What Next?

The question I keep being asked (and which I ask myself periodically) is "What next?" Well, I'm heading to Maine this weekend, and then to New Hampshire soon for the summer, but I don't think that is what people mean.

I'm not sure what is next. I've been subbing the last few days in first grade (my old job), which has been loads of fun, and so normal and natural to fall back into. I would like to come back and teach next year (I've even managed to get up at a reasonable hour and not be any grumpier than I normally am, even after not having to do so for a year!), but, alas, it doesn't look like there will be any jobs available here. I could get my resume together and apply elsewhere, but a) this school really is great and b) I don't feel like it.

So my plan is to 1) go to Maine for the weekend and have a blast, 2) go to New Hampshire for the summer and have more of a blast, and 3) wait and see what I feel like doing. Maybe I'll want to stay in NH until it gets cold (is that September 3rd or 4th?). Maybe I'll want to do construction work for one of my brothers or whatever financial finagling the other brother might be getting up to (still not really sure what he does). Maybe I'll come back to St. Louis and be a permanent sub. (No lesson plans-- good. Always having lunch duty-- bad.) Maybe I'll volunteer a lot.

I figure I'll either be happy with whatever bits and bats I am doing or I'll become so bored that I will have some impetus to organize a resume. I won't be homeless and I won't be starving, so I don't really have any worries except for my mental well-being. (Which sometimes can be quite worrisome, but that is a whole different story!) In fact, my biggest worry at the moment is what the weather will be like in Maine and what I should pack.

In the mean time, if anybody magically has a job for me, I'm happy to entertain offers! (Does this count as networking? It feels kind of like a debutante party, only there it is basically saying "I am now ready to entertain offers of marriage," which, by the way, I may or may not be ready to entertain, depending on who's offering....)

Thanks

Even though my journeys still continue (I am in San Francisco right now), my Big Trip has come to an end, and I feel like I need to do a little wrap-up, and give thanks and praise where it is due. So here it goes.


On my whole trip I never got sick, never had anything stolen or lost, never left anything unintentionally. I never had issues with transportation or housing or anything. The Fates were smiling upon me and clearly meant for me to do this trip.

What I did was nothing special. Just ask any 25 year old who shared a dorm room with me, who has been in Central America for 8 months. But it was something completely outside of anything I had ever done-- or was ever likely to do-- and yet I am so glad I did it.

I learned a lot about the world and about myself this year. I learned that life is hard lots of places, and I had no concept of what it means to be needy. I learned that happiness can come really easily. I learned that I can do a lot of things that I never thought I could do. I learned what I need in my life and what is a bonus extra.

Thank you to those of you who supported me this year (both financially and emotionally). Thank you to the people who left me comments or sent me emails. Thank you to the myriad people who hosted me this year. Thank you to the people whom I befriended (or who befriended me) along the way.

But most of all, thank you to those of you who said I could do it, those who said I should do it, and especially to those who let me go even though they wanted me to stay. It really was a year like no other, and I couldn't have done it without you.

Clothes

The first thing I did when I got home (after washing absolutely every single thing in my backpack-- anything I didn't pitch, that is) was to purge my wardrobe. I've never considered myself to be a girly-girl or someone obsessed with clothes, but I had ridiculous amounts of everything in my bureau(s) and closet(s), some of which hadn't been warn in literally a decade. (The dress code at my school was a bit more lax than previous places I'd worked-- altough not as lax as it was five years ago, alas-- and I decided that even if they don't hire me back, I don't really want to work some place where I need to wear a silk blouse. Ever. And that Little Black Bridemaid's dress that of course I would be able to wear again which hasn't been put on since September of 1997 went too.) Lucky for me, the woman who lives in the carriage house is opening a thrift store, so the ridiculously large pile of clothes that I amassed will go to good use.

But even with the great purge, I still have about ten times (maybe more) as many clothes now than I've had for the past seven months. Now I have choices to make. I thought that might make getting dressed in the morning a bit of a challenge with all the decisions (shorts or skort, printed t-shirt or plain), but it hasn't. No, what has happened is that now I seem to change my clothes four times a day. Seriously.

Today was this:
Jeans and grubby t-shirt first thing in the morning.
Yoga pants and top for yoga class.
Capris and different t-shirt to head into school to bring treats to my teammates.
And now, same capris (but different Chacos) and a tidy shirt to go the auction house and out to dinner.

Good lord, what has happened to me? Maybe tomorrow I'll try wearing the same outfit all day. Guess I just won't be able to go to yoga or do any gardening. Maybe I'll do both in my pajamas, and that will eliminate two outfits.

Being Home

Technically, my travels are over (except of course for a weekend in San Francisco and a trip to Maine, both in May), but I suspect that my travails will continue (such as they are), so chances are good that I'll still be putting posts up periodically. People around me will probably continue to do ridiculous things, which I will of course feel the need to comment on (always excluding names to protect the innocent... and DeAnn).

