Two steps forward, one step back

For the past month or so, I’ve been living at my parents’ house in Connecticut. It’s weird moving back to a place that I haven’t lived in for 5 years. So much is different and yet so much the same. It really forces me to reflect on how much I’ve changed and grown as a person, and reminds me that I could never be complacent going back to living in the suburbs at this point in my life.

I think the most difficult transition so far has been the pace of daily life. Moving from one of the fastest, busiest places in the world where there was always something to do, to one that’s incredibly slow with limited entertainment options has been tough, to say the least. It doesn’t help that I’m broke, have no car or job and sit around incredibly bored all the time. On the upside, I have a lot of time to devote to researching South Korea and looking at jobs, talking to recruiters, etc. This was my plan and how I intended to spend my time here, however I really thought I’d be getting ready to leave by this point.

My family is thrilled to have me home. I spend a lot of quality time with my parents, and I’m even getting along amazingly well with my sister. I do love spending time with them, especially knowing that once I am overseas, it’ll be a very long time until I get to see them again. So I’m trying to cherish the limited time I have with them, despite my growing impatience to get on with my life.

I had a few offers from schools – one in Busan and one in Yangsan, both of which I turned down. There were too many inconsistencies and uncertainties. So, I’m still waiting for a job I can confidently say yes to. Finding a good hagwon that won’t screw you over is like finding a needle in a haystack. Or so it seems. My friend’s recruiter told me that there’s a bit of a job shortage in Busan right now because summer is still winding down. He believes more jobs should open up come mid-September. I can only hope he’s right! I am ready to go!

Until then, I’ll continue to enjoy free home-cooked meals, movie nights on the couch with my parents, and Saturday shopping dates with Mom. It’s the least I can do to maintain my sanity.

to everything there is a season and a time for every purpose, under heaven

It is time. Time for a lot of things in Angela’s life, but altogether, it’s a time for change.

Naturally, I’d say that a lot of people fear change, and let’s face it – change can be scary. It’s the unpredictability, the not knowing what will happen, the divergence from your day-to-day routine. I think that’s why many people remain complacent and comfortable in their lives, even though they might be unhappy. They don’t want to change because that would mean uncertainty, something different that might be worse…but might be better too?

I think I naturally crave change. If life becomes too stagnant, too predictable, I get the urge to do something big, something different. Shake things up a bit. And that’s why I’ve decided to go teach English in South Korea for the next year. It’s a bold move, probably the wildest one I’ve made yet in all of my 26 years. It will mark many firsts for me. It will be the first time I live in another country. It will be the first time I’m this far away from all of my family and friends for a significant period of time. It will be the first time I teach in a classroom, and it will be the first time I live completely on my own in my own apartment.

It’s hard to believe that I’ve lived in New York for 3 years now. Where does the time go? Lately, I’ve been pondering the thought that this might be the last time I ever live in New York City. Who knows where my life may take me next? It’s bittersweet. I feel like New York is one of those places that if you come into it knowing what you want from it – opportunities abound and the city is your oyster. When I moved here, I had a plan and a goal and I achieved everything I wanted. I was happier than a pig in shit. No other place in the world could have offered me the experiences and challenges that this city has. However, conversely, if you’re in New York without a plan, lacking direction, it can eat you alive. New York is both your best friend and your greatest enemy. And right now, for me, it’s just too damn expensive. Every day feels like a struggle. So maybe one day, when I have my life back on track with a fresh set of goals and plans – I’ll return to New York with a new perspective and the doors will once again open for me. Or if I don’t return, I can at least look back on these times as some of the greatest in my young life: outdoor pool parties in the summer, live music, rooftop bbqs with friends and a breath-taking city skyline view, stumbling home at 5am after a wild night of bar-hopping and non-stop dancing, exploring city parks, riding the rides at coney island or running on the beach at night in the winter, riding a motorcycle through manhattan, boat rides on the Hudson/East River, fireworks from rooftops on the 4th of July, specialty slices at Vinnie’s, Irish iced coffees and people-watching at Enids, day-long drink-a-thons with your friends on a Sunday, living in Williamsburg – one of the hippest neighborhoods in New York, being a part of something bigger than yourself and loving every second of it.

New York will always hold a special place in my heart, but for right now it’s time for change. My nomad friend Dave from Boston said something interesting to me the other day that I really resonated with. He said, “Ang, you and I, we were meant for bigger things. We’re unlike everybody else. We live for the adventure.” And he’s right. I do. Should life be anything but an adventure?

