cover letter (journal entry, sunday 1:52 am)

sometimes when i am sitting here staring at a cover letter that is driving me insane at 1:52 am, i just get so angry and frustrated because i don't want to do this. i was smart enough to know what was best for myself. i wouldn't be in this position time and time again if i had just gotten to do what i planned. and i have to live with the regret. i am the one who has to reshape her life to fit something into my schedule that could have already fit in. it isn't really fair. every time i am in this very position i become overwhelmed, swallowed by regret and pain and fear and anger; discouraged and sad and lost, and how everything is just not right to the point that i am writing this right now. and for how many times i have had these thoughts swarming through my head, sending me into a craze, until i silence them. i pacify them with affirmations about how everything happens for a reason and that it will all work out: just put this aside and move forward, finish the letter, send it out, get the job, you'll settle and be happy. think of how many times i have had to hush these haunting horrors until they've returned, because they always do. they have before, they're here tonight, and they will resurface again. and each time i try to write a draft, the pain lodged in the depths of my throat like i've been shouting over loud music for hours without ever opening my mouth. this is an attempt to verbally embody what it feels like and why i feel so unsettled all the time, why i'm constantly so restless. i fear that this job will not quiet these feelings and fears, and if not, then what? but what else can i do but keep trying, keep moving forward, keep finishing the letter so i can send it out and get the job and be happy.

California Love, Reprise

The ride is scenic. We follow a wall of rock; we pass over hills and through valleys. The land is incredible -- it makes the term "grounded" seem relative, 'cause you just cant stay grounded here: you can't help but lose yourself in dream. It is unlike anything I think of when I think of America. The trees twist in ways that make you forget you're close to desert and rock and sea all at once. I put my feet in the Pacific Ocean and it is perfectly cold, and power courses through my body. I feel this strange emptiness -- like I've never felt anything in my life until this moment -- a mix of nostalgia and excitement. I feel alone but on my own. There's just nothing like it on the East Coast. 

*

I started writing this post on the Amtrak from San Diego to LAX, closing my five-day adventure in Southern California.

My trip to SoCal was filled with laughs and memories -- from the San Diego Zoo to just about every bar in Pacific Beach. But what I took from it was the lifestyle, the feeling. We went out with locals and wandered; and I found that this was a place I could, and would live.

My parents warned me about this. They knew I would fall in love with California and wouldn't ever want to leave, but I honestly wasn't prepared for this. When I realized we were really leaving California, I felt physical pain in my heart -- that sunken knot in your chest you feel after a bad break up or when you deeply miss someone you love.

And I love California, in the purest sense of the word.

I am forced to face it as I pass by the hills and freeways, houses built on top of and into hills. It reminds me too much of Italy this way. I find myself thinking/feeling the same things I did when I was leaving Perugia. And also like Italy, coming home -- home to the cold, stagnant, stability and dependence -- feels like paralysis.

Living at home means ultimately having to answer to someone, which inhibits what you do and how you spend your day. You can't just do as your please. This inevitable consciousness of your parents' presence rekindles that adolescent dependence on their approval -- the inability to do something, something significant, without permission. Therefore, you suddenly feel incapable of making decisions on your own. You've regressed to childhood.

Of course coming back from Cali was difficult because it was a beautiful place and a good time. But it was that much harder because being there was also a glimpse of my life as I once knew it: doing as I please, being young and being surrounded by other young people, laughing nonstop and constant stimulation. And what better a place to do so than Southern California, where fun feels effortless.

However, my new found love has me even more torn over an issue I've debated now for years, since I left Italy actually: the importance of career opportunity versus love for your land. Yes, both of these can coexist, but in many places it does present a problem.

When I met with the WWD contact in L.A., she told me that if I am most concerned with becoming the Editor at a magazine, I should go to New York. The greatest job market, especially in journalism, is in New York. But if I still don't know, if I am open to possibility, to just go somewhere I love. Well, I love San Diego. I want to live there, but there is hardly what you'd call a job market, especially not for me.

