My life would be a pretty hollow existence without my daughter in it. That’s my little sidekick. She’s always had a good grasp on learning and speaking, the kid could already roll her “r’s” and count to 100 in Estonian at age 5. Her ability to converse with me made an already close relationship really blossom these last few years. We can have entire conversations about anything under the sun,and it makes me stop and remind myself I’m still talking to a six year old miniature person. One day when she can make decisions about her own life, I know we will be spending more time together instead of some schedule that in my eyes, was bought by my income and not based on what was best for my daughter. This little girl needs me. I’ve moved back to Florida from the West Coast twice to make sure I remained in her life. I don’t think about any alternatives, I know everything I ever do to make sure that she is OK will always be the right decision, no matter what else was on the table. There are some awful things at every turn in this world, and despite not having the picture perfect situation to grow up in, Cal has had a smile on her face every day of her life. There are no bad days to her. That is a fact that I am so thankful for. I know she needs me, and when I feel like I might buckle under the weight of my own personal struggles, I know that I need her just as much.
When I am traveling, I always make it a point to stop and check out big college campuses. Most of the time the only glimpse I had prior was through sports. So usually of course we go hit up the football stadiums, mascot statues, or anything tying the university to athletics. I think this may be an American phenomenon though, as I have been to a few of the university towns in Europe now and I don’t even think there is the same culture attached to the schools like there is back home. Sorry, no SEC equivalent in Estonia. These are bastions of learning, and alumni probably associate with them as such. Which is totally fine, I could see the crazed loyalty shown to a school that manifests itself at a sporting event being totally an American thing. I always liked school (I’ve continued to take classes so it seems like I never stopped until recently), plus the interesting thing for an outsider in Europe visiting these campuses is also like a history lesson. Seeing school buildings that are older than the United States and are still being used is mind blowing. These campuses have survived wars, revolutions, and upheaval that post colonial America only experienced during its Civil War. Imagining the culture clash that these students in Europe would experience while studying abroad in the South is humorous. What would they think being in Tallahassee on a Fall Saturday seeing a city full of intoxicated people going crazy for a school that half of them probably didn’t even attend?
When I die, the only things I really would care about people saying about me would be “he was a good father, he really loved his daughter and he was a good husband, he really loved his wife”. I would go to the grave knowing I lived up to those statements to best of my abilities. Anyone who would say otherwise doesn’t know me at all. Putting the people around you that your care about is a pretty good goal, and I feel happy when I am making that a priority. A lot of what happened over the past few months were some pretty painful trials for me personally, but I accept them as lessons. I learned a lot. I changed a lot. Being someone that deflects responsibilities, consequences, and just sits around bemoaning their problems isn’t who I am. I feel really sorry for people who can’t get out of their own way. Life is never going to be perfect for you, and sure the hell won’t ever improve (in your eyes) if you don’t cut the “woe is me” horse shit and make some changes that will directly affect your so called problems. If you can’t see each day for the beautiful prospect that its a great day to get better, chances are things are going to get way worse before they ever get better.
I think the biggest thing that a lot of people struggle with is being held accountable for their actions. Big and small, you’d be amazed how many people are full of shit. I put a lot of things out in the open over the last couple months and one side effect of doing that was that it forced me to be accountable for my actions with the crowd of people that I was trying to communicate with. It also forced other people in the situation to do likewise, whether they liked it or not, and whether they realized it at the time or not. Things have a funny way of blowing up in peoples faces. That’s a good thing. No one should be allowed to use a public platform to lie. Using it as a way to tell the truth can be so much more powerful in the long run. Dated, signed, packaged with a nice tag that reads “so this is what REALLY happened.” May include hash tags. When you commit to something, you’ve gotta belong to it. When you say something, you better back that up with your actions. And if you bold face lie about something, please just go ahead and say to yourself that you accept the explosion when it goes off in your face. In the end, its never worth it. So you you might as well start holding yourself accountable. Because the rest of the world sure will.
Estonia doesn’t get enough credit as a coffee country. That statement doesn’t just refer to the coffee itself, but the cafes that serve it and the myriad of settings in which to enjoy it. Cobblestone courtyards, medieval era cellars, or scenic views along a beach highway. Even the “standard” types of coffeehouses that one may be accustomed to in the states are all a step above what I would consider a nice place to enjoy a cup of coffee. Most of these cafes are in renovated Soviet era warehouses, which creates a blend of rustic architecture with modern comforts. A huge difference in atmosphere with not only coffee shops but Estonian city life in general, is the lack of a town square (“Rakeoja Plats) in US cities and towns. These centralized areas are usually centuries old and provide a good location to shop, eat, and of course, drink coffee. My favorite shop is actually located in the cellar of a building that is hundreds of years old within the Estonian capital city. I got a job lined up there about a month ago thanks to a little luck and some old Starbucks experience (a manager just happened to be an old S Bux shift in Minneapolis). I was never a big cappuccino fan until this past arrival in Europe, but when its made consistently well like it is in Estonia, its actually become a new favorite. Hopefully the jackasses back in FL can replicate the feat but I won’t hold my breath.