Plans

I recently had a conversation with a friend about this book she was reading called “A New Earth” by Eckhart Tolle. Apparently it’s on Oprah’s Book Club list and it’s some seriously dense reading. One of the main points is that humans have a habit of living their lives in the past and future (feeding our ever-expanding egos) and neglecting to experience life in the present moment.

It really got me thinking. While it’s important to learn from the past and set goals for the future, many of us live each day dwelling in the past and worrying about the future. So often we take for granted the precious days that we have. We forget to live in the now.

However, I believe that I am a very present person. While I do tend to romanticize and idealize the past, I do also learn from it and move forward a stronger, more self-aware person. And concerning the future…well I’ve never been one to be big on plans. Short-term goals have brought me to where I am today due to indecision about my future. I can say with confidence though that every short-term goal that I’ve had, I’ve reached in some way. 

But I’m finding in these current days of unemployment and indecision that there are some bigger picture things I can see myself doing. It’s weird for me to think about my future self, because I’ve always been one to live in the now and I’ve never really known what it is that I want for my future. And despite Tolle’s criticism of humans putting too much pressure on their futures (which I do agree with), I am finding that it is important to have long-term future goals. 

I’ve been seeing job positions and even intern positions that ask for a 25 point qualification list. There was one I looked at today for a position as a Group Leader for high school students through a program called “The Experiment In International Living.” The application is 14 pages long! Needless to say, I’m not quite there yet but I want to be! 

I can envision myself doing these jobs and absolutely loving them. But first I need to gain the skills to be eligible. So that is what I am working on trying to find – a position at an organization that will build my skills and prepare me for the jobs I want to be eligible for. I don’t have experience working with high school kids and who knows if I’d even enjoy it, but it’s something I want to at least try right now.

Tuesday I have a phone interview with Harlem Success Academy Charter School. I applied a little over 3 weeks ago for a couple different positions – Assistant Teacher and Educational Assistant. I would be working with little ones again, probably kindergarten or first grade. I’m thrilled that they picked me for an interview and I’m anxious and eager to learn more about the two positions. But I have to admit that I’m a little apprehensive. While I know I’d make a great teacher, I want to be sure that whichever position I choose, it’s in accordance with my own personal views on education. 

My views on education are radically different than the way most schools conduct their curriculum. To me education is all about experience and hands-on learning. This is the best way that I learn and I want to be in an environment that follows that same learning style. All of my favorite classes growing up involved group think and group discussions. The teacher invited the class to participate in discussion rather than lecture about subject matter. The classes that were taught through a wash, rinse, repeat method are the ones I vaguely remember. I want to be challenged to think on my own, come up with my own answers, and voice my own opinion. And I want to be able to give others that opportunity to do the same. This is why I wonder if I’d be better off working with older kids. 

Luckily New York City has a plethora of schooling options for the kids that live here. Everything from technology to the arts to politics to becoming a global citizen. There really is a school for everything and everyone. I just need to feel confident in my choices from here on out. I’m only getting older and I want to love what I do by the time I’m 30. 

I still think it’s important to live in the present, but now I need to focus my short-term goals into the needed experience to achieve my long-term goals.

a hot cup of coffee

So tonight I had one of those strangely ironic nights, when everything sort of comes together in a way that makes you stop and question everything about the way you live your life.

The night started when I met up with a friend for cheap yet delicious Venezuelan food at Caracas, one of our favorite spots to grab a bite. I made a decent chunk of money at work last night and figured I could afford to treat myself a bit, so afterwards we headed over to Veniero’s for authentic Italian dessert. I had the tiramisu, which was divine, and a Cafe Frangelico, hence the reason I am restless and awake at almost 2am. Since I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping for awhile, we decided to see a movie over at Village East Cinema. “Confessions Of A Shopaholic” was playing and we were sold (pun completely intended).

The movie was adorable and a typical chick flick – playful, predictable and about as sweet as the delicious desserts we enjoyed earlier. I bounced out of the theater with a warm, fuzzy feeling and a smile on my face, despite the snowstorm going on around me.