So the question I ask myself lately is, which is more important: greater job opportunity or land? Is it your profession or your place of residence that will bring you closer to fulfillment? I assure you that the answer will be different for everyone; and I suspect that most people will, like me, struggle to find an answer that satisfies them. So, I present you all a little something to muse over your Thanksgiving food coma... What do you think is most important?

A happy holiday to all...

...

California Love...

So it is 3:42 am on Friday, November 12th and I am heading off for my first trip out to California. Just posting to inform you that I wont be writing for the next five days. The trip was planned on a bit of a whim about a month ago when my friend Ricky announced that he was going to San Diego to present in a Neuroscience convention. My friend Colby and I tagged along. We will be visiting two of my cousins, and I am meeting a professional contact at WWD, Conde Nast Publications L.A. office through an internship I had in New York a few years back. I am pretty sure they don't have a job for me, but you never know what might come of it. Hopefully, I will have something good to report when I get back. Wish me luck!

This weekend I went back to my alma mater, Muhlenberg College, to visit my boyfriend. You think it'd be great going back to the place that helped you grow into the person you are, where you made lifelong friends, and opened your mind up to a world of possibilities, until you get there and realize: "Wait, who are all these people?" and "That guy looks like he's 14."

I had a great time with Ben, but it was so strange to walk around that campus -- a place I once called "home" -- and know I didn't belong there anymore. I spent the whole weekend trying to dodge the masses because I wanted to avoid the "what are you doing here" look on people's faces; and even more so, I just couldn't bear to face that same, haunting question again: "So what are you doing now?"

To those of us who aren't doing anything, this question is the ultimate blow to the ego -- the punch to the gut. I dread having conversations with strangers, and thus somewhat dread meeting new people these days solely because of this question and many others like it. I think you can probably empathize when I say sometimes I just want to reply: "It's none of your damn business."

I'm becoming a grump.

Okay, I'm being melodramatic... I am not a grump. I am just sick of feeling like I need to have an excuse tagged on the end of every "still searching for a job..." along with a list of 10 things I'm "trying to work on right now." Talk about pressure!

I don't want to get testy with people on the repeated subject of the "job search", and I don't want to leave every post-grad-plan conversation with a sour puss face and elevated blood pressure. Clearly people are just asking to try to be nice/sound interested/make conversation, and I know that 99% of the time no one is judging me, except myself.

And that's when I realized that it is just me. There's this little piece in each of us that doesn't have complete faith in ourselves, and that's the piece of you that gets so temperamental. The problem is that piece is magnified right now; our insecurities are like white blood cells attacking a virus, heading straight to the part that's lacking: our fulfillment.

It's really hard right now, and no one is jumping through hoops to hire you anyway so you start to feel like why bother. We feel stuck with this looming fear that we'll never find anything that makes us happy. Which turns into: if we are getting this discouraged and frustrated now, what does that mean for our future?

I have to be honest, today I am feeling kind of low. On days like this I wonder if I'll ever find a job, or that I'll get stuck doing something I just spent years of time and money trying to avoid doing. I even start to question decisions I made months or even years ago that I haven't looked back on until now: "Maybe I should have pursued that Business Minor instead; what if I had gotten a second internship?" Why am I even thinking about these things, because since when are those very minor details even that important? Especially in a time where nearly the only people I know who have jobs got them through connections.

It's like a relationship gone stale: your mind keeps running through memories and moments you had, the decisions you made, looking for what you could have changed that would have changed the position you are in now.

So why are these trivial decisions in my life up until this point haunting me?


I guess it comes down to two things that all humans share: fear and the desire for control. Of course it is scary to think that we could have had some control at some point over the position we're in now. And the only reason this position is scary in the first place, is because we fear that we may never get out of it -- that the "rut" that we keep reminding ourselves is temporary because we "just graduated" could become permanent.

