I Wish I Knew

I find myself saying the above rather a lot lately.
Sometimes it is in answer to the kindly-meant yet oh-so-annoying queries about what my plans are for the future. All the other times it is one of many not-so-helpful phrases that chase each other around the inside of my head until I make the probably rash decision to blog about it. Go me.


I don't have a plan anymore.
I was a student. (Alas, poor Yorick!)
I was a nanny. (That was great, but, again...done for now.)
I try to work. (That doesn't get much farther than the kind-hearted family friends who pity me and thus allow me to watch their dogs for long weekends.)
I read a lot.
I research schools in half a dozen fields until I don't even know why I looked them up in the first place.
I job hunt on every website I've ever heard of until my eyes feel like they'll fall out, only to realize that I am unqualified for 90% of them. All the others would require me to move to Kansas.


(Insert appropriately descriptive yet forceful expletive of your choice here)


Thus, in a effort to distract myself from life for a while and perhaps even gain some perspective on my current situation I did what any self-respecting youth of my generation would do: I popped some popcorn and settled in to watch a classic of the John Hughes persuasion, St. Elmo's Fire, one of my personal favorites in any case and all the more now that I can personally identify with its characters (god help me.) Oh, and if you haven't seen it, shame on you and before you read any further I insist you go rent it and watch it for yourself. If you have a soul and a healthy apprciation for all things 80s I know you'll love it. 


During the course of the film a group of post-collegiate friends attempt to navigate the rocky road of adult life and at a key moment near the end Rob Lowe's character describes St. Elmo's Fire as "flashes of light that appear in dark skies out of nowhere. Sailors would guide entire journeys by it, but the joke was on them. There was no fire. There wasn't even a St. Elmo...They made it up because they thought they needed it to keep them going when times got tough."


Well, I won't lie. I wouldn't mind a little flash of St. Elmo's Fire in my life right about now. For like the character of Jules, I too confess to feeling oh so tired. I never thought I'd be so tired at 23. It almost makes me sad, knowing that never again in my life am I going to have the "opportunities" that I do right now. I simple wish they would look a little less like dead ends with caution tape and signs that say DANGER and a little more like friendly fuzzy woodland creatures who have come to help me clean up my life. 


Therefore...


Now Hiring: 
Life Coach (aka Fairy Godmother, aka Talking Tree, aka Giver of Guidance and Jell-O Shots, aka Rob Lowe circa 1985)


Duties: 
(1) Using divine oracle or any other means necessary, provide sound advise and sage counsel in the matter(s) of one's occupational future, geographic settlement options,  edification and directional determination thereof, financial stabilization, etc. 
(2) Stick around long enough to witness the fruition of one or more of the above. 
(3) If applicable, kick one's ass to achieve appropriate outcome.


Qualifications: 
(1) Must embrace insomnia, sarcasm, BBC movie marathons, Bob Dylan, and the potential consumption of copious amounts of mint chip ice cream. 
(2) Must have experience with procrastination (documentation of successful conquest preferred). 
(3) Must have read (and loved to the point of impropriety) Bohumil Hrabal's Too Loud A Solitude.


Compensation: 
Ah, there's the rub.


Applications are now being accepted. 
Thank you for your consideration.

There and Back Again

"Well, I'm back." - Samwise Gamgee


I recently returned from my latest adventure. I left my temporary post as nanny and cook and driver and housekeeper and teacher and confidant and humble guest of the family Bruesch and made my way home again. I find myself, not unlike Tolkien's gardening Hobbit in many ways, to be changed because of it, yet somewhat unable to articulate just what happened in full detail to each who inquire.


In many ways I am glade to be done as I can now enjoy a few creature comforts that were unavailable to me for a while:

- I no longer have to ration my q-tips, my body wash, or strategically plan when and how to do my laundry. 

- I have the constant company and comfort of my cat, as well as the family dog.

- I have unending electricity with which to charge my computer and phone and ipod...all at the same time.

- I have unlimited access to Starbucks Chai tea and Subwich subs.

- I can read menus again and need not consult Google Translate before trying to use a cookbook or packaged instructions! 

While I reconnect will all of these wonderful luxuries I also want to be mindful of the benefits of my experience and those of "a simple life" in particular. I know I can't recreate the little life I had in Malix, but at the very least I intend to embrace the advent of the new year and thus send this, my "resolution," out into the great wide web: It is my hope that I will be able to identify and incorporate those aspects of European living that appeal to me into this, my American Life. Specifically I intend to focus on the following:

- A little more order. (No, that's not it...not exactly...I want rhythm. I want a slower feel to my life than that which I knew in college and in all the years before or since.)

- A little less fear. (I don't know if it's just me, but it seems that as Americans we are given far more than our fair dose of suspicion and caution and prejudice and just-enough-knowledge-to-scare-rather-than-inform us. I feel that this fear creates division between those who could learn a lot from and teach a lot to one another, if only we had the patients so to do.)

- A splash of productivity. (Not too much, for fear of being consumed with the desire for money-making or application-sending or blog-writing. Rather, I desire a pursuit that will render me of use to myself and to my fellow man.)


-A touch of "challenge." (Maybe not the kind that requires 72-hour cram sessions or getting ill-tempered children to finish their math homework, but part of me nevertheless desires to have the element of puzzles to be solved and tasks to be completed back in my life.)

- Liberal amounts of confidence and courage, preferably in equal measure. (Not that there is something intrinsically confident about Europeans...oh, wait... Regardless, I wish merely to provide myself with strength enough to endure whatever lies ahead, for like Tolkein's brave little gardener, I have no aspirations of grandeur save those of a job well done. Now I just have to find said job...) 


Overall though, this past year has provided me with a great many adventures and hilarious moments. It is therefore my sincere hope that the coming year brings with it no less than the year before. And to all of you, my dear readers, I thank you for the part you have played in those momentous adventures. As Mr. Frodo would say, "I am glad to be with you."