a change is a comin'

It was going to work like this:

We would start planning, in 2008, to move back to the USA in 2009, and I would start job hunting before we had left Germany. I would probably get a job offer before we moved, because, you know, I'm so fabulous, but, if not, no problem, I would get one soon after we arrived in Louisville, our temporary home, of course, and we would move wherever that job was. And if not, then we'd move to Portland, Oregon. Either way, I would start working in a senior position at some nonprofit or government agency, because I am just SUCH a highly-desired professional, while Stefan took classes and got a feel for the states. Might take a year or two, but he'd find a job, eventually. And we would work and explore the USA, build up a nice nest egg, and after 20 years or so, we'd move back to Germany and I'd stop working, and maybe Stefan would too, because we would have So. Much. Savings.

Well, it didn't work out that way.

I'm so glad that Stefan got hired almost immediately once we moved to Portland and that, because of his job, we got to go to Mexico. And then he got a much better job and that's given us the financial security we need to live day to day, year to year - while I flounder, employment-wise, for more than 10 years. And maybe this is the year I finally accept that.

Yes, since moving back from Germany, I've lived in the USA 10 years - my anniversary for moving back was in April, and we will have lived 10 years in Oregon as of September. It hasn't gone how I had hoped, except for the travel and motorcycle riding - although Stefan is terribly disappointed we haven't traveled more. He remains stunned at just how bad the vacation time is in the USA. Me too.

It would take living here until 2023 to have lived in our house, and Forest Grove, for 10 years, and for a while, I was urgently hoping for that milestone, but I don't think it's going to happen. I think it's very likely we'll be moving back to Germany before then - or, at least, by then.

Even so, I've now lived in this town longer than I've lived anywhere since leaving my hometown in Henderson, Kentucky. Yes, I've lived here longer even than anywhere in California or in Austin, Texas. It doesn't at all feel that way. 

We hope to do a motorcycle trip down through Baja, California, Mexico and back in March 2020. And I hope to finally get to New York City and some parts of New England this year or in 2020 and see people I've been promising to see for the last 10 years. I also hope to do a road trip of my own in Kentucky and Tennessee, either this year or next - sans motorcycle (I'll probably be by myself, in fact). But in 2020, it will probably be time to start thinking about when we'll move back to Germany and how we are going to do that.

If you have put off visiting me in Oregon, time is running out, so you might want to make those plans for a visit before 2022.

There's lots and lots to do before a move back to Germany. First and foremost, Stefan will have to find a job (I won't be able to find one: I don't speak German, I am not German, and it's even harder for a woman my age to find a job in Germany than in the USA). And that could take a couple of years of job hunting once we do decide to start planning. But if there is one thing moving around so much in my life has taught me: you have to start thinking about these things many months, even years, in advance. At least I do. 

Thinking about leaving the USA for 20 years or so this time has made me nostalgic. I've been thinking about what I've loved most about living in the USA again - and I'm working on accepting that it may be for the last time. If I made a list of the things I love here, how long would the list be? Turns out it's 15 things - all things I didn't appreciate fully until I lived elsewhere: 

1. Motorcycle riding. There is no country better for motorcycle riding. There is such a tremendous amount of scenery to take in and fantastic roads to enjoy in the USA, more than any other country. It's so easy to find beautiful places on well-maintained roads without much traffic - and easy to find scenic, well-maintained gravel roads as well. We've made a point of exploring as much as possible in the Pacific Northwest, and even in our 10 years here, there's still so much we will leave without seeing. And so much of what we've seen has been just once - I'd so love to go back and make a second trip to so many places we've experienced. But time has, sadly, run out.
    
2. Camping. Again, there is no country better for it. So much of European camping is tents and cabins right on top of each other, packed in tightly, and not somewhere scenic. It's wonderful that there are so many camping sites in Europe near villages and even in the middle of large cities, which makes touring around surprisingly affordable. But the amount of camping in the USA, the incredibly beautiful places where you can camp, the jaw-dropping sites, the wildlife you see - it's something I love about my country, that I love beyond measure.
    