All I can say to that is: yes, it is true that had I never changed my minor from business to art, or decided to participate in fewer extra curricular activities so I could spend more time on my school work, or had I taken a different route on dozens of decisions in my undergrad life, I may have ended up in a slightly different position. Maybe I would have a job or been in graduate school, but I -- and you -- have to keep in mind that there is a reason we did not make those decisions the first time around. Sure, some of our reasons were probably better than others -- I probably could have spent more time studying for that test if I skipped the dinner party with my friends -- but really, which of those things do you remember now that you are standing here longingly looking back?

I remember every dinner party, but I could not tell you what that test was on or how I felt while I was taking it. I can't even remember what grade I got on it. School work is your priority in college. But, as one of my professors used to always say jokingly, "studying is always interfering with college," and the "college" of that statement is the part that's going to stay in your heart forever.

Now I'm not urging you who are still in school to ditch your work and party. Rather, I am acknowledging the fact that we have all had to make a lot of tough decisions as students; and while many of them we could have made differently, our lives will always have an abundance of decisions to make... we didn't blow our one shot. Just because we didn't choose the path we thought we would when we started, or even when we graduated college doesn't mean that we need to be ready with a list of excuses for our current status. No one will think you're nuts for saying, "I honestly don't know what I want to do with my life yet." You may find some people will look taken aback, but most will answer -- even at two or three times your age and wisdom -- "Hey, neither do I."

Thanks for letting me vent today. Stay tuned -- this week I'll be looking for the cure to restore faith in the self.

The Costume Shop of Job Searching

First off, Happy (belated) Halloween! Hope everyone had a great time this weekend in all your garbs and guises.

Halloween is always so much fun because it's one night where you can be somebody else. Ever notice how different the atmosphere is at a costume party from a regular night out? It's because there is something so simply liberating about being in disguise. You can be anyone you want; you can act out of the norm without feeling the self-consciousness you feel in your daily attire. What confines we put ourselves in!

This whole idea of being freed by the masquerade made me start to think about some of the guises we slip on during our daily routine. So remember what I mentioned in my "Home... is Where I Wanna Be" post when you feel like your parents or childhood friends don't know the whole you anymore? Well, it's kind of like that. You feel like you are almost confined to a certain version of yourself when you are around certain people: teachers, parents, grandparents, friends, boy/girlfriends, the kid who sells you your morning coffee... And, if we are subject to different versions of ourselves based on the people we choose to surround ourselves with, then wouldn't the same thing go for which graduate program, city you live in, or job you choose to take?

Try looking at it this way: it's weird to think about when you have only been out of college for less than a year, but your profession is something you use to define yourself. For example, a year ago, when someone would ask me to tell them a little bit about myself I would say: "My name is Christina Garofalo, I am a student at Muhlenberg College, and I live at the Jersey Shore."  Now there is usually further conversation where you'd get to know more about one another, but the launching pad for that further conversation is rooted in those first three introductory points.

You've all gotten it before, the: "Oh, my cousin went to Muhlenberg. What a small world!" or "Where about on the Jersey Shore do you live? I have a beach house there." The frequency that this very same conversation has happened over mine, and probably most of your lives is unreal. It becomes almost a recording. That alone should tell you, if not urge you, to realize how important the career and life choices we make and how they reflect on who we are.

Which leads me to my next point: to settle for a career that does not fulfill you will ultimately affect the way your define yourself and the attitude with which you define yourself. And what does that mean? A major identity crisis. So, let's spare ourselves the mental breakdown at age 45 because we've realized that we took the road so highly traveled that we've been stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic for the last 20 years. Instead, why not take the time now, while we are young and can still afford to be a bit selfish, and experiment? Let's use this time to try on as many different personae as possible, and from there, we might actually learn something worthwhile about what kind of career might make us happy for the long haul.