I've been home a week now, and it is good. Sure, I've been really confused as to what season it is. (I keep thinking that it is fall, as I'm returning to St. Louis after being somewhere warm.) Sure, I've had wacky dreams each night. (Why am I dreaming about my high school reunion, when it is my college reunion that is coming up??) Sure, the dogs didn't have their toenails clipped all year, and clearly haven't been walked past the end of the driveway. Sure, my gardens are filled with weeds, and the house is filled with mail (most of which can be recycled I'm sure). Sure, I keep wandering into school each day. (It's where all my friends are, plus I don't have a computer at home right now, and I am hoping that if I keep showing up they will eventually offer me a job again...)

But it is really, really good to be back. It smells right, it sounds right, it feels right. It is so nice to see all my friends again, and my old students, and my family, and even my old-lady dogs. I can call my friends any time I want (and some of them even answer the phone). I drove a car today for the first time in almost eight months. It's just like riding a bike (which I've only done once in the last eight months).

I did have to chuckle to myself the other day as I was doing some errands with my mom (no matter how old I am, I revert to being a petulant teenager when I'm doing errands with my mother, but to my credit, she says it will be an hour, and it turns into three!), and we were stuck in traffic. This past year I have spent HOURS waiting for buses, trains, planes, which I've done with complete calm and patience. Such is life. No big deal. What's an extra three hours at the airport? But I come home and suddenly an extra round of being stuck at a stoplight and I am irate. I figured out that the solution was to take the Metrolink and then walk. I am in charge, I am happy, and I'm getting exercise. (Walking the dogs doesn't count as exercise, because I think my heart rate actually goes DOWN.)

I always knew this, but my life is really good. It is filled with beautiful things, beautiful surroundings, and beautiful people. It's nice to be truly reminded of this now and again.

Surprise!

My flight home was booked for May 5th, but a few weeks ago when I got an email from my brother with pictures of my niece and nephew and my heart just hurt, and then when I thought about having three weeks of travel in Costa Rica and I started to cry, I thought to myself, Why can't I just go home earlier? And then I thought, Why CAN'T I go home earlier?? There was no reason I needed to stay in Costa Rica, and clearly the joy of travel had dissipated, so what I really needed to do was just go home. Once I made that decision (especially after I realized that the cost of changing my ticket would be less than the cost of a week of hostels and food), I suddenly was happy and whistling and humming (something other than Homeward Bound).

So I changed my ticket, but told almost no one. The last few days in Costa Rica I kept saying to myself, "48 hours from RIGHT NOW, I'll be on a plane.... I'll be on the Metrolink... I'll be in MY bed." The last days on the road were just treading water until I could come home. On Wednesday evening I arrived in St. Louis, caught the Metrolink, and walked with a very light step (and a pretty light backpack) down the road to my house. My father was in NYC, so I knew not to expect his car, but mom's car wasn't there either. Oh well. The door, however, was unlocked, so in I went. I greeted my dogs (who seemed to know me a little, or just appreciated the fact that I was someone to pet them), greeted the stranger who was sitting in the kitchen (not a surprise at all to have a stranger in the kitchen... although I eventually figured out that she was a classmate of my mother's who was in town for their 50th reunion), and then got about the business of doing laundry.

When I heard mom's car pulling in, and I went and sat on the doorstep and awaited her. She came around the corner of the porch, looked at me blankly for a moment, said, "Oh my god!" and then was rendered speechless for a few minutes (that never happens!). I did much the same thing the next day at school. My teammates (still present tense, so far as I'm concerned) were on a field trip of course, so I had to wait around until they came back. In the mean time I wandered through the halls, chatting with teachers and kids, generally wreaking havoc around the school. I pretty much was a rock star, with kids (and some adults) screaming my name and running to give me hugs. It does a lot of good for one's ego! (Although there were some older kids who asked if I had been gone three years. Either they missed me THAT much or else they don't really have a good sense of time.)

When my teammates reappeared I just stood in the hall as the first grade filed past me. When they saw me, they too looked blankly at me while they processed that I was there but shouldn't be, then squealed and gave me hugs. They said that they were going to surprise ME by picking me up at the airport next week. Oh well, sorry to wreck your surprise, but now we have a few more days to hang out!

After school I loitered in the hallways and got to see lots of my favorite parents. LOTS of hugs, lots of smiles, and lots of good feelings all around.

On Friday I flew to NYC (my morning flight was cancelled and afternoon flight was delayed two hours, but I ran into another parent friend at the airport, so it was worth it) with my mom to come to a birthday party here. We hadn't told my father (who was already in NY) that I was coming, so when he opened the door of the apartment of Tommy the Wig (the only person I HAD told I'd be coming home, as I needed to ask to stay at his apartment as well) and expected to see mom, he got me. Another blank stare, then hugs and tears.

Oh, there is no place like home. It is soooo good to be back, and not just because I actually can flush the toilet paper here. It is normal, it is right. Everything is as it should be. I even got to polish some silver this morning. Life is good....