However, as I was walking down 2nd Ave to the train, I paused at about 4th or 5th street. A man was shoving himself through the snow in his wheelchair…with the one leg he had. He struggled a bit to turn himself around as the wheels of his chair slid from the slush. I stopped walking and looked back at him as he tried to push himself up onto the sidewalk.  I walked back towards him and asked if he needed any help. He grumbled something incoherent, as he continued to push with his leg. Without further hesitation, I grabbed the handle of his wheel chair and yanked him up onto the sidewalk. I then asked him which direction he was headed, figuring I could do him one further and turn him in that direction.  

“No particular direction,” he mumbled. “I’m homeless.”

“Oh,” I replied, a bit dumbfounded. “Well try to stay warm tonight, okay?”

He looked up at me, his big blue eyes staring into mine. “You know what would warm me up would be a hot cup of coffee.”

“You got it,” I said and headed to the corner deli to fulfill his wish. I got him a large hot cup of coffee and a giant blueberry muffin and headed back outside into the blizzard. He was sitting under a store awning, attempting to light a cigarette. 

I stood in front of him, waiting to hand him his coffee, as he bent over his lap. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I noticed he smelled like maybe he had shit himself. “You okay?” I asked and he mumbled back, “I hope so.”

As I handed him the muffin and coffee, I noticed that his hands were swollen, cracked, and blistered. You learn a lot from a person’s hands. His told me a story of struggling to survive, but using the best tools he has to get by. Literally.

He thanked me for the food and coffee and I wished him a good night, realizing afterwards that he probably won’t considering we’re expected to get 8 inches to a foot of snow tonight. I said a prayer for him then, hoping God will keep him safe.

I continued on my way to the train, but I no longer felt bouncy and happy. My heart broke for that man. Normally I would feel good about doing a favor for someone who needed it. But all I felt was pity and sadness. And then I realized I didn’t even bother to ask how he took his coffee. I could’ve asked him his name. He is, after all, a person like you or me. He has a story, and I began to wonder how he got to where he is today. How did he lose his leg? His job? His family? His life? 

I had just watched this movie about a girl who is addicted to shopping. She selfishly spends herself into enormous debt on things she doesn’t need, and almost loses everything and everyone in her life. After helping that man, I realized how good I really have it. I may not have a job, but I have a roof over my head and food to put in my belly. Right now that man is sitting outside in his wheelchair in the middle of a blizzard, while I sit in my warm bed typing on my Mac computer. I honestly don’t know whether he’ll live or die. He probably doesn’t either. 

American society has taught us to need the material things that are actually merely wants. Like the people that comprise it, this country spends and spends and spends, and never stops to think about what that money is going towards. And now we are seriously paying for it. Debt is a massive problem. Everyone I know is in debt, including myself. Why do we feel the need to spend so much of what we don’t have on things that we don’t need? More importantly, how often do we stop to consider those who really have nothing?  Their wants actually ARE real needs. 

After a night of eating out and spending money on a movie about spending too much money, the two dollars and seventy-two cents I spent in that deli were the best thing I could’ve put my money towards. 

I hope the coffee keeps him warm.

that teenage feeling

i’ve always been the one to hold out for it. always.
when i get that feeling about someone (which is special and rare, unfiltered, completely defenseless, and risky), i jump in with both feet. it usually ends in disappointment and heartbreak, but it’s always been completely worth it, if only to share that feeling with someone. in that moment, for however long or short. (closet romantic has just come out). 

i haven’t been in a ‘relationship’ in quite a while now.

people have said that i’m too picky.
people have told me that my standards…well they’re just too damn high.
they say, “you should date more.” “give the guy a chance.” 

recently, i’ve been trying to do things differently. i’ve gone on more dates in the last 6 months than i probably ever have in my life. i’m trying to open myself up to other options. not lowering my standards, but giving the guy a chance to meet them. although so far…i don’t think it’s working out so well. sure, the attention is nice and it’s been fun and all. i’m glad i’ve tried something different. i like to think i’m pretty open-minded and down to try almost anything once. but the way i see it, is if it’s not there, than it’s just not there. i know people who have grown on each other and are now in love, which is wonderful. i just don’t see that really happening for myself.  

why waste your time on someone that doesn’t immediately give you that feeling the second you lock eyes with him?
you know, that teenage feeling.
the tingling sensation you get all over your body, as if your nerves are literally about to explode from your skin. your heartbeat, like a freight train. your tongue, suddenly too big for your mouth. words sounding sloppy and tripping over one another to come out, accompanied by nervous laughter. when he touches your skin, it burns like fire. 