In light of my Portland, OR craze, my friend Carly lent me a book called Fugitives and Refugees: A Walk in Portland, Oregon by Chuck Palahniuk. The first line of the book says, "Everyone in Portland is living a minimum of three lives,' says Katherine Dunn, the author of Geek Love. She says, 'Everyone has at least three identities... They're a grocery store checker, an archaeologist, and a biker guy... Or they're a poet, a drag queen, and a bookstore clerk."

As if I needed more reason to love this city, here it is -- the proof of my theory, along with some relief in its truth. We are all constantly trying to imagine some more sophisticated version of ourselves working in different jobs -- imagining what our lives would be like if we were a copy writer, social worker, lawyer, psychologist, teacher, etc. -- and judging what we should do by what we can "see ourselves" doing.  But how accurate is that really?

Every person has interests, hobbies, and talents outside of their profession. And of course, the ideal situation would be to get paid for our hobbies, but that can't always be the case. I mean, the likelihood of you making a living off of your coin collection is minimal. So instead, I'm led to believe that the best we can do is to imagine which of these jobs best compliments the other important aspects of our lives.

Maybe the most important things to you are to be able to provide a comfortable life for your family and to help people. If this is the case, health care might be the perfect track for you then. I write poetry, prose, and short fiction; so I might think of what kinds of jobs would enhance my writing versus which might stifle it. From exploring different options and ideas, I learned that the only things that make me fulfilled are creating (art, poetry) and helping people. And though it's very broad, it's a start.

See if you can take some time to figure out which types of things make you feel like you've done something worth your while. From there, start to try on different professional personae, and when you find one that might fit, go for it!

Last week, I had coffee with my dad and talked to him about all of what I'm talking to you about. I told him all my ideas, the things I learned that I like, and what I need to have a shot at fulfillment. He mentioned that my uncle might be able to help. So they spoke, and then I reached out to him via Facebook. My uncle Robert is a physician in Chicago. He told me he has a number of connections and might be able to help me find a job out there. The prospect of moving to a new city, let alone Chicago, was exciting enough. But, to have a good job out there could be just what I need.

We still have to talk in some more depth, but a possibility could be something like grant-writing for a nonprofit medical clinic. And while grant-writing isn't very creative, it could make for a more well-rounded writing resume and it would qualify as "helping people" on my musts for fulfillment. And, as a writer, I have found that I have more of an impulse to write (creatively) when I am intellectually stimulated by those needs.


While nothing is final, and the details still need a lot of working out, it is at the very least something to look forward to and get my spirits up. And if it doesn't work out, I figure I can always be a poet, a drag queen, and a bookstore clerk.

Have a great day everyone!

When the Champagne Lost its Fizz

 I have had a lot of trouble getting myself to write this post. As you've read in my last two, I had post-graduation plans to teach English in Thailand with my friend Elana. Then this happened:

United States of America Policy Holders

UPDATED: 21 May 2010

The Department of State recommends against travel to Bangkok and non-essential travel to the rest of Thailand at this time. 

The U.S. Embassy, including visa operations, was closed on Friday, May 14 and will be closed on Monday, May 17.   If security issues persist, the U.S. Embassy may continue to close.  American Citizen Services (ACS) will be available for emergencies only. The emergency after-hours telephone number is 66-2-205-4000.

Policy holders planning to travel to or in Thailand:

As per the general exclusions section of the policy wording, policies insured with Jefferson or BCS Insurance Company are not covered for any loss that results directly or indirectly from war (declared or undeclared), acts of war, military duty, civil disorder or unrest.

Contact us:

For further enquiries, please contact World Nomads Claims USA 1.800.654.1908 (toll free within US) or +1.804.281.5700 (Collect) or email AssistanceGroup@MondialUSA.com

*        *        *

 It began near the end of my junior year in college. I had just spent the last semester living in Perugia, Italy and traveling with friends throughout the country and the continent. It was a life-changing experience that, even after five months, I wasn't ready to give up. I have family in Italy who invited me to stay with them for the summer free of charge. My parents were totally on board, but on one condition: I must find a job and generate some income.