3. Food. Screw you foodies. Screw you, Europe. The food in the USA is the BEST in the WORLD. Yes, there is amazing food all over the world. But the variety you can find in the USA, the fusion of different cultures - it's AMAZING. I get so tired of Europeans saying they hate the food in the USA - and then it turns out they eat only at McDonald's and Olive Garden when they are here. Some of my husband's friends came to visit from Germany and the only restaurant they liked where we live is one I loathe, one where most of the food is made offsite - nothing is fresh. It's edible but boring - and just a few blocks from a couple of very decent, tiny Mexican restaurants they would never try. In the USA, the variety of pizza, the variety of barbeque, the unique pub food, diner food, the little family restaurants, the endless number of fusion restaurants - it's great stuff and I miss it terribly when I live abroad.
    
4. Being able to easily communicate. I've really enjoyed living abroad in Germany, Afghanistan and Ukraine in years past, but I also can't deny the profound frustration of not being able to easily make a haircut appointment and say what I want done with my hair. Or ask in a shop for something. Or have a conversation with someone anywhere - standing in line for a movie, sitting on the bus, whatever. Or making jokes with grocery store checkout people. Doing all that chitchat is a part of who I am - when I'm abroad, all I can do is smile (or not even that, since many other cultures, including in Germany, think smiling is weird). And finding a doctor, finding a dentist, and communicating with his or her staff... it's a constant struggle.
    
5. Civic engagement. I had intended to get involved in local government and local nonprofits when I came back to the USA, long before I came back to the USA, and I did as soon as I got back to the country, but I ramped up my activities in 2017 and have continued through 2019. It's been inconvenient, frustrating and exhausting - but it's also been very satisfying and taught me a lot about people and communication. There are few countries that make it as easy to get involved in politics or to volunteer with nonprofits as in the USA. I'll really miss it when I move back to Europe, where protests are normal but this type of civic engagement is strange, and NGOs aren't really interested in someone who doesn't speak the local language (and, really, why should they be?).
    
6. TV in English. I have always watched too much TV. Way too much. But I love it. Especially Turner Classic Movies and PBS. And I like watching channels with programming curated by someone. When you watch a channel curated by someone, you end up making all sorts of amazing discoveries. TCM has turned me on to actors, movies and genres I never would have given a chance if the choice had been mine on exactly what to watch, when and where. TCM says, "Take a chance, give this a try." And often, it leads to delight. A few months ago, I watched H Is for Hawk: A New Chapter on Nature on PBS. It came on after the PBS News Hour and I didn't change the channel quick enough. And I got sucked into an amazing story I never intended on watching. It was amazing. That never happens when you live abroad - you are constantly asking your friends for recommendations of what to watch, trying to find illegal downloads online... you miss a lot.
    
7. Concerts and other performances in English. I haven't been to many in these 10 years, certainly not as many as I was hoping once I moved back to the USA, but the ones I've been to have been wonderful. Portland, Oregon is no Austin, Texas, that's for sure, but it's fun to hear music I love on stage, performed live, even just a couple times a year. Europe just isn't into live music like we are here as well - no nice little bluegrass band at brunch and what not. They also want a performer to perform the music EXACTLY like you hear it on the CD.
    
8. Friends. I have really enjoyed seeing long-time friends in-person, however rarely, these last 10 years. And I've loved how easy it is to make friends in the USA. It's very hard to make friends in other countries - even migrants who live here in the USA have told me that. I'm really, really going to miss this.
    
9. Mass cultural experiences. Feeling right at home in the movie theater on the day a new Star Wars movie is released. Or that community-feeling you get when everyone is flocking to the latest Marvel movie. Or some song or band we all seem to love - or want to make fun of. It's a silly little fun thing I didn't realize we did here in the USA until I came back. I've missed it when living abroad. And I'll miss it once we move back.
    
10. Clothes. I know that all clothes are made in Asia, but I greatly prefer American fashions to what's sold in Europe. Europeans love horizontal stripes (ick) and a lot of color - like red pants (ick).
     
11. Books in English. This should be way higher on the list, of course. Again, it's like TV in English: of course, I can order a book in English from most any German bookshop or from Amazon. But it's so nice to stand in front of a bookshelf and pick something. Or a lot of things. I may do a few days in England every year just for this experience.
     
