“Being in your twenties is hard,” I told one of my housemates the other day. “It’s lonely and isolating and it’s this weird time where we’re coming into ourselves so much more and sometimes that sucks.”
“I do not like it. I do not like it all,” she replied.
— — —
Yet, how can we possibly move forward if we refuse to rise above the things we do not like?
Last Monday, while walking to my first day at a new job, a guy running on the street stopped to tell me I looked lovely. What a way to start off the week and the first day of a new job. Additionally, I had been feeling unusually anxious that morning, so the comment brightened my mood considerably.
That said, it was a bit of a strange occurrence for me. Generally speaking, talking to strangers in passing isn’t the most common thing in our society. That, and the fact that we live in a twenty-first century world where our eyes are glued to our phones most of the time; we make ourselves inaccessible to each other with our technology. So yes, this was a bit of a strange occurrence for me–but I realized I liked it. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if more people spontaneously complimented strangers throughout the day?
I liked this random occurrence so much and I thought it was noteworthy. I proceeded to tell my housemates about it when I got home and, being the millennial I most definitely am, also posted a Snapchat about it. However, I thought nothing much else about the occurrence after the fact. I merely saw it as one more noteworthy-than-average event in a string of random events that happen on a day-to-day basis.
Until Wednesday rolled around.
On Wednesday, I was again walking on the same street on the way to work. I, again, ran across the same guy. My walking to work route appeared to be his morning running route. We saw each other and there was recognition. He waved and then stopped me.
If we were having coffee,I’d start off by saying hi! It’s been a couple very hectic weeks since I’ve joined the coffee share. I moved twice, lived in three different places, and was without wifi for a week. I’ve been preoccupied with getting into my own place, figuring out housemates, and continuing my job search. I’ve been learning a lot at the coffee shop and I’ve been feeling more comfortable (in some respects) with my position there.
If we were having coffee, I’d be delighted to let you know that I’m now officially a resident of the District of Columbia. I was so flustered and nervous when I didn’t have a place by August 1, but my college friend was so accommodating by letting me move in with her to her new place. I spent one week there until my current roommate and I had our DC place secured and ready to move in to. Last Sunday, we moved into a gorgeous, fully furnished house in a great neighborhood. We’ve signed a lease to live here until December, with the intention that we’ll be more settled into DC life then and have a bit more money on our hands to spend on furniture and such for an unfurnished house. For the time being, we are happy in our house for now. I met my roommate on Facebook, in a group for those looking for housing in the DC area, and she’s been great so far. We will have two more roommates joining us in the next month, including my good friend Phoebe, whom I interned with at the National Postal Museum in 2014! I love the way life can throw surprises at you if you allow it. Continue reading “#WeekendCoffeeShare–In Which I Moved…Again”
If we were having coffee, I’d start off by saying, no I haven’t seen Finding Dory. It’s on my list, but I’m far too busy trying to figure my life out to go to the movies. That, and I don’t frequent the movies that often as it is. That said, I am just trying to keep swimming right now, so the post title is a pretty accurate portrayal of my life.
If we were having coffee, we’d still be talking about housing. It’s been a stressful week on my end that’s included multiple house tours with no luck in hearing back from people. I’ve primarily been looking to take over a spot in a shared house, as it is sooo muuccchh cheaaaaper to live with others in the DC area. That said, the housing market is crazy competitive out here and spots fill up really quickly. Also, a lot of shared houses are looking for a certain personality to match the dynamic of the house, which also makes the search more difficult–because if I don’t match the dynamic, I’m just not gonna get the spot. I’d probably be able to secure a studio apartment with a lot more ease, but that would also leave a lot more of a dent in my wallet. I’m continuing to scour the internet like crazy but have accepted that, if nothing shows up within the next couple days, I’m going to secure an Airbnb to live in for the time being once the lease in my current place is up. The lease is up, mind you, Continue reading “#WeekendCoffeeShare–In Which I Just Keep Swimming”
If we were having coffee, the first thing you’d notice is the change of location. Instead of meeting at one of the suburban coffee shops in my hometown, or perhaps an artsy Minneapolis shop with a hipster vibe, we’d be meeting in Arlington, Virginia, at a coffee shop a few blocks down from my temporary residence. I’m currently living with a college friend who was kind enough to let me stay with her while I get situated down here. I’ll be here for a couple weeks while I job search and decide if I should move into D.C. Proper or stay in Arlington. I’m leaning towards Arlington, at least for the time being, because as much as I love D.C., I’ve already lived there. Arlington is so close to everything in the District, but it’s also a new place to see and explore. We’ll see, though. Time will tell.
