This was going to be a big analytical piece about culture shock and re-immersion. But I've been too busy, having too much fun lately. I might be forfeiting the chance to capture all the "things I learned." But if I can't remember them past the first month, have I really "learned" them at all?

So, my little brother's married as of yesterday/Sunday the 28th. It was a really fun wedding. Beautiful as it should be, and quirky, and small enough to fit in the Jenkins' Estate, a local garden house with a lovely character.
The bride and groom had dyed their hair purple and blue, respectively, above their traditional, gorgeous, white wedding dress and long tuxedo. We decorated to match, colors and flowers and ribbons. The ever-changing guest list worked out just fine in the end.

The bride, Kat, and her brother, Kris, were high-school friends with my siblings and me. So it was a treat to meet their family. My favorite was probably their diminutive Grandma Santoro, who came along on the combined bachelor/bachelorette party to Darcelle's transvestite dance revue. The family was kind of hoping she'd miss some of the nuances, since she left her hearing aid at home. Afterwards she proclaimed, "You're never too old to learn something;" apparently, her experience was unimpaired. (Darcelle loved our bachelorette's hair.)

My long-lost cousin Alex showed up, William's milk-brother and companion from early childhood. He looked as different from my memories, as the two actors who play one person in a movie flashback/flashforward. Weird, but wonderful to see him.
I made the cake, which has kept me thoroughly busy at a time when I might otherwise have been feeling lost and sorry for myself. Well, I did a little of that anyway, because eating too much sugar tends to exaggerate my emotions. But it was a fun project.
With only a few days to go from scratch to finish, it helped that my mom had organized a few of the ingredients -- including saving a jar of the special cherry jam I put up while in Alexandra, NZ. We also had homemade peach and apricot spreads from my relatives in California, and huckleberries from Oregon -- a culinary cross-section of our family. Teresa helped with the marzipan flowers, too.
The busy couple liked my quick initial design-sketch, which was convenient. I added another last-minute decoration, on a whim, that coincidentally resembled the bride's dress embroidery. Score! The last-minute cake topper looked great, too. It was one of those projects that could so easily go horribly wrong, but just keeps going right.
It was a good thing I made enough for 110 people, even though there were only 75 there (originally 60). There were about five pieces left at the end; even the bartender had some.

Will, Kat, and Kris had picked some really good music - a lot of danceable jazz and swing, some quirky favorites like "Istanbul/Constantinople" and "Ramblin' Rose". The first dance was a beautiful Sinatra, which made me laugh out loud beause I knew it was the song William had picked to propose to ... and his CD changer had followed it at exactly the wrong moment with a completely contrasting song. Kris, as DJ, was much more subtle. William and Kat dance good.
When the music picked up, we joined in. My mom's brother Bill was enthusiastially leading her in the moves he remembered from swing dancing as a young man, and she sent him over to dance with me because I used to swing as well. This happened not between songs, but in the middle of "Sing Sing Sing," one of the most irresistable dance beats I know. So we went all-out, to the point where we knocked each other over and fell down. Twice. Embarrassing, but way worth it. After a few more sedate dances with other people, we got back together on a slower song and tried to work out the moves in question -- turned out we know a lot of moves that *start* the same way, and then become completely different. Involving fast turns, and dips. No wonder! The DJ, aka the bride's big brother, aka my friend Kris from high school theatre, declared my uncle "the only man I know who practices swing dance as a martial art."



***Phase II***

Now that the cake's been eaten, the dancing is over, and the bruises are starting to heal, it's time to contemplate the rest of my life. No! Scary! Tears and protestations of unworthiness!

So I'm adopting a one-day-at-a-time mentality.
You know that sign that some secretaries have? "Your Crisis Is Not My Problem / Your Crisis will be processed in the order recieved."
Well, here's my new organizing policy. Your Crisis is A Great Excuse to Postpone My Own.
So I've accomplished the wedding cake; driven out-of-town relatives around; helped with the setup/takedown; attended the wedding. Today, I drove my mom to and from school, and my grandma to her MRI appointment and ran her errands, and in the middle took a nap to recover from all that dancing. Tomorrow I'll be training to fill in for my mom's partners assistants/sons, to help finish off his big important engineering project.
When that's done, I may start temping for another friend-of-the-family. Or see if the vinyard I contacted last year could use some help with their grapes this season. In two week we have a big family reception for people who wouldn't fit in the wedding hall; in four, I have my old best friend's wedding, and a high school reunion, Maybe I can pick up a few more crises to help with along the way.
So as the weeks fall together, after a little more adjustment to culture shock, we'll see if my own dreams and desires are willing to face the light of day.

Once I get past the furious frightening sadness of contemplating the unknown in all its urgency, I have some interesting ideas ... not a plan as such, but a sense of factors to shape decisions.

Emotionally, I want it to be my turn to fall in love and get married. I'm increasingly susceptible to other peoples' children; if nothing interferes before January, I'd like to go help my sister Teresa with the anticipated birth of her first child.

Intellectually, I want work that doesn't obviously conflict with sustaining life on earth. Farming is more appealing than pouring concrete; building earth-friendly homes or making food feels better than making toys or cars. Healing is more appealing than cosmetics or accounting.
Something more academic, like writing or consulting or urban planning or research or teaching, could also fit along these lines. Or something more backwoodsy, like harvesting wild foods, or making art which doesn't involve poisons at any stage of the process. Lots of options, vaguely common theme, but it's not a "sector" that's listed in the conventional job ads.

Schedule-wise, freelance or flexible work might be convenient, followed by a regular M-F schedule. Working weekends kind of sucks. There's something to be said for closing businesses on Sundays, as many towns do in NZ. Here in Oregon, I did appreciate being able to buy last-minute plastic cups Sunday afternoon before the wedding, but even so, it might have been better to run fewer errands and spend more time with family.

Physically, my best job memories involve making things, picking things, climbing in and out of things, being in the sun, and also working with (and performing for) people. Having regular physical activity is a major asset to my health and sanity. Unfortunately, I have this lingering sense of prejudice, that physical labor is a "waste" of my education and training. Might need to get over that; would love counter-examples,

Socially, working with people who love their jobs and treat each other with respect is key, Followed by working with people who love, and/or need, the service you provide. I find offering opportunities much more appealing than coming down hard on people. (Though I have been enjoying making instant pesonality assessments, and telling people my opinion of them, more often since my travels. (Usually in what I hope to be a constructive manner.)) I also enjoy multi-cultural settings, where I can get to know my co-workers.

Location-wise, I hope to settle in the Pacific Northwest, probably in the Portland area. My roots are itching to sink in. There may be another few months or a year of travel if I find a way to pay for it, but I have a hard time imagining anyplace that could keep me away from "home" longer than that.


***

So there, two-for-one -- homecoming, and analysis.

My next constructive steps will probably involve a lot of networking and soul-searching, canvassing my acquaintences for job and life-leads.
Also sleeping and eating and enjoying family and friends, and discharging existing obligations. And exercise -- my old bike still fits :-).

My non-constructive activities will involve a lot of Mom's DVDs and books, and playing with the cat.