12. Our public lands. Our national parks, national forests, national monuments, Bureau of Land Management lands, state parks, state forests and other public lands - they are the BEST IN THE WORLD because they are everywhere. Yes, other countries have public lands that are just as beautiful - but as many and accessible and as varied and as vast? Nope - not even close. I have relished every moment in public lands in the USA - and Canada, for that matter. It's been glorious. Oh how I'm going to miss it.
     
13. Black Americans and black American culture. I hope I'm not fetishizing this. But Black American culture is different than black culture anywhere else, and for me, it's an essential, fundamental part of my country. And it's quite varied within the USA itself. The food and music and perspectives of black Americans is an important, integral part of my country, an essential part of it, and when I'm abroad, I miss it. There's nothing quite like it - not even in sub-Sahara Africa - which is wonderful in and of itself, of course.
     
14. Kentucky. Living briefly in Louisville and getting to work briefly in Lexington, and getting to drive all the way across the state, made me fall in love with my tribal homeland for the FIRST time. In fact, I even fell in love with a job there and wondered, could I live in Louisville or Lexington? Could I? I had dreamed of riding my motorcycle over the Spottsville bridge, riding up to a family reunion in Audubon Park... But that's not going to happen.
     
15. My stuff. I love looking at my bookshelves, looking at my movie posters, looking at my certificates, looking at my plaques, looking at the things I've curated over the years... They bring me joy. But those can't go with me when I go abroad. It's too much. So, therefore, I know that I'm supposed to get rid of them, since I may never live in the USA again, but I don't think I can. Instead, I'm going to try to reduce everything I want to keep down to what would fit in a 5'x10' storage building - 50 square feet. And hope there is someone out there willing to house that storage unit on their property for 20 years (I'll pay you rent!). Because maybe, when I'm 80, I'll come back to the USA to live out my days, and I can have those things around me at my retirement home. That would make me very happy. That would bring me joy. 

Well, I think that's it. I intend to keep enjoying the aforementioned as much as possible in the years I have left in the USA, which could be three more years, but I don't see it as five more. And the tradeoff for moving back to Germany is universal, affordable health care, easy access to more than a dozen countries and affordable access to more than a dozen more, and taking my dog on mass transit and into restaurants and bars.

I hope friends will come visit once I move back to Europe, but I know circumstances are so different than when I lived there at the start of the century: ya'll are putting kids through college, enjoying grandchildren, and thinking many hours in a plane doesn't sound all that appealing anymore. You've also got your own retirement expenses to think about. So many of you came when I lived there before - you've had your European vacation and may not really want another. I get that. But if you can visit, I'd love to host you. Heck, I'd probably be willing to meet up with you in Amsterdam, Brussels, Madrid, Prague... just keep me posted. 

I do not have to share this. But I am.

I'm very private about my health issues and health care. If you follow me on social media, you may have noticed that I rarely even mention doctors' appointments or even dental appointments. I hate that my dentist office has an open floor plan, where there is just one big room for all procedures and patients are blocked from seeing each other by cabinets - you can hear everything said in the space next door, which means others can hear my conversations with the staff there. The most I'll be open about is my weight loss - and even then, I'm holding back a lot because what I've gone through health-wise because of weight IS NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS.

I really hate my health issues being public.

I know a lot of people who are very open about their health issues - depression, cancer, surgeries, medication, whatever. I'm not at all condemning them, mostly because I often read those posts. A friend wrote emails to her friends about her cancer treatments over a few years and I learned SO much - I had no idea what certain treatments really involved, even though I'd heard the names of such many times. It was very educational for me and I appreciated it.

But no one who is going through or has gone through any illness, condition or medical treatment should ever feel obligated to share their story. I think having a root canal should be private if a person wants that to be private. And I feel the same about aborting a pregnancy. Neither are procedures someone should feel ashamed of, but the motivation for people not sharing them often doesn't come from shame - it comes from a feeling that person has that medical procedures of any kind are NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS.

That I aborted a pregnancy is none of your business. I don't have to share publicly that I aborted a pregnancy and no one else has to share that they have done so. And I've never intended to share it publicly, not because I'm ashamed of it - I am not ashamed of my abortion - but because it is NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS.

