So…I have been debating on whether or not I should start to save up my money to fly back to California for two weeks (assuming I decide to continue here for whatever length of time) or to begin to plan another trip. I REALLY would like to make my way back over to Britain again for some length of time and hop to Ireland. I also wouldn’t mind hitting Spain/Portugal…Plus there is the ever illusive Sweden. And maybe Prague. Opinions from anyone out there?
Anonymous asked: Hey there, i work with your mom, actually in a different Department, but deal with your mom some and she is wonderful. I was asking about her trip to see you and she gave me your blog address. It is so awesome to have the experience that you've had and i think you are on the right track as far as your thinking about returning to California. If you like what you're doing, and what an experience that would be, then you need to go with yourgut feeling and continue on your path. Take care! Tina
Hi Tina,
It was so great to have my mom here with me for those few days. She does seem to give out my blog like it was candy! Haha! But thanks for the advice. I am incredibly indecisive and any input will help to sway me. Although lord knows I will wait to the last second to actually decide. Thanks and say hi to my mom for me!
Since I have been getting a lot of crap for neglecting my little travel blog, I will update whatever masses are out there. As most of you can see from my previous post, I was just on another trip to Paris with my mother who came to visit and then to Strasbourg on an unplanned extension vacation.
It was ridiculously fantastic to have my mother in the same time zone let alone the same country and ultimately, city and space, as I am in. She was on a cruise with my stepfather for ten days before making her way to Trevoux for two. Then we went to Paris for four days. We stayed in a beautiful apartment in Montparnasse with my stepsister and her husband, my stepbrother, stepfather, my mom and I. I spent as much time with my mom as I could, including watching the second series of Sherlock together. It was great. I wish we could have had more time. She also got pick-pocketed by some gypsy kids on the metro. That sucked.
Then, after they left to fly back home, I was back on the TGV heading for Strasbourg. Romain was originally supposed to go for a conference and he couldn’t get his money back for the hotel so he asked if I wanted to go. I said ‘sure’. Little did I know that it was directly following my Paris trip. Strasbourg was a great place with some great Alsacian food and some good times. Plus, I got to jump the border and hang out in Germany for two hours. Really, that’s all I wanted. I’ve never been that interested in Germany and I felt incredibly out of place knowing not a bit of the language. So, check.
I think that at this point, my life will most likely consist of people asking when I’m coming home, if I’m coming home or how long I am going to stay here. I am asking myself these same questions. Technically, I would come home at the end of August or early September. I don’t know what I will end up doing. I mean, should I leave a job that I like with a family I love to go back to California where there is a 90% chance that I won’t find a job even remotely close to what I want to do? Hell, I don’t even know what I want to do. I know what I don’t want to do. I don’t want to cave and be a teacher, regardless of how many people think I would be a good one. I don’t want to be in a system, especially in California that is so hindered by bad teachers, no money and the pressure to perform that it leaves the well-being of its children by the wayside. Don’t get me wrong, I have known and had some amazing teachers but I don’t think by any means that they are the majority. I don’t really want to go to grad school. Yes, I could and I know that there is a better chance of me finding a job that pays well that way but honestly, I was never really that spectacular at academics (at least not in my later years) and everyone that has been there (mostly Annette) has told me that it isn’t a good idea if I don’t really have the passion for it. And I don’t in the least.
The truth is, I don’t really have a goal. I wanted to act. After that, there was nothing. There really still is nothing although now it’s nothing with a degree in child and adolescent development and emphasis in family and community contexts. Woopty doo. I just don’t want to get stuck in some dead-end job that barely gets me by and leaves me no time to travel or have any fun.
Paris and Strasbourg…with a bit of Kehl, Germany thrown in.
For those of you wondering, yes I’m still here. I haven’t been on much since I got back from Britain, mainly because I don’t have much to say. I miss Britain. I felt very at home there. I walked the streets of Bath picturing how I could make that into a daily routine or how easily I picked up directions on the Tube in London. Little things that, to some, may be irrelevant or attributed to something else. But for me, they mean I was at peace with the place I was. I have not felt that in a long time. I never felt it living in Southern California, regardless of the company I kept or the fun I may have had. I never loved the place. In Merced, I always felt a kind of obligation to attach myself to it. I mean, you’re supposed to be at home in your hometown. I never really did. I love France. I do, despite the language barrier. Could I see myself living here and starting a family? No. I don’t think I was meant to. I was meant to come and experience but not to stay.
