is where you’re meant to be.” Take it in. Enjoy it all. Life will change, and that’s a fact.)

You should go watch Moon now to see what I’m talking about.

Happy New Year! I love you. I miss you. I can’t wait to smile at you in PERSON, and touch your face and say, “My! How time has changed you… [for the better].”