When Did I Suddenly Become Old?

"When she said they'd mentioned marriage, I was a bit surprised but then I realized she was 23."

"She's 24 mom. 24. I'm 23."

"Yes, yes, well, anyway, at that age it's not so strange at all."

"Well, for me it is. Having had only one boyfriend I would truly count, I'm hardly in the position to start thinking marriage let alone long-term relationship."

"Who? Ryan? He doesn't count!"

"Great, so I've had no real relationships and my girlfriends are all getting married. Fabulous!"

This is how my break has been thus far. I'm surrounded by girlfriends who are either married, thinking of marriage, or in long-term relationships. It makes me question myself a bit. Why is it that don't seem to connect with anyone and why is it that, at this point in my life, having to deal with someone else's issues and trying to fit him into my life just doesn't sound feasible or fun? Am I late to mature or simply too selfish to commit myself to anyone? I don't suppose I like either answer but no matter what it is, I feel old.

But how can you commit when you can't even commit to your life? I want to live in New York one minute and San Francisco the next. I want to have a glamorous job today and tomorrow I want to work for a non-profit. I want to go out to fancy bars every weekend this month and next month I only want to rock climb and hike. If I don't know myself, how can I expect anyone to know me. Which leads to the question, when will I ever know myself? Am I too dynamic, too ever-changing, to ever settle down as "myself"?

Writing Topic

In the disparity of my current situation, I find myself searching desperately for writing opportunities to muster yet another by-line. This leads me to a multitude of subjects I have never considered before. Most recently I submitted a brief personal essay on what home is so me and now I find myself blustering through ideas for a longer personal essay.

When I hear the term personal essay, I can only think of writing an essay on my own life, which in turn means I can really only think of writing about my struggle to find a place where I belong. How is this of any interest?

Everyone struggles after college, searching for that ever elusive "purpose" we dream of finding while in college. Well, for those of us who didn't discover our purpose in college, it doesn't just hit us when we graduate either. I've been out of school for a year and a half and I still have yet to discover my purpose. My list of likes and dislikes has continued to grow, however, my ultimate goals in life still elude me.

So what can I deduce at this point?

- I like to write but I rarely have time.

- I like to read but hardly find myself reading except when on the subway.

- I love to be artistic but haven't the space to create.

- I like money (this sounds ridiculously vain but, to be honest, I'm tired of struggling to pay rent, feed myself and my dog, and grab the occasional beer).

- I like the outdoors but not all the time (ruling out the career choice of ranger).

- I like open, friendly, team-oriented environments.

- I dislike working in an environment that has me fearing for my job daily.

- Music is what makes my life complete.

What does this tell me about myself? Ultimately, I need a 30 hour day. Either that or I need to marry a rich man. Neither of these are plausible and the last is rather reprehensible.

Where does this leave me? Back where I started. Continue to work, continue to write if I can find the time, continue to read, get back to art when it's spring and I can use the roof, find some small way to make money in the meantime.

Underlying my every day life will continue to be a question I have been asking myself for the past eight months. When is it right to take the next leap in life? When should I let go and move on? Recently, a friend of mine who found herself less than pleased with her occupation and city quit her job and, upon checking her email that evening, discovered she had the internship she'd applied for. She quit first and was hired second.

Can I do that? Can I abandon a paycheck in an uncertain economy? When I graduated it was easy to leap. I landed on my feet. But now I have my feet on solid ground, if slightly cracked. How can I know when it is right to jump off it? Is there ever a right time to jump or is it simply that one must jump and deal with the consequences?

Superstitious, I believe also in fate. If I am laid off, I will return to Portland and begin searching for jobs in San Francisco. The choice is easy. I will do what I must. But with a current job, the choice becomes more difficult. Can I really justify leaving my current situation if I don't have another job and if I have no idea if I will even be happy doing the work I'm looking into? How can I ascertain if I will be happy in the next phase of my life?

In the end, is it simply balls to the walls and see what happens? Or is it play it safe and maybe happiness will follow someday?

Wriggling and Niggling

It's completely incomprehensible, wriggling in the back of your mind, controlling your desires, your actions, your memories. Deja vu. It's rare that I feel an overwhelmingly powerful sense of it but today, while walking home from work, I could not escape this feeling.

I relaxed, riding a sense of ease when suddenly I felt a need to do something. I knew not what but I knew there was something. Something I was supposed to be doing. Being unable to do what I knew I must, I felt a clutching at my heart. Was it deja vu, fate? Was there something I was supposed to be doing at that exact moment that would decide the rest of my life?