I’m pretty confused right now. I’m at that crossroads where I need to choose my next step. A huge part of me wants to seek out another au pair job in Britain, where I originally wanted to go but couldn’t due to the British policy on American au pairs. Now, that doesn’t apply since I have my newly found UK citizenship. I could have my pick, whether I wanted to try for a city or the country, whether I wanted England or Scotland. I most likely wouldn’t stay a year since right now that just seems like a bit much to give up after already working in France for a year. Maybe six months. Then, the other…15 percent of me wants to go back to the States to get a job and sort of stabilize. I found myself the other day wishing that I had an apartment in a city. That I could be one of the 20 somethings on all the TV shows that get an apartment with their best friends and they all work the 9-5 and go out at night. The take each other to lunch. Eventually they move in with their boyfriend/girlfriend and it all gets square from there. That part of me wishes for the normalcy. Is now the time that I decide I have lived abroad, seen what I wanted and plan to see more on vacations with my husband and 2.5 kids in 10 years? When does ‘normalcy’ get to take the wheel?
One of my biggest faults is that I tend to over-think things. I know this. Every acting teacher, every director I had told me to get out of my head. I never really have. Now that I have brought myself to this place, I keep seeking guidance from those around me. Everyone from family to friends to strangers. I think I even caught myself trying to ask 2 year old Desiree if she thinks Kadi should stay in Europe. I know that this isn’t something I should seek counsel for. While opinions are nice to have and while I would love to be able to blame bad things on the ones who suggested them to me, this is not something that can be left up to a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Those of you who know me know that making a decision, be it what to have for dinner to what internship to apply for, has never been my strong suit. I avoid decisions like the plague. Somehow, I don’t think I can avoid this one for much longer…
Le temps est un grand maître, dit-on, le malheur est qu’il tue ses élèves.
A sampling of pictures from the UK
Yes, I don’t count today because I will be done with today in three hours. THREE MORE DAYS UNTIL I LEAVE FOR THE FATHERLAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Exactly ten days from now, I will be getting on a plane to Britain. This has been a dream of mine since I was little and I am so excited and blessed that my current circumstances allow me to get there now. I’ve got great bosses who encourage me to travel while I’m here. I’ve got the funds (kinda). I’ve got the passport (woot woot). I’ve even got 30 pounds in cold hard cash thanks to Romain.
I planned the crap out of this trip and I am so stoked.
So, first off, sorry about the neglect. Although I believe I did say in my first post that I couldn’t promise regular blogs. I can’t even keep a diary. Second, for those of you to care, I have crazy planned my trip to the UK in March. In the 8 days I will be there I will be in Bristol, Bath, London, Luton, Edinburgh and Glasgow for sure as well as any places I may end up unplanned. I will see two shows (hopefully, depending on ticket situation). I also plan on Edinburgh castle is next door to my hostel. Any other suggestions, especially in and around London let me know.
Next, everything is still going very well here au pair-wise. I’m currently attempting to write this on my ipod while I have Desiree drinking milk on my lap. Forgive any grammatical errors that may arise for they belong to autocorrect, not me. They are on vacation for two weeks. Americans will love this. They have random spurts of two week breaks. I swear they are in school way less that we were. Now, they are only out for August in the summer but they get every Wednesday afternoon off for seemingly no reason. Whack.
Now, for the deep portion of the post: what constitutes ‘home’? I’ve been asking myself this question a lot this week. My introspection was inspired by the song ‘Home’ sung by Blake Shelton. In it, he sings about all the different locations he goes and how he just wants to go home. For him, it’s to his wife. For me, I’m not so sure I have a ‘home’ yet. I have a hometown, of course; one I don’t care to call ‘home’ ever again. Before my family get offended most of you know I don’t and never have planned on staying in Merced, because, well, Merced sucks. I don’t think I have been ‘home’ in quite a long time. I don’t exactly know yet if home is a ‘where’ or a ‘who’. The romantic part of me would love to say that home is absolutely a ‘who’ and no matter where in the world you are as long as they are with you you are home. The problem is that the rational see chimes in about how foolish it would be to invest the notion of the one place you will always be vulnerable in a person, not to mention the fact that there are many places I would never want to be, regardless of who I am with. Maybe it’s because I haven’t found that person yet that my rational self can be heard so loudly. I have never been one to lead solely with my heart or my head but maybe this is a matter I would have to.
I would love to have that feeling of being home again. I know I had it as a kid. I think then that my home may have been people; my parents, my grandma. Now that I’m older, I can’t say that anymore. Not for any lack of love for them but more out of the feeling of change and that I need to make my own home rather than depend on them. I have always prided myself on my, for lack of a better word, independence and my ability to pick up, leave everyone and everything I love and start with nothing. Now, I think, being in an established home, I don’t know that being adaptable in that way is so much a thing to be proud of. I have spent my incredibly short adult life focusing on things that now hold very little place in my life (while still a large portion of my heart). While I would not want to be settled yet, I can’t help but wonder if my priorities have been off. I mean, should I be back in the States with a desk job, going out on the weekends, meeting nice guys in bars who won’t leave their hometowns and expect me to stay with them? I never though that was my path but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I am supposed to call my hometown, my ‘home’.
What is ‘home’ and where can I find it because I think it would be really peaceful to find that bliss again.
