London Calling

When I dropped out of high school and got my GED I honestly didn’t think I would go to college. I was hoping to find something I loved to do for a living, even if I didn’t know what it was, and live a comfortable existence somewhere and anywhere but where I am now with people I love. But I changed my mind.

Life always has a way of surprising people. It’s a cliché expression, but a truthful one. It always seems to show you things that were right in front of your face, reveal people, or facts, that were so blaringly obvious for such a long time you feel idiotic for not seeing them sooner. Maybe it’s not life, or any grand universal plan actually revealing itself, but the human conscious finally catching up with what the subconscious already knew.

I was beginning to change my mind about college about four months ago. And one day when I was talking to a friend, I asked him what major he thought I would pick if I ever went to college, and he answered spot on with either History or Archaeology. Both of those subjects are passions of mine, I couldn’t even tally the number of books on my Amazon wish list or all of the documentaries I’ve watched on the Discovery and History channel even if I you gave me several hours.

Gradually my mind began to change about going to university (and I say university because there is no way I’m going to pay $10,000+ per year at an American college when I could pay £3500- per year at a European university). So I decided to make the “adult decision,” I like to call it the first adult decision I’ve made in my life, and I called off Paris. No learning the locals’ French, no French bread, no French parks, no French museums, no France, and no Paris.

Heartbroken and severely torn were a few words I could use to describe the first few weeks of internal debate before I decided that perusing my degree was the right thing to do. So I told my mother, who made me laugh when she seemed more heartbroken than I did, and decided to find my future school.

Fast forward and I had chosen UCL (University College London). I smiled at myself as I realized I had made a full circle back to my 12 year old self who was determined she would go to college in London and “do something awesome with my life!” For a while I was unsure with which degree I wanted to pursue, UCL isn’t like American colleges where you have 2 years to get through your general classes and then 2 years to finish your major, it was either 3 years of History or 3 years of Archaeology. I settled on Archaeology – how couldn’t I with the classes they offer? Past societies, Introduction to Roman Archaeology, Introduction to European Prehistory, Early Medieval Archaeology in Britain, The Emergence and Spread of Modern Humans, etc. etc. etc. I could continue going on and on.

But for weeks now the History buff inside of me has been so conflicted. It’s like playing tug-of-war with my brain and I have to make a decision fast. Because my grades weren’t as spectacular as they could have been in high school I decided to take earn my AA in a subject, and I decided since I love history so much I would earn my AA in American History. That way I could do spectacular, have a professor write the required letter of recommendation, and I could go on to earn my BA in Archaeology.

Only now I don’t know whether or not I want to earn my BA in History or my BA in Archaeology and I’m so, so conflicted. I called several friends and all none of them could give me any advice that really helped. But it was my mother who suggested Paris. Because what broadens your perspective more than travel? I was too confused and undecided to tell her that I had been put off at the idea of au-pairing because of my dislike for small children, but then an idea popped in my head.

3 month Eurail pass - $1500
3 months of cheap but “it’ll do” hostels - $500
3 months of spending money - $500

Me, myself and I traveling to all 30 countries the Eurail passes through for 3 months. Surely after that I would be able to make a decision I know I wouldn’t regret afterwards. Surely then I could finally put myself on the track to London towards whatever I decided.

The key is saving every cent I make or can that I can steal from homeless men from now on until February. Surely I can do that…

My Bucket List

Things To Do Before They Burn My Body and Scatter the Ashes

• Rescue 3 special-needs dogs
• Own my own chocolate shop
• Go to University and obtain a PhD in Anthropology or History
• Guest lecture at a University
• Have two books published
• Live in Spain
• Live in Iceland
• Live in England
• Live in the Ukraine
• Live in Germany
• Live in France
• Backpack across every European country (Except Russia!)
• Become fluent in at least 5 languages other then my own
• Shave my head - done!
• MMF, FFM
• Find a partner to spend the rest of my life with
• Be happy with myself, my appearance and my body for once in my life
• Do things that scare the crap out of me
• Learn the cello
• Learn the guitar
• Read 3,000 books
• Do shrooms or LSD once
  
  

My first blog post!

