Occupation: Superhero

At my pre school graduation every single one of us was asked to tell the audience composed of parents, brothers, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and family friends what we planned to be when we grew up. The answers ranged from firefighters to doctors to lawyers to dentists. Why our pre-k teachers were asking us what we wanted to be when we were barely old enough to pronounce three syllable words really is beyond me, but nonetheless, I responded by saying I wanted to be the first female president. If I had known what that meant, when I was just a four year old, I probably would have said “Anything but the president.”

And if it were four years ago, I may have said “I want to be a sports broadcaster,” but now I know exactly what I want to be, and that is a superhero. I want to be able to save the world one great cause at a time. I want to impact someone who then in turn impacts someone else, which thus results in a continuous line of impact.

I want to provide the world with a kaleidoscope of viewpoints. I want to make a change.

I think part of me first realized this when a teacher once told me that I was going to change the world. This was soon after learning that my college field hockey program had been cut from the University of Rhode Island. At that point in my life, I had completely believed that sports were the only thing that mattered and that if sports didn’t exist then well, nothing else did either.

The other part of me realized how much I wanted to make a difference in the world when I was exchanging emails with a newly acquainted pen pal on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. Instead of defining myself to him as an athlete or field hockey player, I told him that I was a writer and a traveler and that I had hoped to learn of new things of the places I was traveling, with his help, since he had traveled before as well. I wanted to learn more about the world so I could impact the world as it was impacting me.

In the last nine months, I have lived in New York City, wishing that I could help every homeless person to a piece of bread, and every child without an education to a simple math problem. I have lent my hand to people by opening the door for them even when they walked away without saying thank you, and I have given up my seat to strangers following a long day at work. I have made an effort to save the world one small task at a time, and at the end of the day I have felt both wonderful and inspired because of it. Since coming to New York, I have been changed. I may not have a full-time career just yet, but I know that putting the word superhero next to occupation is beginning to look more and more like the full-time job that I would like to take on.

And to be honest, while sports scores interest me on a “brain candy” level (as my tenth grade English teacher might refer to it)…saving the world just seems much more appealing.

Eighty Years CANNOT be Enough

I discovered today that the average lifespan of a person is between 80 and 100 years. This actually saddens me. EIGHTY YEARS? I have already lived 1/4th of that?! And lived is an overstatement, because I spent much of that time worrying about the little things like--grades or how many calories were in a chocolate bar...or what to wear. I spent too much time WORRYING and not living.

A lot of people tell me that I am only 22 years old and that I have so much time left to discover all the wonderful things that this world has to offer. But then I get concerned that I am ALREADY 22. There is no way that I had enough time to color enough coloring books, trace enough drawings, or eat enough sugar before I realized how bad sugar was. So my new goal, with my move to Italy closing in, is to learn how to enjoy even the most simple things like a coloring book I didn't finish when I was younger, or a pack of smarties --or a rainbow after a rainy day.




Eighty years is not enough time to discover the other side of the rainbow without seeing the rest of the world. But it's worth giving it a try.

What makes us human

Coming from a boy, sitting behind a desk, in a middle school classroom, I could hear the response to a question my teacher had just posed: "Didn't a plane crash into them or something?"

Our history teacher had just asked us if we knew what the twin towers were. As 8th graders, we all knew what they were, but we never really knew the magic of them or what daily events went on there.

In the minutes following the news from our teacher that the twin towers had been under attack, our principal at the time, got on the PA system and asked that all teachers turn off their televisions and computers. On a day when mass chaos filled the streets of where I now live, I had never felt so disconnected.

At the time, I couldn't understand the hugeness of what was going on, but I did feel lost and angry that I didn't have the chance. My field hockey practice got canceled after school, and I went home with my then best friend where we began to get some more explanations from her mom. Words like "terrorism" and "war" were thrown out in the open, and for the first time in my life I heard the name "Osama Bin Laden."

That day was so surreal as I remember being able to see a faint bit of smoke from my kitchen window in the direction of where Flight 93 had crashed in Pennsylvania. Nine years later, I have a much better understanding on a day that now has a permanent place in history books.

This day has sparked debate, discussion, and many more questions in the last years as man people have chosen to look deeper into what cause the 9-11 incident.

While nothing seems clear about the attacks themselves, still, one thing has been very clear, and that is how it has affected each and every person differently.

