I’ve spent a majority of the day today trying desperately to reorganize my room. I just simply have way too much stuff. And unlike previous summers, where I was planning on only living at home for a couple months, I need to find room for it all on a more permanent basis. But alas, this entire house is a mess and filled to the brim with junk. I need a desk, I need workspace, I need room for storage. As to how I’m going to find that here at home, I don’t know. And considering my current lack of employment and poor financial state, the option “move out” isn’t quite available yet.

There’s a problem…I have way too many books

Last Friday I finally managed to be social and went out with friends. Derrick Rose was due to make an appearance at a nightclub in Chicago, so we scrounged up the money and went. It was crowded and packed, and I only saw very few glimpses of the boy and other NBA players (mostly through my camera) but nevertheless it was a fun time. I will say, though, that it had been a long time since I’d felt so…young. You see, by the end of my senior year in college, I had taken over my college town. I regularly cut lines at the bars, knew the bouncers, befriended managers, got cheap drinks, knew people already out partying. Things were comfortable, and my ego was at an all-time high. Even in Costa Rica, I had managed to paint the country red multiple times and befriended numerous people. But at the club on Friday, I felt like a little girl playing dress up. The DJ was doing shout-outs, saying things like, “Where all the single ladies at? Where all the college educated ladies at? Where all the ladies with no babies?” I cheered excitedly, of course, but then my friends and I just had to grin sheepishly when he started saying things like, “Raise your hands if you employed! Raise your hands if you just got paid! Raise your hands if you’re over 24! Raise your hands if you got more than $100 in your pocket!” I don’t do designers, I don’t roll around with $100 bills in my pocket. Guess we’re just not there yet.

Derrick freaking Rose

Friday night also marked my first time in the city as a college graduate (lame milestone, I know). One man actually swooped in and put his arms around my waist by the end of the night. I was so confused at first, it took me a while to realize that he was shamelessly hitting on me. I was so taken aback when he kept asking “What do I need to do to take you out to lunch or something?” I mean, in college, guys are all, “What’s yo’ number? Let’s hang.” This dude had two phones on him (“One for work”) and was begging to have dinner with me. And when he found out I was only 21, he looked slightly apprehensive but pressed on nevertheless. I never responded to his text yesterday though.

Then Sunday I went to the Gay Pride Parade in Chicago. It was a day full of merriment, dancing and drinking. At one point we were chilling in a Jewel Osco parking lot with our booze when a female employee approached me. At first I thought she was about to tell us off but instead she hands me a piece of paper. Since I was at Pride, I instinctively thought it’d be her number or something (definitely would not have been the first time a lesbian’s given me digits). Then I opened the piece of paper and it was a message from some guy: “You’re stunning. Contact me? Steve.” Apparently though, Steve was a creepo in glasses, who didn’t even leave me a phone number but an AOL email address instead.

There surely has to be better prospects somewhere in this state!

The time has come for me to decide what direction I want to go in for the rest of my life…or at the very least, my immediate future life. ‘Cause as much as I don’t want to admit it to myself, I really can’t decide. I don’t really know quite what to do. I don’t know what my next step is.

Throughout most of college I operated under the idea that someday I would work in book publishing. It’s a fantasy that had formed shortly after I first saw Bridget Jones’s Diary sometime during junior year of high school. And when I declared my English major, I figured books were my number one love (tied with piano/music, I suppose) and why not pick an industry that involved them? As it is, I currently do have a fair amount of writing and editing experience, I would say, not only in book publishing but also in journalism.

But alas, book publishing jobs are not really to be found much here in Chicago. My future dream is to find a fab one somewhere in New York City or London. But the thing is…I don’t want to move away right now. Ironic, right? Me, the girl who’s been itching to get the heck out of America, is trying her best right now to stay at home. It saves money and gives me the chance to help out my family. In a few years I can see myself moving out to the aforementioned cities…but right now I just don’t want to.

So therein lies the problem. What do I do now? I need money. I need something to do. I need to start saving up for when I travel around the world and for when I eventually move out of the Midwest. I could do journalism here. I guess.

Yet…I still have other dreams. Other fantasies. Such as…

• Working for ESPN. As an NBA sideline reporter, to be specific. I am so obsessed with basketball, I know I’d have the right enthusiasm. Although there’s a good chance I might start declaring my love for some of the athletes in public were I to actually meet them in person. Besides, don’t networks want pretty girls on their channels to attract more male viewers? Just sayin’.
• Being a librarian at a big city library. I can’t imagine ever wanting to spend the rest of my life as a librarian at my local library (which pales pitifully in comparison to the public library in my college town), but I’ve often fantasized about working at a giant public library (the main branch, obviously) in Chicago or New York City.
• Working either for the United Nations or somewhere abroad (or, ideally, both). I attended a workshop last semester on finding jobs with the United States’ State Department (meaning embassy jobs abroad). Getting paid to live somewhere abroad? Freaking hellz yeah.

And then…there’s the last option. Pursuing a legal career. Going to law school. It’s a very very tempting idea. People have been telling me to become a lawyer ever since I was about 5 years old (“Because you wouldn’t shut up and stop arguing as a kid,” my older cousin claims). My grandfather on my mom’s side was a prominent lawyer in his day, and like I previously said, my grandfather on my dad’s side originally was planning on becoming one. If ever there was something in the stars for me, it’s becoming a lawyer. I even took law classes in high school and was enrolled in a law course during undergrad for a time (I had to drop the class in order to take another one that was required for my minor). But again…what would I be doing exactly in law? Only thing I can think of wanting to practice is something international-y. I don’t really know that part yet.

I don’t know anything yet. Except that I’m broke and need some form of employment ASAP.

