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Friday, October 03, 2003
I'm ending my "vacation" here in Napa where rather than vacating my mind I've changed my life. I know that changing my scenery will still leave me with myself, but it's really not me that makes me sad. I think I'm pretty okay. Maybe I wish I was funnier or skinnier or an ice skater but at the end of the day, I'm happy I'm going home with me.
"What do you want to do?" This is a question I've been asked over ten times this week, by people with wide eyes poised and ready to help me, and I've said, "I don't know. I want to write." I've also said that I'm ready to join the wine business, which I am, but a great part of the allure of coming here is having time to write. And not just time but also space, space in my mind, a brief period of time where I'm not frantic about paying rent or scared of crazy people. I want just a tiny bit of peace in my life and I'm willing to accept a little help to get it.
I've accepted a job at a very prestigious winery here in Napa, California. I accepted it for a lot of reasons, but the main one was how badly they wanted me. The HR woman, upon hearing that I couldn't be here as soon as they wanted, said that the person in charge would be "heartbroken". "Once in a great time," she said, "someone comes along who we think is really special, who would be exceptional, who would bring great things to us". Apparently they think that is me. I know I could do this anywhere. I know that I could own whatever I put my mind to do but it's still nice not to have to tell myself that. It's nice to have someone else say, "We need someone right now. We've been running short. But we are willing to wait for YOU for three more weeks."
So that is what I'm doing. In three weeks I'll get back on a plane with my bikes and my clothes and start work in a winery. Four days a week I'll do tours and pour wine, and three days a week (and some nights) will be devoted to my novel. I plan to get involved, to make friends, to carve out a life regardless of how long I plan to stay. Right now I'm willing to commit to winter, to March or so, and then I'll figure it out from there. Actually, I'm willing to commit to three weeks from now and then take it from there. Anything is possible.
But now, I have to wrap up New York. I get back tomorrow night and have three weeks to find someone to take over my lease, to pack my life, to say goodbye to my New York family.
And then, once again, I start over.
"What do you want to do?" This is a question I've been asked over ten times this week, by people with wide eyes poised and ready to help me, and I've said, "I don't know. I want to write." I've also said that I'm ready to join the wine business, which I am, but a great part of the allure of coming here is having time to write. And not just time but also space, space in my mind, a brief period of time where I'm not frantic about paying rent or scared of crazy people. I want just a tiny bit of peace in my life and I'm willing to accept a little help to get it.
I've accepted a job at a very prestigious winery here in Napa, California. I accepted it for a lot of reasons, but the main one was how badly they wanted me. The HR woman, upon hearing that I couldn't be here as soon as they wanted, said that the person in charge would be "heartbroken". "Once in a great time," she said, "someone comes along who we think is really special, who would be exceptional, who would bring great things to us". Apparently they think that is me. I know I could do this anywhere. I know that I could own whatever I put my mind to do but it's still nice not to have to tell myself that. It's nice to have someone else say, "We need someone right now. We've been running short. But we are willing to wait for YOU for three more weeks."
So that is what I'm doing. In three weeks I'll get back on a plane with my bikes and my clothes and start work in a winery. Four days a week I'll do tours and pour wine, and three days a week (and some nights) will be devoted to my novel. I plan to get involved, to make friends, to carve out a life regardless of how long I plan to stay. Right now I'm willing to commit to winter, to March or so, and then I'll figure it out from there. Actually, I'm willing to commit to three weeks from now and then take it from there. Anything is possible.
But now, I have to wrap up New York. I get back tomorrow night and have three weeks to find someone to take over my lease, to pack my life, to say goodbye to my New York family.
And then, once again, I start over.
Wednesday, October 01, 2003
I'm not sleeping very well. I'm out here exploring new possibilities for my life and I'm losing sleep over it. I needed a vacation, and what I'm getting is a whole world of possibility and it's actually really stressful. I'm lost between being vastly thankful and really needing a nap.
It's amazing, though. Every person I've talked to has been encouraging and kind, and just today, one of the heaviest hitters told me that with my experiece and talents, I should be able to pick and choose in this valley. I should be able to create work wherever I want to go. However, I am not ready to make any major commitment; I'm looking at this winter only, and I'm not remotely ready to stop writing or singing. There is opportunity for me out here, but I will not get involved with something that will take me away from my other passions. I will dive into anything that is an outlet for all of them. Or most of them. I don't know. This week will tell me how soon I'll be out here- by the end of the month, by Thanksgiving, by Christmas, by next Friday- I just don't know. I feel able to roll with the punches but I'm also still... exhausted. By everything from my poor cat to my new awful job to the mere idea of moving.
I know my cold is related to my stress. But I think moving here, embracing this opportunity, is the best thing I could do to take care of myself. I just have to get from point A to point B.