It was Spring 2009, and the economy was at an all-time low. Both my father and stepmother lost their jobs. Especially with the Euro still weighing out almost to 1.4 to the U.S. dollar, now was not the time to be living off my last bit of savings and certainly not theirs. So I began looking into options, mainly au pair and teaching positions. However, my family lives in a very small village in Tuscany where I would not be able to get around without a car. It became more of a stress than a possibility. So after a few short weeks with them, I reluctantly packed my bags and headed back to the U.S.

It was a tough transition resuming my life in America. For one, I do not have my own car, which was never a problem in Perugia but I can't exactly walk for miles down Route 35 to get to work every day in Jersey. Not to mention, every time I did get into a car -- the backseat, in particular -- I became carsick from not being used to it. I also found it hard to sustain energy throughout the day without "La Pausa" -- the couple of hours in the middle of the day for lunch and rest. Our fast-paced culture became hard to integrate into my life again. I already have a slight tendency toward being late, so you can only imagine what a couple months in Italy did to exacerbate that problem. All this, and the fact that much of my outlook and attitude changed, just added to my longing to return. 

So when we started our senior year in August,  my roommates and I had a bunch of friends over our place to kick off the "beginning of the end." We went around and all talked about where we saw ourselves after this year was up. Most people had no clear plans and were very worried about that. Until now, our entire lives have been planned out for us: elementary school, high school, college; school, winter break, school, summer, school. But once college is over, you're on your own to choose what's next. There is no one answer for you, and definitely no answer that is right for everyone. It is the first time you really have to ask yourself: "What do I want to do? Where do I see myself in the next few years?" It's scary.

When it was Elana's turn, she talked about how much she loved being abroad and was not ready to come home when it was over. We were the only two people, it seemed, who could've stayed well past the end of our programs. She mentioned that she had been talking to one of her friends from Amsterdam (where she studied) who taught English in Thailand and had an incredible experience. She said she was thinking about looking into it, but didn't really want to go alone and asked if I was interested.

Our plans started off loosely, but upon our return from winter break things really took off. We had picked a city (Chiang Mai), a certification program (Text and Talk Academy), made a number of contacts who gave us wonderful advice on finding an apartment and things to do, and purchased a flight to depart on September 8, 2010. After countless hours on the phone with STA Travel (a great airline for student travelers), we planned a stopover in Amsterdam for a few days to break up the 18-hour flight, which required an additional stopover in Cairo, where we then planned to stay a few more days because, well, why not?

Then just before it came time for graduation, civil unrest -- riots, open fire on civilians -- in Thailand flooded newspapers and TV stations. What are the odds that a country who has a reputation for it's peaceful culture and kindness to foreigners would break out into civil war just months before I planned to go there? It's almost laughable.

Actually, it is laughable. 

We said we'd wait it out and see what happened, but when things did not seem to be getting any better by mid-summer my parents told me they would not allow it. And, unfortunately, I did not have sufficient funds to pay for the flight and certification program upfront on my own. So, as my dad said, any time there is something that requires your parents' financial support, it is no longer a personal decision.

On September 8, Elana departed for our trip alone. She had to alter her plans a bit because she was not prepared to go alone, but she made it work and is now teaching English in a small town a couple of hours outside Bangkok. After I read the first long message she sent me after she'd been in Bangkok, I cried. I am so proud of her yet cannot help being jealous (which she knows) as I sit here with an indefinite future ahead of me. But I know that there is something out there for me. I just have to keep searching. 

If anyone is interested in more information on how to organize a trip to teach abroad, please contact me. I'd be happy to help or write a post breaking down the details!

Here are the links to some of the sites we used:

* General Information: http://www.transitionsabroad.com/listings/work/esl/thailand.shtml

*Text and Talk Academy: http://www.teflteachthai.com/

* STA Travel: http://www.statravel.com/

Home... is where I wanna be..

I wish I felt that place it must be that the "Heads" are talking about.

