I’m freaking out on the inside.
Backstory: coming back from the lovely place that was New Zealand, I got a bad case of wanderlust. I wanted to see more, go to more places, I was feeling invincible. When a friend asked me to go with them to New York, I told them I’d love to. So I began preparing a trip to the land of ‘mericah.
And then something else popped up: The One Last Party; a party organised by The One Ring.net (TORn) to celebrate the end of the Hobbit movies, with the possibility of actors popping in to say hi, as they did the previous times. Having seen snippets of those parties on the Extendeds, I felt like I heard angels sing in the distance. I needed to be there.
So I asked my friend if it was okay if I didn’t go along with them (making me feel guilty as hell, but hey, this is the LAST time this will happen) and bought my tickets.
So now I’m going to Los Angeles.
Tomorrow.
Alone.
Shiiiiiiiiiiit.
Doomsday scenarios have been crowding in my head. What if I miss the bus? Train? PLANE? What if my luggage can’t go on board? What if I arrive at the terminal and it turns out the website I got my ticket from has conned me? What if my ESTA documents aren’t correctly filled out? What if, if I do get to LA, I can’t pay the taxi fee? What if- what if-
Right now I feel so worried I think that if I do get to LA I will huddle up in the youth hostel (what if it closed down during the Oscars and they didn’t tell me?) and not come out. Not even for Bubba Gump shrimps.
A week or two ago, It truly began to sink in that I was actually going, that I wasn’t going to have any accidents or get an incurable disease or anything that would make it impossible for me to go (not for lack of trying, my bike did get hit by a car and I did get a cold). I was sitting up in bed one morning, staring out of my window, and tried to process what I was feeling. I started writing down what I was feeling in my bedside notebook, which I have for emergencies like these.
I was scared. Worried. Very much worried.
But I also found out that I was determined, because dammit, if there is one thing I love in the world, it’s Middle-earth, and it’ll all be worth it, and if I can do this thing, I will be invincible.
It’s an incredibly corny thing to do, probably, but I turned to my books for courage.
There’s a chapter in Fellowship of the Ring. The fellowship has passed the Argonath, and Aragorn, the newly appointed leader, doesn’t know what he should do, so he lets Frodo decide. Frodo isn’t exactly well-travelled, so he asks for time, and wanders away from the Fellowship. Boromir follows him, and they have an argument.
“I was afraid for you, Frodo,” he said, coming forward. “If Aragorn is right and Orcs are near, then none of us should wander alone, and you least of all: so much depends on you. And my heart too is heavy. May I stay now and talk for a while, since I have found you? It would comfort me. Where there are so many, all speech becomes a debate without end. But two together may perhaps find wisdom.”
Boromir basically goes on, telling his plan; why go through a deadly maze of rocks and marshland if they could go to Gondor, where they have allies, where they’d be safe?
“Are you sure that you do not suffer needlessly?” he said. “I wish to help you. You need counsel in your hard choice. Will you not take mine?”
It’s so tempting. An escape, an easy way out. Let the brave and the strong take the decisions for us. Let them do the fighting. Frodo has already taken the ring far beyond what he thought he’d go to when he stepped out his door, in Bag-end.
“Surely you see it, my friend?” he said, turning now suddenly to Frodo again. “You say that you are afraid. If it is so, the boldest should pardon you. But is it not really your good sense that revolts?”
But Frodo wouldn’t be Frodo if he’d followed Boromir’s advice.
“No, I am afraid,” said Frodo. “Simply afraid. But I am glad to have heard you speak so fully. My mind is clearer now.”
He’s just afraid, nothing more. You can’t be brave without being afraid. He knows in his heart what Boromir’s solution will bring; being stuck in a fortress with no way out, and Boromir succumbing to the One Ring. No; he needs to things the hard way, or no way at all. And that road is scary as hell, but at least it’s right.
I could stay home. Go to work every day. Maybe one day I’ll do one of those trips my mom often does; city trips with a travel agency that’s 90 % sitting on a bus and 10 % seeing places that are swarmed with tourists, where everything is done for you.
But maybe I know in my heart that that’s not the way to travel.
Maybe what I’m about to do tomorrow is scary as hell, but at least it’s right.