the feeling that when you’re with that person, you could do absolutely nothing at all and be happy as long as he’s there.
of course that doesn’t stop you from wanting to do and go everywhere together and take on the world. 
he loves the things that you do, and he makes you laugh like nobody else really can. when he looks at you, he actually sees you. and you see the best of yourself through his eyes. 
he makes you feel empowered instead of powerless, encouraged instead of discouraged. he’s supportive in everything you say and do whether he agrees with it or not. he’s confident – not only in you, but in himself. he allows you to maintain your independence because he himself is independent too. your friends adore him. your family adores him. 

this is what i want. what i’ll have. one day.
that teenage feeling and beyond.
because i can have it all.  
and i’ll continue to wait until i find it.

art star

it sounds like there’s a rave going on upstairs right now. that’s what you get when you mix not one, but two neighbors who are DJs and paper thin/poorly insulated walls. awesome! 

anyway, it’s been awhile since i’ve written anything. i really want to be better about this, because i actually enjoy writing. i just don’t do nearly enough of it. tonight i was just having a conversation about how when i was little i used to be so imaginative and creative. i wrote my own stories and kept journals. i had sketchbooks filled with drawings and illustrations. i was a part of art club all through school. art was something i seriously loved and enjoyed, and it allowed me to express myself in a number of different ways. somewhere along the way, i sort of just…stopped. stopped making art. and i can’t really figure out why. sure i took photo classes in college, something i really want to continue to pursue this year once i get the money to afford a new camera. and i took a course in travel writing, which was both good and disappointing. my last job allowed me to get creative with music (kind of…), but overall, over the last few years, i’ve felt pretty detached from the artistic and creative part of myself. why didn’t i ever continue with art? why wasn’t i an art star?

is it sheer laziness? is it a lack of stimulation? or perhaps over-stimulation? (i feel a bit over-stimulated/distracted as i type this with club sandstorm going on upstairs, canned laughter from some tv sitcom going on downstairs, and of course my own music trying to drown it all out). 

there’s the argument of whether or not as we get older we tend to lose our childlike imaginations. i think that like anything else, it takes work to keep it up otherwise, it really does go away. i also think that as we get older, we become jaded – we experience more which tunes us in to the harsh realities of life. our imaginations become dulled like old pennies.

i guess what i’m wondering is…can we get that back? once its lost, can it be recovered? i have art supplies and it sounds silly but i’m scared to use them. i’m scared that whatever i make will seriously suck. the perfectionist part of me wants it all to be perfect of course, but maybe i shouldn’t be so hard on myself.

fresh start

it’s ironic that the title of this post is “fresh start” when i’ve been sitting here staring at the blinking cursor wondering just how and where to begin…

new beginnings are exciting, but they are also terrifying. it’s like the feeling you get when you’re at the top of the roller-coaster. you’re staring down at the impending doom below you, your heart is in your throat, and yet you can’t wait to take the first dive because you know it’s the best part of the ride. 

these past few weeks, it finally began to sink in that i’m not going back to the job that i quit 4 months ago. i’ve prolonged my time there long enough and now it’s finally time to venture out into something different. the scary part is that i don’t know what that something is yet. i’m officially unemployed and taking a little vacation from the working world (not for too long of course, bills still gotta get paid). and while i know i’ve been in this place before, the scenery is definitely different. 

i had a little meltdown while i was home in connecticut for the holidays, the good kind of meltdown where you sit on your bed with your mom and just talk for hours. there were lots of tears, lots of hugs, lots of laughs, and the kind of reassurance and encouragement that only a mother can provide. she reminded me of the reasons why i left my job in the first place, and praised me for moving forward because most people are too afraid to leave what’s comfortably miserable. she also reminded me of how thankful i am to have such a loving family who supports me in everything that i do. 

as the year 2008 ends, so does another chapter in my unpredictable life. what’s amazing to me is not only how fast this year went by, but also what a tough one it has been. every year has its emotional hurdles, but this one in particular really seemed to take it up a notch. i’ve dealt with many challenges, some disappointing, some rewarding and i’ve certainly learned a lot, mostly about myself – who i am, who i’m not, what i want, what i don’t want. i’ve seen people come and go in and out of my life, and realized how important every single experience you share with someone is. because you don’t know when that time spent could be your last. i’ve realized that change is inevitable – you can either fight it or embrace it (it’s better to embrace it). 

all in all, i’m ready to face 2009 a stronger, better person.