words to live by

Leap, and the net will appear.

Quite without realizing it, I've long lived my life by this maxim. I have always enjoyed jumping into new situations, traveling to foreign places, venturing where I don't know a soul, counting on the fact that I will meet people, I will make friends, I'll figure it out and will likely have a fairly marvelous time in the process.

Indeed, the net has always appeared. But today as I sat on the train, heading uptown to go to the Philharmonic for my usual Saturday shift on what happens to be the most incredibly beautiful day we've had in many, many months, surrounded by throngs of 20-somethings decked out in green heading to the Hoboken St. Paddy's Parade (and pub crawl), I couldn't help looking around, wondering where the hell that net's gotten off to.

I definitely feel a bit daft for complaining about things like my lack of a job that "fulfills my soul" when one in 10 Americans doesn't have a job at all. I am painfully aware of all the things for which I should be thankful, including the fact that I have a job, and a family and friends and my health and a comfortable supply of ketchup. (Picked up a 24-oz. bottle of Hunt's for 99 cents at the Montgomery Food Mart yesterday and felt a small tear trickle down my cheek. It was beautiful.)

But despite being extremely thankful for what I have, I can't help wishing that what I'm lacking -- that proverbial net, and all it entails -- would hurry up and appear. I've been living in this city since October, and I still lack a "real" job (translation: one that pays me to do what I'm qualified to do) or any real social group, mostly because I don't have money to go out and do things. See the first item of lacking for explanation.

I'm ready to fall into the comfort of the net. I'm ready to have a job I enjoy going to, and one I enjoy going to Monday through Friday, so that I can be one of those 20-somethings in green getting ready to drink beer and revel in a holiday that's still two weeks off. And I am beginning to wonder, as I have never done before mid-leap, so to speak, if the net will ever appear for me, here in New York.

It's a strange question to find myself asking, mostly because for as long as my little pea brain can recall, I have known I wanted to live in New York and work for a magazine. But now? Not so positive. I know I want a job that will allow me to travel, perhaps even to live a transcontinental life. I know I want to write. I know I want the freedom to take time off, to have adventures, to seek new experiences. And I'm starting to realize that maybe all these things aren't going to happen for me here.

It's frightening, and yet simultaneously exciting, to think that all the things I once knew to be absolute and unwavering may, in fact, be totally up in the air and completely flexible. I was the person who declared a major as an incoming freshman and never changed it. I remember saying to people who were still waffling between majors and minors in their third and fourth semesters, "You should feel lucky! That indecision is also the opportunity to do anything. The freedom is exciting!" It was easy, of course, to say that to them when I knew precisely the direction in which I was headed. Now that I'm not so sure anymore, I can imagine what they must've been thinking about my sage wisdom -- easy for you to say -- because it's the same thing I think when my happily employed (at magazines, no less) friends try to give me the same advice.

At the very least all these jumbles of thoughts and questions have basically guaranteed that this blog, for as far into the future as I can see, will continue to be about travels, adventures and generally figuring shit out, because I think my life will be full of all three of those things for a long time coming.

But enough with the sappy, introspective shit. I promise that I will keep that stuff to a once-a-month maximum, because god knows you prefer to read this blog when it's funny and about me wetting my pants in Cardiff, Wales, or the Internet Dating Fiasco of 2004 (both stories coming soon). I'm off to enjoy what's left of this incredible day, with a cup of tea and the view of the New York skyline.

cheers,
elizabeth