I've had a Livejournal since I was fourteen years-old, almost four years! It's been a place where I can share my utmost secretive thoughts, ideas and feelings to people who - over the years - have become my "Internet friends," and some (Tally boo) who have just become "friends." It's so easy to be one-hundred percent candid with people who know and don't know you, with people who are willing to offer words of advice, cheer and understanding without any judgement. Up until now I've been too afraid to share much - if any - of my true feelings with my family. Scared of being labeled "weird," I've kept them to myself, only sharing them with my Livejournal buddies. But almost a year ago I moved to Chicago from California (holy shit was that some winter) and in a way I began to miss my family. I missed going over to my Tia Hope's house and hanging out with my cousin's. I missed my Nana and my Papu. I missed my Tia Martha and her bbq's, spending time with my entire family, the food, the laughter from the women that I'm sure you could hear from down the street, my Uncle Mike, tipsy...well drunk, dancing to his oldies. And although I'm certainly not going to be as candid about life as I am in my Livejournal - we all need secrets - I'm dipping my toes into the blog spot world, and finally sharing a big part of myself with my family and friends back home. Here's to hoping I don't disappoint!

Like I said, it's been almost four years I've kept a journal online. Almost. In one-hundred-and-fifteen days I'll be eighteen-years old! Most years I don't like making a big spectacle of my birthday, just another day and another year. But eighteen is one of those significant numbers. You can drink (in Europe) you can smoke (ew, no thanks) you can join the Army (lol) you can sleep with older men (yes!), and I plan on doing 1/2 of that!

^^The April Pumps I want for my bday!

For me though, eighteen is a weighted number. When we first moved out to Chicago I had a plan. I was going to obtain my GED and a job. I did get my GED, but no matter what I do it seems that I just can't find a job that will hire me. Everywhere I apply to I need work-experience - which is such bullshit - but I can't get a job so I can gain some "work-experience." I think that's called "cruel irony." In case you're wondering, yes, I do use quotations that much in real life. And because of it I feel like a disappointment to my mother. I feel like I disappointed her for getting my GED instead of finishing High School. I feel like I disappointed her for denouncing my belief in religion and becoming an atheist. I'm not a disappointment to myself for this, but I can tell she is. And when she throws it in my face, she may not know it, but it hurts my feelings. I would never make fun of her for believing in a god because I respect her and her beliefs, but she's not granted me that same respect. Several times she's thrown my atheism in my face: "You'll see, you're going to hell." "I hate atheist like you who tell me that what I believe isn't the truth! (Something I've never said)" In the past when I've tried talking to her about it she's just yelled at me or blown me off, and it's frustrating, because I wouldn't and I don't do that when she's talking about god, even though sometimes I wouldn't mind doing so.

But I've lost track of where I was going. I feel like a disappointment to her because I don't have a job. She doesn't see me in the kitchen while she's at work and Sarah is at school, on the computer applying to every job I can find, sometimes for hours: fast food places, CVS, Pot Belly, Dominiks, Target. She doesn't see this, and when she's come home in a bad mood (something Sarah and I have both come to anticipate this last month) and calls me "unproductive" it hurts me. Because I do try. It's hard for me to go outside sometimes. A few weeks ago while mama and I had gone to Navy Pier to pick up her pennies I nearly had a panic attack. I became anxious and edgy and I just wanted to go home.

Large crowds scare me and rejection scares me, but I've made progress. I can take a walk by myself, I can take the El by myself to her job and wait at Starbucks by myself until she breaks for her lunch-hour, I can go to Borders downtown during the weekends and read for hours by myself. I just don't think I'm emotionally ready to take my job-hunt outside yet. And I can't even imagine how embarrassing it would be to have a panic-attack in public. Not always does she see the small steps I've taken this last year, but I know I'm trying. I just have to remember that and be proud of myself.

I'm also excited for eighteen to come! Eighteen means I can finally get my passport, and I can finally find my au pair family. Mama has said several times that she doesn't think I'll go to Paris because she "hasn't seen the wheels started turning yet," but I've known all along that this birthday is exactly what is going to begin turning those wheels. I'm so excited to begin my life in a foreign country. I've always had my mother's adventurous soul only without the means for actual adventure. But I'm going to be living in Paris for a year! I plan on fitting four years of college into one year, so here's to sorosis of the liver and negative pregnancy tests! (lol I'm only kidding..sort of). During my time in Paris I also plan on learning Russian and getting a TEFL certificate so I can be able to teach English as a Second Language in Kiev, Ukraine after my year in Paris.

^^ Podil, a district in Kiev, Ukraine

Eighteen is my launching pad year and, for once, I'm excited about this birthday!