First of all, today this blog turns two years old. Feels strangely like a long time, although in the realm of things it isn’t anymore. I’ve been blogging since I was 11 or 12, so overall my words have been floating around out there on the Internet for over 10 years. Wowzer. At any rate, happy second anniversary, bumplum!

The Philippines was, for the most part, a blast. I met so many family members and went to so many places…and also ended up getting ridiculously sick. Muscle pains, backaches, fevers, headaches, upset stomachs, you name it. Everyone was convinced it was the change in climate and that I wasn’t used to the tropical weather (apparently the four months I spent in Central America didn’t mean a thing). To their credit, there were several bagyos and several low pressure storm systems that popped up, which I wasn’t used to in Costa Rica, so maybe they’re to blame? I also did a lot of shopping, watched a lot of TV (mainly basketball and teleseryes, thank god for BTV), and overall just relaxed. Oh, and returned to the gloriousness that is a tropical beach:

White Beach, Boracay Island

And glorious indeed. Boracay was every bit as gorgeous as advertised, just way more touristy than I anticipated. I felt almost exactly as if I were back at Playa Jaco or Playa Samara in Costa Rica…sans the insane partying and sexy Latin men, of course.

I also learned several very interesting things about my family:

• My grandfather on my dad’s side died of a heart attack while he (my dad) was in college. Not only was he a Philippine soldier who served in World War II for the U.S. Army, he was going to study law afterward but decided to stay a soldier instead. That would have been two grandfather lawyers for me; no wonder my entire family believes I’m destined to become one.
• My mother’s oldest sister, the aunt I never knew, had died from internal injuries sustained in a jeepney accident. Apparently my aunt, who was pregnant at the time, never sought treatment after the accident, and by the time she realized she was sick it was too late. It was the first time my mom told me the whole story. Oh, and guess what? She studied English literature in college!!!! No wonder my mother never made fun of me nor gave me crap about my English major like you would have expected an Asian mother to do…amazing. I feel even more closer now to my oldest aunt, who died before I was born and like me, was the oldest in the family.
• My parents first met in Saudi Arabia. I always knew Saudi was a source of connection between my parents, but I didn’t know the whole story…and in fact, I’ve got a lot more family in Saudi Arabia than I first thought. Not only have my parents and some aunts lived there, my uncle and other aunts still do. It’s crazy. I’ve always been fascinated by Saudi Arabia, and now I’d like to go there someday. Are Americans allowed to travel there for tourist reasons? Must find this out.

At any rate, now I am home. No more vacations, no more dilly-dallying. I have graduated from college and moved back into my parents’ house. Most unfortunately, I am completely unemployed. I decided not to return to my old seasonal job, and have yet to line up my real first grown up one. I interviewed for a company before I left for the Philippines but they ended up rejecting me, which I wasn’t too sad about. So far I have yet to hear back from any of the jobs that I applied to before my vacation, and have now begun applying to more in earnest. I’m worried. Today I sent resumes online to three more places…and seriously, whoever said job hunting is a job in itself was right. I’m pooped. And still worried.

Let the realities of grown up-hood begin.

Eff eff eff. It’s 3:22 in the morning, I’ve barely packed, my room’s a mess, and I’m slowly dying inside from lack of sleep. Once again, I am having a devil of a time trying to unpack and pack at the same time, for a trip abroad no less. Though I’ve got the essentials down, it’s all a matter of actually stuffing everything in and zipping it all up. Doesn’t help that we’re supposed to be leaving the house at around 7.

This will be the first time in 17 years I’ll be visiting the Philippines, though in reality it just feels like this trip will be my very first. It’s also the first real family vacation we’re going on in a really long time. Just me, my parents, and my brothers, traipsing around the islands visiting family as well as tourist destinations. I’m incredibly nervous and excited at the same time. This isn’t going to be like Costa Rica — there I just “looked” like I could pass for a Latina and when I said I was American everyone was simply fascinated. This is me going to the “motherland,” where physically I should be able to blend in seamlessly but at the same time I know I’m going to feel incredibly self-conscious about being American.

Gyaahhh. Can’t really dwell on all this now though. Must. Finish. Packing!

Will be back in a little over two weeks!

Today’s my last day in Champaign. The next time I come here, it’ll be just for a visit and not for another semester. The feeling’s so surreal, and at the same time…not.

Yesterday two tornadoes blew through town. The sirens rang at around 7pm, the television was bleeping, and heavy rains and winds were beating down upon our little apartment. I even stupidly went outside to look at the skies, which sure enough were rotating and looked an eerie green. Scariest 20 minutes of my life. Luckily the tornadoes were somewhere far off campus. Great way to send me off, college.

It’s the fourth time in the past year that I’m packing up all my belongings and heading elsewhere. And this time, I’ll be going back home to the suburbs, where I haven’t “lived” since 2009. I have no friends left, no job. No car either. What I will be doing come June 18 (the day my family and I come back from the Philippines) is beyond me.

This good-bye is a little less epic and exciting than my last few days in Champaign last summer before studying abroad. There seems to be a scant amount of people still on campus this week and last night I merely downed my drinks sorrowfully than the usual socializing with a good crowd. There’s so many things I never got to do, like explore the main stacks at the library or get a salad from Za’s one more time (doesn’t help that it burnt down over spring break!). There’s so many final good-byes I never got to make.

Last night when my roommate and I returned home from the bars, I ended up a crying blubbering mess. I hate that my memories of college will be tainted because of a dumb boy and I hate that this dumb boy is still haunting me even though he doesn’t know it and probably doesn’t care.

And again, I’ll have to explain all this sometime soon…