Our favorite high school kids from The Breakfast Club discovered during their Saturday detention that everyone's home life is unsatisfying; otherwise, we'd all live with our parents forever. Don't get me wrong, I am very fortunate to have a roof over my head and a family that can provide for me to stay, but I've gotta go. And I know a lot of you are feeling that too.

That is the problem when the house you grew up in no longer feels like your home, when you are no longer the person you were when you lived there, and when the people there don't know the whole you, you've come to be in college. You become used to your life at school, surrounded by friends and a whole community of people who have watched you develop independently into the person you are today.

I learned a lot about myself in college, and I can't help but feel like I am regressing now as I am sleeping in the bed where I slept, and driving the streets that I drove, when I was in high school.

My friend Nicole put our conflict best after a night out with our college friends in NYC. She said, "I just don't want to go home. Can't we just stay?"

Well, no. It's not so simple.

You want to leave, but you're tight on money. You try to find a job, so you're waiting around. Maybe you apply to some jobs in other cities: L.A., San Fran, Chicago, Boston, D.C... but you hardly get any responses. You know you can always find a minimum wage job in another city. Take my friend Anna, for example, who is an aspiring actress from Maryland. She knows she needs to be in New York for her career to take off, so she's working as a hostess while she goes out on auditions... and she's doing great!

Or, take me. I want to move to Portland so badly. I could easily just go there, find another health food store and do exactly what I am doing here, there (sorry, Dean's). This is a great option for people who need to be somewhere for their ideal job, or who would gladly sacrifice their ideal job for a more satisfying environment. If you are that type of person, I really do suggest you look into it. I know many people who are very happy doing just that.

And it is something I considered. When a few of my friends and family members wanted to move into NYC and wanted me to join, I seriously contemplated just saying "screw it" and making it work. But while it was a very attractive offer, I realized that I don't want to work my ass off at a minimum wage job and struggle to make ends meet just so I can call the city home. I am tired of my job now. I can only imagine how much that might kill my zest for city living, and how much my writing would suffer...

As British author Samuel Johnson said of London, "I suggested a doubt, that if I were to reside in London, the exquisite zest with which I relished it in occasional visits might go off, and I might grow tired of it."

Yet all that aside, the only thing that truly makes me crazy right now is that I knew before I graduated -- I knew in September of my senior year, even -- that I would be unhappy doing this. I knew that if I were at home, searching for a mediocre job, I would be so beyond dissatisfaction that I would start to feel stuck. And guess what? I am; which is where the teaching in Thailand idea came from (that, and the fact that both Elana and I were obsessed with our semesters abroad). I know I still have yet to get into that with you, but I will get there, I promise.

All you need to know for now is that I have not given up. There are so many options for you if you love to travel, and you shouldn't rule any of them out. It's impossible to know exactly what you'll learn about yourself by pushing yourself out of the comfort of home, but I can guarantee that it will be more than you ever imagined.

I'll leave you with that for now. Enjoy this wonderful day, and go for a walk if you can. It's just fabulous outside.

Last night I went out to dinner at Kaya's Kitchen (a great vegan/vegetarian place that recently moved to Belmar) with some friends from work.

Two things I should fill you in on before I continue: 1. I do have a job; and 2. It's at a health food store (Dean's Natural Food Market) in my hometown. So you've got the picture -- a group of people gathered around an assortment of meat imitations.

I arrived 25 minutes late (typical of me) and wasn't even the last one there... it was going to be a great night.

We all got together to celebrate Jordan, one of my coworkers, and his venture out west to Portland, Oregon. The news was a big deal to me, not only because Jordan is my friend, but 'cause I have been fixated on the idea of moving to Oregon since my sophomore year in college when I became friends with an Oregonian. And another thing you should know is that I spend a fair amount of my spare time researching the city of Portland--all its different neighborhoods and features--especially when I am having a tough time at home, feeling like I'm in a rut. 

