What do I want to be when I grow up?

Rewind 3 years and I was graduating from UVM with a degree in Elementary Education, totally psyched to find a job and start teaching.  Well, totally psyched until I realized that I didn't have a chance in hell getting hired. Like anywhere.  So I picked up a restaurant job so I could afford to live and I kinda became at peace.  I briefly lost sight of my teaching goals and decided to invest in travel instead.  Totally still love that decision.  Seeing the world made me more, well, worldly.  And led me to a bilingual school in Madrid where I made my first tracks in teaching.  After over a year of European travel under my belt, and with endless destinations on my wish list, I moved home to regroup, and to try the applying game now that I had some interesting stuff on my resume.  20+ cover letters, resumes, and crossed fingers later, still nada.  Was I not trying hard enough, did I not want it bad enough? Yeah right, when I want something I go and get it, and I don't stop until I do because I'm a perfectionist and I have to have things my way.  Dammit.

So maybe, just maybe, it's time to spread my search to more than the college major I picked out SEVEN years ago, and devote some time to figuring out who am I TODAY.

So, who the fuck do I want to be when I grow up?

First narrowing points... who DON'T I want to be when I grow up:

1. The person who sits in their cubicle all day and leaves notes like, "please stop cracking your gum" and "whoever keeps stealing my hot pockets will be reported to HR" all over the office.
2. The person who is constantly focused on climbing the power ladder, wanting to become the top person; the one who is in charge of everyone ('s happiness). Yuck, get a hobby. Take up boxing or something. Works for me..
3. The person who has a job that is so intense and overwhelming that everything else is on the back burner (family, friends, travel... FUN, that stuff is seriously important too).
4. The person who wakes up in 30 years and say, "wait, shit, what did I do with my life?"

So, what are my choices now? I'm 25, I've got a lot of energy, and nothing technically permanently tying me to this specific dot on the map. Choices choices...

1. Sub until someone likes me enough to hire me, and then, at long last, have my own classroom.
2. Apply to a bunch of grad schools around the country (better yet, all around the world) in order to specialize my degree.
1. ESL? And then work in a city?
2. Special education?
3. Counseling?
4. Something totally different that strikes me as interesting?
3. Coach skating lessons full-time (and probably work at a bar to supplement whatever money I need to float my life)
4. Take a job in something entirely unrelated to my degree, just to see how it feels.
5. Travel until I'm broke, and then refer back to numbers 1-4 on this list.
6. Bartend until I wither away from lack of mental stimulation and a surplus of customers who say things like, "Did you even PUT any alcohol in this?" "Why is my steak pink inside?! I ordered it medium-rare!" "Any luck finding a real job?" "You must have a boyfriend by now, right?"
7. Move into my parents basement and fully embrace the arrested development "adult" life I've been living since moving home from Spain. Fast forward 30 years and I've replaced all real people in my life with four-legged friends (this plan should be a lot more terrifying than it actually is, sorry I'm not sorry). 

Hence, my current plan is to try each of these on for size, and chronicle how each one fits one-by-one. And hopefully, by the new year, I'll no longer be on the fast track to being a washed up Euro-tripper. Buena suerte (to me).

Nunca es adiós, siempre es hasta luego.

Well damn, Madrid, how do I begin.  What an unreal year.  I don't even know how to gather my thoughts to thank you for my time here, so I'll do the best I can in the only way I've ever really mastered: making a list.

1. I came to Madrid thinking that I was a completely solid person.  Someone who had experienced ups & downs, and discovered who they were in the process.  Well, no.  Wrong.  The emotions that I've felt in Spain have blown anything else out of the water.  The highs were chart topping.  The moments surrounded by friends who truly knew me, the nights that turned into mornings (cliche but true), the trips to new cities that opened my eyes in new ways... It all brought my to my knees with joy.  I was baffled by how incredible one city could make me feel. How at home I could be there.  But then... then there were the lows.  Being disconnected from family, friends, and my past when the unthinkable happened humbled me to no end.  Watching people hurt and not being able to help forced me to really dig into a part of me I hadn't met before.  The part of me that needed to ask for help.  Learning that I don't have to go-it-alone was one of the biggest lessons I've had to date.  Madrid, you bastard, you've made me emotional. Thank you.
2. I've always had great friends, but a number that I can probably count on one hand.  People who I've truly felt close to and comfortable with.  I grew to assume that this was just the type of person I was; someone who knew many but got close to few; someone guarded.  Then I moved to Madrid.  The people I've grown to love over the past year are honestly some of the best I've ever known.  They're strong, independent, caring, and appreciate the same things I do.  I can say that I'm leaving Spain with 10 new lifelong friends. You mujeres know who you are. Besos.
   