Backstory: coming back from the lovely place that was New Zealand, I got a bad case of wanderlust. I wanted to see more, go to more places, I was feeling invincible. When a friend asked me to go with them to New York, I told them I’d love to. So I began preparing a trip to the land of ‘mericah.
And then something else popped up: The One Last Party; a party organised by The One Ring.net (TORn) to celebrate the end of the Hobbit movies, with the possibility of actors popping in to say hi, as they did the previous times. Having seen snippets of those parties on the Extendeds, I felt like I heard angels sing in the distance. I needed to be there.
So I asked my friend if it was okay if I didn’t go along with them (making me feel guilty as hell, but hey, this is the LAST time this will happen) and bought my tickets.
So now I’m going to Los Angeles.
Tomorrow.
Alone.
Shiiiiiiiiiiit.
Doomsday scenarios have been crowding in my head. What if I miss the bus? Train? PLANE? What if my luggage can’t go on board? What if I arrive at the terminal and it turns out the website I got my ticket from has conned me? What if my ESTA documents aren’t correctly filled out? What if, if I do get to LA, I can’t pay the taxi fee? What if- what if-
Right now I feel so worried I think that if I do get to LA I will huddle up in the youth hostel (what if it closed down during the Oscars and they didn’t tell me?) and not come out. Not even for Bubba Gump shrimps.
A week or two ago, It truly began to sink in that I was actually going, that I wasn’t going to have any accidents or get an incurable disease or anything that would make it impossible for me to go (not for lack of trying, my bike did get hit by a car and I did get a cold). I was sitting up in bed one morning, staring out of my window, and tried to process what I was feeling. I started writing down what I was feeling in my bedside notebook, which I have for emergencies like these.
I was scared. Worried. Very much worried.
But I also found out that I was determined, because dammit, if there is one thing I love in the world, it’s Middle-earth, and it’ll all be worth it, and if I can do this thing, I will be invincible.
It’s an incredibly corny thing to do, probably, but I turned to my books for courage.
There’s a chapter in Fellowship of the Ring. The fellowship has passed the Argonath, and Aragorn, the newly appointed leader, doesn’t know what he should do, so he lets Frodo decide. Frodo isn’t exactly well-travelled, so he asks for time, and wanders away from the Fellowship. Boromir follows him, and they have an argument.
“I was afraid for you, Frodo,” he said, coming forward. “If Aragorn is right and Orcs are near, then none of us should wander alone, and you least of all: so much depends on you. And my heart too is heavy. May I stay now and talk for a while, since I have found you? It would comfort me. Where there are so many, all speech becomes a debate without end. But two together may perhaps find wisdom.”
Boromir basically goes on, telling his plan; why go through a deadly maze of rocks and marshland if they could go to Gondor, where they have allies, where they’d be safe?
“Are you sure that you do not suffer needlessly?” he said. “I wish to help you. You need counsel in your hard choice. Will you not take mine?”
It’s so tempting. An escape, an easy way out. Let the brave and the strong take the decisions for us. Let them do the fighting. Frodo has already taken the ring far beyond what he thought he’d go to when he stepped out his door, in Bag-end.
“Surely you see it, my friend?” he said, turning now suddenly to Frodo again. “You say that you are afraid. If it is so, the boldest should pardon you. But is it not really your good sense that revolts?”
But Frodo wouldn’t be Frodo if he’d followed Boromir’s advice.
“No, I am afraid,” said Frodo. “Simply afraid. But I am glad to have heard you speak so fully. My mind is clearer now.”
He’s just afraid, nothing more. You can’t be brave without being afraid. He knows in his heart what Boromir’s solution will bring; being stuck in a fortress with no way out, and Boromir succumbing to the One Ring. No; he needs to things the hard way, or no way at all. And that road is scary as hell, but at least it’s right.
I could stay home. Go to work every day. Maybe one day I’ll do one of those trips my mom often does; city trips with a travel agency that’s 90 % sitting on a bus and 10 % seeing places that are swarmed with tourists, where everything is done for you.
But maybe I know in my heart that that’s not the way to travel.
Maybe what I’m about to do tomorrow is scary as hell, but at least it’s right.
"and if I can do this thing, I will be invincible."
ReplyDeleteThis is all you need to know.