But state legislatures across the USA are working to ban the procedure of aborting pregnancies. Restricting access has been bad enough: women forced to watch videos designed to scare or shame them into canceling the appointment, waiting periods designed to make it impossible for some women to make an appointment, clinic requirements designed to make it impossible for some clinics to continue operations, etc. Those restrictions have lead to thousands of women forced to give birth, and if you think all of those stories ended with happy, healthy babies and women ultimately grateful that they carried the pregnancy to term, you live in a fantasy world - I'm the person that those women will tell, quietly, away from everyone else, that this is not a happy ending. Those restrictions on access to abortion services have NOT come with funding for pre-natal care, maternal health care, infant care, post-natal health care, rent and food assistance for women forced to quit jobs, child care, etc., so no one can say this is somehow "pro life" with any sincerity whatsoever. The bans on abortion won't come with any of that funding either.

I'm not going to tell you why I wanted an abortion because IT'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS. I'm not going to tell you a story that works to garner your sympathy regarding the circumstances regarding my getting pregnant or what my life was like at that time because IT'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS and because IT DOESN'T MATTER WHY A WOMAN WANTS TO ABORT A PREGNANCY. It does. not. matter. No debate, no discussion, don't even try with me.

I aborted a pregnancy. I have zero regrets about accessing abortion services. The person who shared responsibility for that pregnancy isn't worth a second thought. I am grateful to the very dear male friend who made my appointment and the other very dear male friend who loaned me part of the cash I needed and drove me the 67 miles to and from the clinic - both still my friends, both still very dear to me though I see them rarely. I am grateful to one woman in particular who was also aborting a pregnancy that day at the clinic - her second abortion: she gave me wonderful advice and comfort. I am disappointed in my female friends at the time who knew (most didn't) and avoided me like the plague, either because they disapproved of the decision or they just didn't want to deal with the crisis I was going through. And it was a crisis, in every sense of the word, and it jeopardized not only everything I had going for me at that time but my entire future. And my future matters. And I'm not going to tell you any more about the crisis that surrounded that pregnancy because IT'S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS and because IT DOESN'T MATTER WHY A WOMAN WANTS TO ABORT A PREGNANCY. It does. not. matter. No debate, no discussion, don't even try with me.

So, yes, I aborted a pregnancy. I am grateful that I had access to services to do it. I am grateful that the drive to the clinic was just 67 miles away. I am grateful that the anti-choice, anti-women religious zealots that usually terrorize women outside of clinics took that day off. I am grateful I was able to have an appointment that allowed me to not miss the substantial obligations and immediate goals I had at that time such that no one around me ever suspected what was happening, not because I was ashamed but because I wanted to complete those obligations and goals, they meant the world to me, and I remain proud of what I was able to achieve despite having to deal with the crisis of a pregnancy and the procedure and recovery from a medical procedure - from aborting a pregnancy. I am grateful that abortion allowed me to be where I am, professionally and personally.

And I am also grateful for the time, many years later, that I think I miscarried a pregnancy before I even knew I was pregnant. The circumstances around that are also NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS.

For all of this, in a growing number of states, per the legislation they have passed, I would be a criminal if I had done these things now, as would every medical professional that participated in my abortion procedure and my friend that drove me across state lines to and from the clinic. I would also be a criminal for not reporting that miscarriage and not having a funeral for the clump of cells my body, thankfully, decided to flush out. And that's why I've chosen to share my story, because no woman who chooses to abort a pregnancy or chooses to be silent about a miscarriage should be prosecuted for anything - nor humiliated, for that matter.

Every single person reading this blog cares about someone who also happens to have needed an abortion and is GRATEFUL she was able to access that abortion. Every. Single. One. Of. You.

If you are against abortion, that's fine: don't ever have one. If you think you are "pro-life", then I look forward to your social media posts about the need for universal health care and the horror of putting children in cages and separating them from their families at the border and your support for tax increases to provide funding for rent and food assistance for women forced to quit jobs, access child care, assistance in care for children with disabilities, etc. because of forced child-bearing. I look forward to your posts about your regularly volunteering for babysitting and child care for children with disabilities so that parents can work, go to the grocery or go to medical appointments.