Whether it is my story, or the one I posted months ago from my colleage (Story) , everyone's story is different.

On Thursday, as I read through the new Jorge and Laura Posada book, I was thrown a curve ball. Suddenly I was not only reading about the struggle of their son's illness, but now I was reading about Laura's 9-11 experience, in which her son was downtown at a hospital and she was uptown at home trying to get some rest. But as news came of the twin towers, she went into panic mode, and rushed out the door in the direction of the twin towers. She described the moment in great detail and it became clear that nothing else mattered at that moment to her than her baby boy.

As tears filled my eyes during my four train ride from the Bronx back into Manhattan, I realized how intensely emotions and experiences differed for people that day. And with 9-11 now upon us, today, for the 9th year since the attacks, I can only imagine that the feelings of loss and sadness running high.

The history books may dwell on concrete facts, but it is the stories that make it all real--the feelings--the thoughts--the hopes. It is these things that make that day. It is these things that make us human.

We will always remember.

Outsourced

Outsourced

With the economic crisis, it is very rare to walk through Manhattan, tell people that your degree is in communication with a focus on journalism, and then be told that you have chosen the perfect career path and that many jobs are opening up. The awful truth is that journalism is on its death bed, undergoing an agonizing execution in which it is kept breathing only because companies are willing to hire on the cheap. This either means that companies are hiring very few people to do many, many tasks at decent proficiency, rather than many talented crew members who can bring a wealth of knowledge in a variety of areas—or that companies are outsourcing.

According to USA Today, in 2008, MediaNews Group CEO Dean Singleton suggested that “papers should explore outsourcing in nearly every aspect of their operations.”

Well if news outlets are going to be outsourcing… then I have made an executive decision for myself…I am going to outsource myself. So with that, I bid adieu to New York City, to the United States, and I embark, in two months, on a trip to Italy in which I hope to first excel in a four week course that will grant me the certificate which makes me completely marketable as a teacher in Italy and to second: find a placement in Rome, the city that I considered to be my home for three months in 2008.

Things aren’t going to be easy. In fact, finding a placement may be very difficult seeing as the EU rules are very strict about who can and cannot work in Italy. However, life is not easy now: for instance, my apartment isn’t perfect—and I am not sure it will ever be a perfect apartment…I sleep on the floor, a dog sleeps in the kitchen next to me which makes my fan blow lovely dog scents my way each night, and the living space outside my room is small. In addition, I currently am unemployed—call it a casualty of the economy and recession, or just call it plain crappy. So leaving uneasy—to go to well…possibly more uneasy isn’t really scaring me away just yet. I am reminded by my peers and people I look up to that I am young and that this is the time to take chances and see the world, even if it doesn’t work out the way I planned. A good friend even noted not to worry that “America will always take me back.”

But with outsourcing my services and self to another country, I hope that I am able to make future contacts and employment opportunities past my hopeful year of employment as an English teacher. Seeing as I did not go to school to teach and how I am the oddball female of the family (My mother and sister are both English teachers…sheesh), it is my full determination to find a job internationally related to communications and media. So while America may always take me back—I am not sure coming back is what I hope to do.

The results of all this is that I may not live on more than a low income for many years of my life and I may not live in a big old mansion overlooking Lake Eerie or Lake Michigan, but I will be dedicating my life to living out what I want to do…in the places I want to do it. It’s time to make mistakes, and be happy with those mistakes…and with that I say: Bon Voyage.

Island Air

I think I just needed a bit of island air to get back in the groove. Let's face it, it has been quite a while since I have taken the time to simply sit down and post, but I found myself with plenty of time as I boarded my first flight to Bermuda approximately two weeks ago. This was a flight that actually shipped me out a day later than planned due to a "tropical storm," that much like job opportunities recently, never hit.

The trip to Bermuda, which I am now on my final tour of, was a long time coming as I first learned of the job back in March. In the weeks leading up to my time in Bermuda, I guess you could say I was a bit uninspired by New York City, but that's because in the last few months I have rarely been there.

As of two weeks ago, I still work three days a week in PA and weekends have been spent going to Suffern to see friends, hang out on the beach, and avoid my NYC apartment at all cost. Like a true New Yorker (ha, as if) I have learned that New York City is quite miserable when it is hot out, and it has been one really freaking hot summer...on the real.

There is nothing less attractive than the idea of walking in 85% humidity to the train station and then waiting underground with 115% humidity. I mean really--I NEVER have to buy a sauna membership...I just have to walk down the subway steps.

