Hanging in Suspense

You may have noticed another long hiatus in my writing. This is becoming a habit, so I guess I’ll quit apologizing or making excuses. Seriously, though, I’ve been too busy to write! <<<  Excuse.

The end of the fall marks a serious transition point for us interns. Our commitments slowly come to an end, and we face once again an uncertain future and a viciously competitive job market. (And the scary realization that despite the 3 months we’ve put into our internships, we still don’t have sufficient “experience” to satisfy potential employers. Really makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, doesn’t it?)

My point is, I’ve spent the last several weeks floundering over what to do with my life. Okay, to be honest, I’ve spent the last 12 months floundering over what to do with my life – but transition times condense all that stress into one long, terrible, grey-hair-producing, frozen-pizza-and-beer-eating, somewhat-hysterical-phone-calls-home experience.  You should try it sometime. I’m sure it’s good for the heart.

My head swirled with questions, and each day saw me resolved upon a new path.

I will be a JOURNALIST! Excuse me now, I’m gonna go cover the war in Afghanistan, brb….hmmm, no, I will actually study those TOP SECRET intel reports, because I’m a policy analyst and that’s what we do…scratch that, I’m pretty much a spy, and I’m gonna private.dance it.outta here…fine, screw the job market, I’m joining the military! 

All this uncertainty really made me a productive member of society.

I had a choice. Move on to another internship (possibly on the Hill? Possibly in a different field? Possibly with a different company?) or stay where I’m at. My company offered me a continued internship into the spring, and my boss offered to help me out a bit with the job search.

What to do…what to do…

(I eventually did make a decision, but if you think I’m gonna tell you right now then you clearly don’t understand the phrase “hanging in suspense”…nor have you read any trilogies.)

(Not that this is a trilogy…given my posting regularity, do we honestly think I’m capable of that?)

(The answer is no. I’m not.)

Pardon the hiatus. Vacation.

I went home to Montana for a few weeks. And I gleefully did not even THINK about this blog. Well, that's not exactly true, I thought about in the sense of how much I loved not having to think about it. Does that make sense? Whatever.

Anywhooos...home was filled with family, water skiing, eating, hiking, horses, sailing, eating, basically all the things that make life wonderful. Allow me to make you jealous with the following pictures:

A view from within my favorite National park...Glacier

Saw this bear walking across and then along the road. So,
naturally, I snatched the camera out of my dad's hand
and leaned out the car window to get as close as possible.  

The Sis and I hiking a mountain near our house.
Not bragging here, it literally is a mtn. One of the
Rockies. Sadly dogs had to be leashed. It's a
National Parks thing.

Dad and I canoeing with the pooch. She hates cameras,
seems to think they're gonna suck out her soul or something,
but she was still for this shot.

Doesn't my home rock? I can't believe I'm out here living in this cramped metropolis when I could be back there. (And that, my friends, is the short version of the life-crisis I had upon returning to the city...trust me, you don't want details.)

Also, let me share a quick list of the things I saw in the middle of the road on my drive to the Montana airport at 3 am: One skunk (alive), two flirting deer (the buck was at least a 5x5 [that means his antlers had 5 points on each side, which made me hanker for a gun]), a coyote, a herd of at least 6 buck, ranging from spikes (look it up) to another 10 point (aka 5x5), a skunk (dead), and someone on a horse herding another horse in front of him with a dog trotting alongside.

Yeah. I love Montana.

Apparently, DC suffered through a hurricane and an earthquake while I was away. Darn. Missed 'em.

My problems with the word "fleeting"

Every college student knows that the academic year holds several points of transition: we adjust back to school after a long summer, we adjust to a relaxed home at the start of the holidays, we adjust to new schedules and living situations.

Times of transition don’t go away simply because we graduate. On the contrary, “graduation” seems to be life’s codeword for “Quick! Assault the wee human with change!”

Still living out of a suitcase.