If these laws are even partially upheld by the Supreme Court - and with the new makeup of the court, that is very likely to happen - I will volunteer my guest room for women who want to access abortion services in Oregon and will risk crossing state lines to get it, and I will drive them to and from their abortion appointments. If that means I can never go to certain states because I would risk arrest, so be it - that's their loss, not mine.

I don't give one fuck for any friend or family member I lose contact with over this post. Buh bye. Please let the door hit you in your ass on your way out of my life.

#youknowme #ihadanabortion

Definitive version of Julius Caesar - NO DEBATES!

I have seen more than a dozen productions of Shakespeare plays, live or on film. I've read several of his plays FOR FUN. Pretty good for a gal from rural Western Kentucky. Thanks to public school teachers in the Henderson County, Kentucky school system, I was introduced to a Shakespeare play in junior high school and every year after. And thanks to minoring in theater at Western Kentucky University - a minor the university will get betting rid of - my exposure to and enjoyment of the Bard continued through college. And continues to this day.

I love me some Shakespeare.

Shakespeare makes me laugh. He makes me cry. He makes me feel romantic. He reminds me of the wonder I've experienced. And the gut-wrenching sadness. He brings up topics that are buried far down in my soul, that I hope no one discovers. He's full of lofty ideas... and sex and lots of dirty jokes. He's painfully sexist and, at times, shockingly feminist. His plays are full of history and, yet, are so very timeless.

I love me some Shakespeare.

When staged, I enjoy Shakespeare plays in Elizabethan costumes, I enjoy them re-imagined in a banana republic, I enjoy women playing traditionally male parts, I enjoy the same person playing multiple parts - as long as a staged production is emotionally sincere and honest to the text, I'm good.

But I'm not always happy with productions - sometimes, the gimmicks to update the play, to make it feel fresh, can be too much, can get too contrived and feel too much like a distracting stunt - and not at all necessary.

With all that in mind, and with great trepidation, I started watching a production of Julius Caesar, set in a women's prison, as though the women prisoners are putting on the play in their prison - so it's a play within a play. I was fearing too much of a gimmick. 15 minutes in, I was completely sold on the idea, and by the time it ended, I wanted to stand up in my living room and applaud to the television and scream "Brava." At one point while watching I had to hit pause and just cry and think about what I was seeing and experiencing. There were moments I sat here in my living room, on my couch, hands over my mouth, trembling, full of every bit of the emotion I had as I watched Avenger's: End Game a couple of weeks ago. The conceptual brilliance of Phyllida Lloyd's direction and staging and the mind-blowing performance by Harriet Walter as Brutus makes this, for me, THE definitive production of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar. It makes me want to go get a teaching degree just to show this to high school students in an English class. I feel like my life has been forever altered after viewing this production - seriously.

Yeah, I liked it.

If I ever meet Harriet Walter or Phyllida Lloyd, I will probably throw myself at their feet and scream "I'M NOT WORTHY TO BE IN YOUR PRESENCE."

This production was shown on PBS via Great Performances. I knew NOTHING about it before I recorded it and watched it. Since then, I've delved into the Interwebs to find out how this brilliance came to be. The setting for this production was inspired by a creative collaboration between prisoners, actors and the production team in association with the theater company Clean Break and the York St. John University Prison Partnership Project in England. I have never seen a production so well filmed, and as it's in the round, I was even further blown away. Turns out that the production was filmed on two consecutive Saturdays – one week with eight cameras on one side, the next with the cameras on the opposite side. The resulting footage was edited together over several months, together with material from GoPro cameras the actors wear at different times. The “NT Live” model of capture, with fixed cameras, would have been utterly unsatisfactory for this production.

Any viewing of Julius Caesar is particularly poignant in the USA right now: it is the acknowledgment of the fears of a dictatorship tempered with a caution about bloody revolution. I appreciate that timeless message very much - that's one of the reasons I wanted to see this, even though I've seen Julius Caesar at least twice before. I just wasn't expecting a production that was utterly mesmerizing and genius.

I'm so glad I give every month to OPB. The importance of public television and public radio cannot be denied.

I blogged about my introduction to Shakespeare, in case you are interested.