Saturday, February 11, 2017

Welcome back

We meet again. Here on this screen where I ramble about my life and you read. I express anxieties, excitements, motivations, opinions, and plans, and you use these words to mold your picture of who I am. Welcome back, you've chosen a good day to read, at least I think you have.

So I suppose I should catch you up. Since I last wrote I chose Oklahoma as my next frontier. I
started a new job, in a new brewery, with new amazing people. I made friends, borrowed a comical car, made guacamole, and practiced a lot of yoga. I wore heels and borrowed my aunt's shirt for an interview. I got two job offers and accepted one. I bought a plane ticket and designed a 10 day itinerary down the west coast and back inland.

There is this quote (apparently a yiddish proverb) about making plans, and I think it applies to my life most appropriately. "We make plans, God laughs."

Yeah, He's funny, that guy. I guess when I say "I'm just trying this out to see what happens," He says, "Alright, you ready for an adventure? Something weird? Something you didn't expect? That's what will happen." So far His intervention has led me down some amazing and unexpected roads, and I anticipate the same going forward.

So there you go, questions? Yes, I thought you may have a few.

Oklahoma? My cousin got married here so I flew down for the wedding, my other cousin and aunt convinced me to stay for a while.

The Brewery? COOP Ale Works. I got a job by sending them an email with the subject line "Queen of the Keg Wash" It was silly, I thought I'd never hear from them. They asked me to come in the Monday after the wedding. I was paid in beer and t-shirts and then hired part-time.

The job? OU Medical Center Adult Emergency Department Nurse, Full-Time Nights. It's a teaching hospital, the only Trauma 1 in Oklahoma, and part of my next adventure.

The road trip? You'll see.


There you have it. Funny the directions life moves in. Funny how you don't get things you want because something better is on the horizon. And let me tell you, the horizons in Oklahoma are extensive.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Twenty Three

Today marks the end of my 23rd year. A year I was told would be boring, and lame, a year where no one takes you seriously but everyone expects you to be an adult. 23 was supposed to be a bad year because "too many transitions," and "nobody likes you."

Me and a Kiwi shortly after my birthday

I didn't intentionally fight these claims about 23. In fact, I may have agreed with this perspective at some points during the year. But looking back, everything I did flew in the face of these ideas. 23 has been the best year of my young life- not coincidentally it may have also been the hardest. 

My 23rd birthday was spent with people who were complete strangers only two weeks earlier, in a country where I knew no one except them, and was wholly reliant on their generosity (which was abundant). 

I jump-started my 23rd year when I boarded a bus headed for a sulfur scented city; I found myself in a hostel dorm room sharing a bottle of wine and a can of jalapeƱo Pringles with a dutch woman enjoying her five week vacation. From here 23 became what the article linked above claims 23 cannot be. 

At 23 I abseiled in to a cave and spent 5 hours among glow worms and cave eels. At 23 I asked a stranger to climb a volcano with me. At 23 I house-sat for perfect strangers and drove on the left side of the road. I moved in to a hostel at 23 and shared a room with 5 strangers for 2 months. I joined a soccer team at 23, I bought a car and slept in it at road-side rest areas. I worked a job I had been previously denied 3 times and joined a church. At 23 I hiked trails on mountains, hills, farmlands, and beaches, sometimes alone and sometimes with friends. At 23 I read 29 books. At 23 I faced countless rejections for jobs and even more acceptance by strangers, friends, family, and coworkers. I walked on freshly solidified lava fields and gazed upon constellations I had never seen. At 23 I said my last goodbye to my sweetest of friends. I moved 5 times at 23, sometimes to new cities and towns, and often back to familiar faces.  


23 sometimes felt overwhelming, lonely, and painful. I discovered characteristics within myself I had no clue I was capable of. And even though I didn't always love my life, it remains the best year I've ever had.

Since I've committed to the business of exceeding my own expectations I intend to stay the course for 24. For those of you who read these jumbled words of nonsense, rest assured, I will keep you informed on what exactly that course turns out to be, just the moment I know it.