 Needless to say, I took Jordan's news as a sign, and I was very excited to hear all about his impending trip.

When we sat down to talk, he told me that he decided to move to Portland just two months ago, and that he is going to stay in a live-work space for artists. That was my second sign.

About a year and a half ago (maaan, time flies!), I reluctantly came back home to New Jersey after studying abroad for 5 months. A year ago, my friend Elana and I started talking about our shared need to go back, and decided to teach English in Thailand. There is a lot more to that story, and I will go there another day; for now, it is important only because it was the first time that I heard about artist live-work spaces.

Elana found that there was an Artists' Commune located near the city we were looking to live in Thailand and thought it might be something I would be interested in. Now, literally a year later, serving vegetable juices and other organic goodness to the masses of Monmouth County, I have rekindled that idea, realizing I need a way out of here; I need to see the world, and an average desk job isn't going to give that to me.

So I started researching.

I found the Alliance of Artists Communities at http://www.artistcommunities.org/about-aac and read through 35 pages of places I could go to live and work on my writing across the country, and throughout the world. What I found was incredible. There are places where you can stay for one weekend or for three years. You can pay to go wherever you would like, or you can apply to a program that works like a fellowship and stay for free. You can go to the center of NYC and LA, or you can go to the middle of the dessert in a National Park, or in a secluded cabin in the woods or a house on the ocean. Before I knew it, I had spent 11 hours straight in front of my computer googling residencies and cities.

My first list of choices was 3-pages long in my Moleskine, chosen strictly on places I wanted to go. My second list was of 13 places in the U.S. (I decided I should live somewhere else in this country before I go live somewhere else abroad again) that I could go for free or for an affordable cost. My final list was three.

I narrowed it down to three places that offer either fellowships or a work-exchange, whose length is a couple of months to start, and offer enough social interaction for me not to go crazy but enough seclusion to focus on my work. All three are also places that give great support to their writers and, while they welcome emerging writers and artists, they are profession-oriented; meaning, they have professionals come work with you and/or have many connections and success stories coming out of their programs.

The final three are: The Norman Mailer Center (Provincetown, MA), Fine Arts Work Center (Provincetown, MA), and Sitka Center for Art and Ecology (Otis, OR).

I have spent the last few weeks working on my applications--applying to these programs is like applying to college all over again--and am just about done.  Along the way, I had a lot of trouble downloading the Norman Mailer Center's application, and found through contact with their staff that it was no longer an affordable option for me. So, I am down to the latter two, and I am very optimistic and excited. I am still looking into finding a third place, but am just about set with all my info for the FAWC and Sitka. I recently attended the Dodge Poetry Festival in Newark, NJ with my best friend, Nicole, and we heard an outstanding black poet who teaches at a small college in Staten Island, and who, I noticed in his bio, attended the Fine Arts Work Center. Another sign?

I hope so. I really hope this is just what I need. And in the meantime, I bid my talented friend Jordan the best of luck in this very exciting next step in his life as an artist and a person. I cannot wait to see how he is doing and what he is creating out there. And, luckily for me, I have someone to stay with and show me the ropes when I head out west too... hopefully soon.

Intro

I have been trying to start this blog since I graduated college...

That was five months ago. 

The idea was to speak to my fellow recent grads -- the ones who aren't on their way to Med school, or Law school, or any school; the ones who don't have jobs lined up, no one dying to hire them, and, like me, probably haven't gotten a single response from employers to the countless resumes, cover letters, writing samples, monetary bribes, and organs I've sent.

If this describes you too, you are not alone. I'm writing this to try to show you that you are not alone. There is nothing wrong with not knowing exactly, or even at all, what you want to do with your life yet. In fact, I believe that it is asking a lot of us to make such a weighted decision for something that (whether we'd like to admit it) we know nothing about yet. All you have to do is want to learn, be willing to explore and to take risks. As long as you do that, you will discover something new about yourself every day. And, the more you discover about yourself, the closer you are to figuring out what to do next.