Monday, July 25, 2011
Now, my thighs I have long accepted (Hear that, monster??), but the idea of being stuck here, in a job like this, IN A JOB LIKE THHIIIIIISSSSS, FOREVER?!?!?! Boy that got me. I was alarmed. I wanted to get a pen and some paper, plot my life plan, set deadlines and make sure that I will get somewhere far- at least far away from where I currently stand career-wise. Don’t get me wrong. I do not totally hate my job; Hate is a strong word. I wouldn’t be able to stay for 2 years (and counting) if it’s that bad. But I am now in a state of absolute certainty that this isn’t for me in the long run, that as much as I find fulfillment in what I am doing, there is no place for a job like this in my future. And in order to re-establish my path towards somewhere else, I have to start eliminating options, focus on fewer things and start as soon as possible.
I am 22 (insert “only” between the last two words) and I am aware of the popular song lyrics that go something like:
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.
Thank you, Baz Luhrmann, for the encouraging words but they do nothing to console my troubled soul.
To be young and clueless- that doesn’t sound bad, right? Sounds like a privilege, even. But there is a point where what used to be an exciting future is transformed into a scary thought- a point I wouldn’t ever want to cross over. I know I shouldn’t worry too much and just grant myself enough time, but when you see everyone else around you moving, transferring, getting lost but at least getting somewhere, it is terrifying.
This year, the boyfriend resigned from the firm and started his own business. He is now what he can proudly claim to be an entrepreneur, which spells everything but cluelessness. He figured out what he wanted to do for the rest of his life at 22. No, scratch that. He knew long before what he wanted and mustered all the courage to start at 22. He now deals with handling employees, taking care of the rent, pleasing his customers and filing his very own income tax return! There was one time, while walking along Taft, I pointed at his shop and asked him if he feels proud whenever he sees it, because, honestly (as cheesy as this sounds), the first time I saw it I felt like crying! It was so surreal; it felt a lot like graduation- only better. At least, one of us is on track. I appreciate his patience and understanding, allowing me to explore options and even listen to my never-ending “someday” monologue. But this ache I feel, the craving for my own turning point, this is not brought about by external pressures; this is all on me.
Therefore, it is only upon me to take action.
I have a vivid picture of how I want my life to be when I hit 28. I have a vision, and maybe for now that would be enough. I know the answer to the millions of hypothetical questions I torture my brain with- in that specified time period and onwards. But for the years between today to that, I am yet to figure out.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Project Stepford Wife: Baby steps!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
My achiever of a cousin. Isn't she pretty, too? :)
When you ponder the question, “What do you do?”—you’ll be surprised where it can lead you to. I met an energetic, friendly 26-year-old girl named Lynn Pinugu. She runs a nonprofit school. I already found this interesting, but learning more about her opened up a whole new world for me.
Read the entire article HERE.
I’m so proud that she is leading a life that matters, AT HER AGE! She has a poor, but purposeful life, while I, well, I’m just poor.
Good Lord, I just want to give my dad his own “cutting out of the newspaper other than my board exam result” moment. Someday. It runs in the family- right, right, that’s what they say.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
A Sob Story
With Blue Valentine, though, it was different. Very different.
There are not enough words in my very limited vocabulary to describe vividly how it made me feel. What I know is that, despite the many obscene parts that may seem too offensive if to be viewed alone, I got past all those awkward moments and was able to dig well into the blatant honesty of this story, embrace the authenticity of the characters and, even with all attempts of preventing it, weep uncontrollably.
The story, in a word, is real.
It is so real statistics will tell you it happens half the time.
Sad, but true.
Happy (?) birthday to meeeee!
Celebrating 2 years of balancing passion and practicality. I love (?) my job. :))
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