Whatever fateful event was meant to take place on 10th st, a street a walk twice a day every day, didn't because I never remembered/realized what I was meant to do.

Lost and Found

I finally found it.

My group.


This entire time in New York I've had different groups of friends, different individual friends, but I've never had my group. I've never had people who I knew I could rely on no matter what. The closest I came to that was with my Colby boys (and look how well that turned out). This weekend I finally found a group of girls I can turn to for anything and who are absolutely amazing, beautiful women. They are strong, intelligent, driven, and kind. I could not have imagined a more wonderful group.

Ironically, at least three of us are plotting moves to California in the near future and Amy is moving to Maine come January, but for now we are all together. What was meant to be a quick holiday book club meeting on Saturday night evolved into a 6 hour event in which we gushed, giggled, screamed, and sang (Spice Girls-there is no good explanation for this).

Following the fun fest, I wandered home and found my mood darkening. A late night "booty call" quickly had me heating up and finally, after having refused to meet up, I called the guy out on it. He asked me how I knew it was a booty call, to which I said, "honestly, isn't it?" He admitted it was and that was that. When did it become acceptable for men to treat women that way? I'm not asking to be wined and dined. All I'm asking, is if you want my attention, my time, my kisses, if you want me in any way, you call ahead of time to say you are hoping to meet up or would like to meet up. You do not call after midnight. End of story.

This morning, dealing with wine hangovers, Amy, Paige, and I decided the best cure was the hair of the dog that bit us (plus shopping), so we met up at Columbus Circle where we meandered a Christmas bizarre and grabbed a quick bite to eat with cocktails. It sounds horrendously childish to say it, but I felt like an adult. I had a lovely meal out with my girlfriends and did some shopping. Perhaps it's hanging out with Paige, who is completely put together and married, but something about the afternoon seemed mature, respectable, and all and all, grown up.

This weekend I lost my respect for men but I found my niche.

Work Ethic

Every time I sit down to apply for jobs I run into the same problem: work ethic. I have a work ethic but I get easily frustrated by my writing and inevitably refuse to send out any job applications because I don't deem my cover letters worthy. Well, this cycle prevents any hope of me finding a job.

Back in the day I dated a guy who would not submit his essays because he didn't think they represented his writing well. I mocked him - completely lost in this concept. A deadline is a deadline. It must be met. Not turning in an assignment was never an option. But now, without deadlines, I find I face the same issue. I refuse to "produce" something that isn't quite perfect. But at what point must I face the fact that maybe I can't produce something that is perfect? Maybe this "almost quality" is the best I can produce? So when will I admit that I just have to give up and submit my work rather than dreaming of perfection?

The answer is not today...still working, still striving, still dreaming...

Decisions

As my job becomes steadily more and more unsteady, I form back up plans left and right, struggling to find the simplest solution to quite possibly the most difficult life road block I've come across thus far. What do you do when you lose your source of income and can't afford the only life you know?

Moving may appear irrational but without income, a credit card debt, and a dog....

but what is one to do?

Distortions, Fantasies, and Escape Plans

I think I've realized my life is never going to be the life I fantasize about.

In my fantasy, I love my job. I get paid lots of money to follow my bliss. I make a difference in the world for the better. I come home to a spacious apartment/cottage and enjoy the company of my well behaved dog. I explore the outdoors but enjoy going out as well. More importantly, I can afford to do both. In my fantasy I meet a guy and we instantly click and the connection is undeniable. We are both addicted instantly. The End.

In my world, I hate my job once again. I battle the forces that are trying to eliminate my position due to budget cuts and, thus, have to pretend I love my job. I get paid nothing and am constantly strapped for cash. I make the rich richer and the poor poorer (except in this economy the rich are losing money by the buckets). I come home to my tiny room and a dog that has decided to take out his resentment on me by pissing or shitting after I take him out on his walk. I never see the outdoors, unless you count the sidewalks of NYC. I go out sometimes, but rarely have the funds to. In my reality I meet a guy and think, he'll do. He's not great but he's nice. He's company. We're both mutually unimpressed and decide to end it for both of our sakes. The End.

In my reality, I have to face facts and start planning my escape. Being laid off appears inevitable, which makes remaining in NYC impossible. Westbound. But where to? And can I find a job? With the global economy in turmoil, jobs are rare. With only a year of experience under my belt, I am still indistinguishable from the masses who apply every day. So how can I turn fantasy into reality? Is it even possible?

I'll take a lesson from a puppet. I will find my purpose. The first step is discovering your bliss. Thank you Avenue Q!