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I just decided to go. I moved without a job, which is kind of scary, but I’m also confident something will come up soon. I was only applying for jobs in D.C. back in Minnesota and nothing was coming up…so I decided my Continue reading “#WeekendCoffeeShare–In Which I Moved”
The Newbery Award is the highest honor given out for excellence in children’s literature. It is given out annually–The Newbery Medal is given as the highest award and the Newbery Honor is given to a few runner ups.
When I was younger, my dream was to one day become a Newbery Award winner.
As a child, I was a voracious writer. I had this huge ledger book filled with unfinished stories and I was always adding to it, always coming up with new ideas. When I was around seven or eight years old, I wrote a story that was deeply rooted in my love and appreciation for Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Little House on the Prairie series entitled, “Little House in the Hills” (you can really get a sense of how my creative juices were flowing there). When I was around thirteen and fourteen, I actually had the gumption to send my one completed manuscript to a local publisher in the Minneapolis area. The manuscript was kindly rejected with a note from the publisher stating that, while I had promise as a writer, “it just wasn’t what they were looking for.” It was, quite frankly, all for the best as the story itself was a bit on the shaky side. Well. A lot on the shaky side. Let’s just say that it’s safe to say that I’ve improved quite a lot as a writer since then…still, I can’t help but admire my younger self for her determination and drive.
Come high school, my desire to write quickly died away. I took one creative writing class in my freshman year of high school but after that, my dream to write–to become a Newbery Medalist–faded. I was heavily involved with the band program at my high school and was preoccupied with fitting into my friend group. I didn’t think I had time to write and, although I occasionally got out my journal to write lengthy entries about the goings on in my life, I no longer considered myself to be a writer. It wasn’t until my junior year of college that the writer within me reemerged. After breaking off from a serious and very detrimental long-term relationship, I was searching for a way to reclaim my life for myself. I had become so invested in my ex-boyfriend and the relationship that I had with him that I had really lost all sense of myself. Around the time of our break up, memories of the writer I used to be, the writer I dreamed to become, rekindled. I began to realize that writing was, indeed, a part of my identity–a part that I had the misfortune of rejecting for far too many years. With that in mind, I started to a blog–to force myself into the habit of doing one of the things I loved most again and often.
Still, though, throughout the rest of my college career and into my time in Thailand, I never once considered writing to be anything more than a hobby. A hobby that I happened to be really good at, but a hobby none-the-less. I strongly Continue reading “To Focus on Focus”
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I did absolutely nothing of interest this week besides receiving seven measly dollars in return for a bagful of old CDs and books that I brought in to sell at Half Priced Books. When I first went up to the counter to receive my bid, I thought the employee said $37, which I was going to be rather surprised and gleeful about. Alas, though, when I looked at the receipt, that $7 couldn’t be mistaken for anything else–as it gazed up at me with what I swear was a smirk.
I must admit, I wasn’t expecting much from this load given most of the books dated from the early 2000’s–and given that the majority of the world doesn’t even listen to CDs anymore. I mean, even the ever so popular iPod is out of date these days with the emergence of music streaming. Even still, I was optimistically hoping for at least an even $10. Oh, woe is me! Though, I suppose, life will go on…
If we were having coffee, I would tell you that I have spent the majority of this week searching and applying for jobs in the D.C. area.
It’s an incredibly good feeling, knowing that you did the right thing for yourself regardless of how hard it was or how difficult it was to get there.
As I watched the plane I was on for the first length of my journey back to the States take off from Suvarnabhumi Airport in Bangkok a handful of days ago, I was overcome with a burst of emotion and I started to cry. They were brief tears. They didn’t last long. But they were tears none-the-less.
It’s really hard to explain my feelings toward Thailand. How, at times, while I was living there, I hated it. How unhappy I was while I was living there. How I couldn’t wait to leave when I was preparing for my two week trip to Europe in mid-March.
While in Europe, the friend I was visiting with gave me some really good advice. At that point, I was still feeling a lot of animosity towards Thailand for the hardships I experienced while living there; I was more than happy to be spending time on European soil. I was telling her how much Continue reading “The View from Home”