And sleeping in the city heat...forget it. Maybe some of my problem steams from the fact that I sleep on the floor, not a bed...so my comfort level begins at about a 0, but add the heat and two less than helfpul fans, and you got yourself sleeping in nearly nothing (Note: I keep the blinds closed) to try and find a cool breeze. Needless to say, it's not pleasant.

Sweating becomes a daily--no--minutely issue.

I always wondered why the characters on Gossip Girl did summer getaways--and NEVER stayed in the city...because it really is the concrete jungle without the exotic animals.

So without saying TOO much more, I can say that I am looking forward to fall and enjoying the outdoors of the city all over again--the way I did in the spring, that is...before the winter hits and I find myself describing the miserable walks in the cold and endless tunnels--I guess the city can't always be perfect...but a girl can dream.

Real World

Song lyric of the day : "I wish the real world would just stop hassling me"

So everyone knows that one of the chores that recent grads must deal with is finding health insurance, while also trying to find full-time jobs, because if there is no full-time job--well then there is no health insurance--at least until September...because well ObamaCare doesn't go into effect until then.

So needless to say after that first paragraph, I am going to go on record to say that I have been living without health insurance for over two months now, and that legitimately scares me. One: I don't have the money to support myself if God Forbid something terrible forces me to go to the doctor. And 2. Because I am a freelance production assistant, it means that I have also been putting myself in harms way at my job by lifting heavy boxes, playing with fire, etc. 3. because I live in NYC a majority of the week and there are lots more places to pick up colds, flus, get hit by random bikers (like I did on my birthday), and apparently bed bugs, than there are in my hometown of PA...again making me more prone to accidents or having to visit a dr.

Now--I haven't purposely been living without health insurance. I have been attempting to get myself health insurance since the day I graduated. I filled out paperwork, what felt like endless pages on the computer, and then i sat and waited. A few weeks later I went through underwriter questions on the telephone based on pre-existing issue I dealt with last year, and then I sat and waited again--and waited some more, until three weeks ago the insurance company that I was seeking insurance through called both my house phone and my cell phone to say they had to ask me questions. They then continued by sending me an email--immediately following the phone calls that I was unable to attend to. When I called back, I was put on hold for nearly a half hour, and I hung up. This resulted in me not having time to call back again, which resulted in chaos that will I will refrain from writing about on a public blog.

So today, I made time to make a phone call. I made the call, reached a real person--not an automated machine asking me to hold--and they asked me why I was calling them...that they had no record of needing to talk to me any further and that my status was still under review

I then responded by asking why do I keep getting calls asking me to call them back and the woman on the other side, with a tension in her voice answered my question by saying that it was automated and that I would continue getting the call until my status updated. When I asked why, if they had no questions for me, would the system still need to continue wasting my time...she answered by saying "that's just the way the system works."

So at the end of the day, there is still chaos--and there is still no health insurance. I sit ...still waiting in harms way.

Getting our priorities straight

Someone said to me today:
When is Chelsea Clinton getting married?
And my response was: The Gulf is filled with oil...and Haiti is still struggling...yet this is what our media and it's readers concern themselves with.

As of recently, I have been asked to transcribe many interviews about the free and cheap things to do in the five boroughs of New York. One of the interviews revolved around composting, another revolved around the water treatment plant in Greenpoint, and a third revolved around rooftop gardens in Greenpoint and eating locally. Also, as of recently, my favorite actress, Sophia Bush has made it very well-known that completely in support of a greener environment and has offered many many tweets publicly letting people know about how she feels about the oil disaster in the Gulf. She and on/off screen boyfriend Austin Nichols have worked hard to show their fans and others how much the Gulf has been struggling and what we can do to help. They have also started to raise funds via


http://www.crowdrise.com/sophiabush and

http://www.crowdrise.com/austinnichols

Thus far Sophia has raised $7,000 and Austin has raised over 4.5 thousand. Whether you can donate a 10 dollars, words of encouragement, or a helping hand, anything will help, and it's time that all kick it into overdrive--this is our nation and surrounding nations we are talking about and it's important.


To leave off...here is a Jimmy Fallon tweet:
immyfallon

jimmyfallon: British PM Cameron & Obama gave each other pieces of art. It’s not necessary, Britain. You already gave us a HUGE oil painting