It's amazing, though. Every person I've talked to has been encouraging and kind, and just today, one of the heaviest hitters told me that with my experiece and talents, I should be able to pick and choose in this valley. I should be able to create work wherever I want to go. However, I am not ready to make any major commitment; I'm looking at this winter only, and I'm not remotely ready to stop writing or singing. There is opportunity for me out here, but I will not get involved with something that will take me away from my other passions. I will dive into anything that is an outlet for all of them. Or most of them. I don't know. This week will tell me how soon I'll be out here- by the end of the month, by Thanksgiving, by Christmas, by next Friday- I just don't know. I feel able to roll with the punches but I'm also still... exhausted. By everything from my poor cat to my new awful job to the mere idea of moving.
I know my cold is related to my stress. But I think moving here, embracing this opportunity, is the best thing I could do to take care of myself. I just have to get from point A to point B.
Monday, September 29, 2003
Monday, September.. uh, well, it's the last Monday in September. Leave me alone. I've had a few glasses of wine
I'm writing from St. Helena, California, and I spent the day helping with the "crush" of RW2 (rwsquared) 2003 cabernet. My father and Richard Walton have been making wine together for two years now, and I can't imagine a better guy than, well, both Richards, who are incredibly different and compatible at the same time. The other Richard, the one I'm not related to, starts laughing when he wants to say something wry or funny, but he gets two words out, and then he has to stop and laugh. He also told me about a paddle trip he took with his daughter this summer. Seems I have a lot in common with both Richards.
I've all but made the decision to move here. I know this seems like it is coming from left field but, well, what an opportunity . I've already had one of five meetings where I'm talking to big people here in Napa, people in the wine business who are informed and connected and, so far, really kind and wonderful. The only pause I have right now is when. Next week? Next month? Should I wait out my lease even though at this point, I have no way to pay rent next month? I'm making less than $200 a week at my new job, and having to battle the crazies and the drunks and the excessively late hours. My mom wants me to never go back; I wish I didn't have to.
I will need to go home and pack, and write, and play with the few people I care about back in NY. But I am ready for great change, and it can happen here.
I need to send cyber-kudos out to my dad, whose friends love him so much they are willing to open their arms to me even during the craziest time of the year- the picking and crush- and I am reminded that I am so, so lucky to have the family I do. Last night I was talking to a friend and he asked me how I maintain my level of self-confidence. I laughed, because it is something I certainly struggle with, but I told him that not only do I have a great degree of faith in myself, I also have this family. I have a mom who transcends momness- truly- there is nothing too small or enormous that she wouldn't do if I needed it. My brothers who, each in their own way, remind me who I am. And my dad, someone who when I was thirteen I told I hated, when at fifteen was sure I would never really know, who when I was twenty listened and responded to the hardest questions and accusations a daughter could throw, and now that I am thirty one, has opened up his life to me.
I'm a lucky, lucky girl, just like my mom put in song, and now I need to make good on all the gifts given to me. I know I can do this.
I'm writing from St. Helena, California, and I spent the day helping with the "crush" of RW2 (rwsquared) 2003 cabernet. My father and Richard Walton have been making wine together for two years now, and I can't imagine a better guy than, well, both Richards, who are incredibly different and compatible at the same time. The other Richard, the one I'm not related to, starts laughing when he wants to say something wry or funny, but he gets two words out, and then he has to stop and laugh. He also told me about a paddle trip he took with his daughter this summer. Seems I have a lot in common with both Richards.
I've all but made the decision to move here. I know this seems like it is coming from left field but, well, what an opportunity . I've already had one of five meetings where I'm talking to big people here in Napa, people in the wine business who are informed and connected and, so far, really kind and wonderful. The only pause I have right now is when. Next week? Next month? Should I wait out my lease even though at this point, I have no way to pay rent next month? I'm making less than $200 a week at my new job, and having to battle the crazies and the drunks and the excessively late hours. My mom wants me to never go back; I wish I didn't have to.
I will need to go home and pack, and write, and play with the few people I care about back in NY. But I am ready for great change, and it can happen here.
I need to send cyber-kudos out to my dad, whose friends love him so much they are willing to open their arms to me even during the craziest time of the year- the picking and crush- and I am reminded that I am so, so lucky to have the family I do. Last night I was talking to a friend and he asked me how I maintain my level of self-confidence. I laughed, because it is something I certainly struggle with, but I told him that not only do I have a great degree of faith in myself, I also have this family. I have a mom who transcends momness- truly- there is nothing too small or enormous that she wouldn't do if I needed it. My brothers who, each in their own way, remind me who I am. And my dad, someone who when I was thirteen I told I hated, when at fifteen was sure I would never really know, who when I was twenty listened and responded to the hardest questions and accusations a daughter could throw, and now that I am thirty one, has opened up his life to me.
I'm a lucky, lucky girl, just like my mom put in song, and now I need to make good on all the gifts given to me. I know I can do this.