I know this isn’t the case for some of you, but it is certainly the case for me. And since this is my blog, this is my space to complain.

I am sick to death of living in transition.  I want a dresser. I want a lamp. I want a frickin bed.

Some people, like my father, try to encourage me by saying that this moment in my life is “fleeting” and “exciting.”  Hmm.  Maybe life will get more exciting when I can finally stop living out of a suitcase or sleeping on the floor.  (Futons and air mattresses will be your best friends.)

And “fleeting”? Fleeting?  I think of fleeting as a short horse race, or as the time it takes me to eat three chocolate muffins.  Or an entire pizza.  But fleeting as applied to this transition time just feels…unfair.  “Painfully sluggish” would be more appropriate.

But wait.  When I began college, people warned me that it would “go by so fast.”  I scoffed – four years away from my family and my mountains and my dogs and horses is an awfully long time.  But in retrospect, yes, it did go by quickly. Much too quickly.  It was almost…fleeting.

Odd. Fleeting = college experience = times it takes me to eat an entire pizza.  ...Those shouldn't match.

I have a theory.  “Fleeting” is a special word, one that people use to refer to events that have passed, events that are now “past.”  In particular, special events.  (Yes, I classify "eating pizza" as a special event.)  College was fleeting.  Someday, I will be able to say that this time, too, was fleeting.

When that day comes, I will treat myself to a fancy drink at the nearest bar.  Maybe a couple fancy drinks.  Cheers.

A roof over my head

So you know that picture I posted at the end of my last post, as kind of a joke? The one that said “And then the plan went horribly awry”? This is where I explain how that joke isn't such a joke anymore.

One skill that all recent grads need to master is flexibility. As an experienced international traveler, I thought I dominated this. Yeah, I thought smugly to myself, I am SO flexible. Flexible like a rubber band, flexible like Mr. Fantastic, flexible enough to handle pretty much anything, because I’m a GROWN-UP now.

Hmm, maybe I was a bit prideful, too?

God has been teaching me that no matter how much I think I’ve developed a certain skill, I can always use more practice.  Case in point: Playing musical-housing-situation in DC with scarce funds and limited mobility.  It’s a really fun game. You should try it sometime. You get to meet interesting people (like strangers on the sidewalk who inform you that your chosen apartment is in a really unsafe neighborhood), sleep in unusual places (floors, futons and couches), and mooch off your friends (sorry guys, I’ll have my life figured out eventually). You learn to function on a bare minimum of sleep and an absolute max of stress, and you try to rationalize an hour-and-a-half commute to work.

Perhaps some background information would be helpful?  I moved to DC. I stayed with some friends for a few days, then I lugged my bags 7 blocks away to my own, new apartment. Enjoyed about 2 days of feeling accomplished, then met multiple random strangers who told me I hadn’t chosen the safest neighborhood.  Enter period of self-doubt and inner turmoil. Run frantically around the city like a naive little chicken with her head cut off searching for alternate housing. Put new roommate and landlord in a predicament because they *might* have to find a new tenant, but then again, they might not.

I told myself I would have a definite answer to my housing question by this weekend, but due to events beyond my control that isn’t possible. Maybe in another week?

This is the key phrase: due to events beyond my control.  Recent grads will have to learn to make peace with this phrase.  I cannot control all the variables that make up my life. And it is futile and frustrating to try.  Maybe I should sit back and let Someone else take charge? Maybe I should pause to reconsider God’s sovereignty?

Maybe I should count my blessings, instead of my woes.  I have a friend in a much more terrible housing situation than I.  One of my buddies has an even longer commute to work than mine.  I pass people in the street everyday who don’t have a place to live, who don’t have a family supporting their every step, who have much less hope. 

Despite my uncertainties, I know I’m taken care of.  When it rains – literally or metaphorically – at least I have a roof over my head. Even if I haven't officially signed the lease on it yet. (And even if the AC unit leaks water into the house when it rains, as I discovered a few minutes ago.)