3. Having all of Europe at my fingertips is a privilege I've always dreamed of.  I've known the most expensive part of European travel is the flight from the states, and soon after arriving in Spain, I realized how inexpensive it really is to see the world.  It's as though the rest of the world understands the importance of travel and the US hasn't quite grasped it yet.  I can pay $200 for a round trip flight to D.C. plus whatever ungodly cost for hotel, or I can spend 40€ for a round trip flight to Portugal plus 20€ for two nights in a hostel, where I'll later make lifelong friends.  Not only the places I've been able to visit this year but the people I've had the privilege of meeting makes traveling that much more attractive.  My eyes have opened.
4. Living minimally is a new quality I'm finding myself adopting, and likewise something I now look for in others.  Not that I want to be able to drop everything and run away, but that I need to place the uttermost importance on my relationships and not on my belongings.  Starting from the day I started preparing for my trip to Spain until present, I've been gradually stripping myself of the need for material possessions.  When I no longer need something, I pass it onto a friend or donate it. Things weigh you down. In every aspect.  The nooks and crannies of my suitcases are filled with postcards and ticket stubs.  The boxes I have packed away in my parents basement for the last year aren't overflowing with random goods, but rather everything that represents the things I love; photos with friends, mugs from my favorite cafes that I've accidentally walked out with, figurines that once sat on the shelf at my grandparent's house.  If it doesn't have a place in my heart, then it has no place in my home.
   
5. Madrid, and my wonderful CEIP Antonio Hernandez, you have forced me out of my scheduled life.  I've been the queen of my planner for years now, and I've always found peace in knowing when things would happen and in the certain nature they would take place.  Whelp, out the window with that.  I've been tossed into an uncountable number of situations where thinking on my toes is the only option.  People don't work on a clock here, let alone a planner.  Showing up to school and learning that I'd be going on a field trip / subbing a class I've never had before / winging a full day of lessons / any other scenario became a norm.  Attempting to get banking or citizenship appointments done transformed into a gamble.  Meeting with my landlord over wine, chasing people through buildings, and showing up on time for a meeting that wouldn't be starting for another 30 minutes no longer shocked me.  Word of advice to anyone traveling to Spain: expect the unexpected, and throw a 30 minute buffer on anything you're trying to accomplish.
   
6. I've realized how important celebrating is this year.  This city has so much pride.  Be it gay pride (and wow, do they have a lot of it, especially in Malasaña), city pride (HALA MADRID!), fútbol pride, or personal pride, they take joy in all of it.  Everyone stops and soaks it in.  Doesn't matter the situation.  When I told my school that my sister was pregnant, the entire room stood still, waiting for details, beaming with excitement.  When I went out for Pride Week, no one was on their phones, everyone was laughing and embracing; enjoying the moment.  When Real Madrid or Atleticó de Madrid were playing, the young and old came out to sing in the streets.  Happiness truly is contagious. 

Over the past year, I've fallen head over heels with the world and the people in it.  The flow of life in Spain has slowed me down.  Given me time to stop and look around me more often; to breathe it all in.  An opportunity that most of us rush past on a daily basis.  Walking slowly down the street and listening to the chatter of people I've never met,  the hum of cars down cobblestone streets, the clinking of glasses, the bouncing of a ball in the playground near my apartment.  It's all so much more beautiful than we realize.  Simplicity is key here.  Learn to love the little things and the big things will fall into place.  The biggest pitfall of my year abroad is that it has come to a close, but, don't you dare think that my adventure has ended.  Just heading into the next one.

With a full heart, I pack my final boxes.  Next stop, being Aunt Molly. Te quiero Madrid, para siempre.

Ballin' on a Budget

Shocking news: I've started keeping track of my finances, and... drumroll... turns out it's totally affordable to live in Spain and travel heaps.  Honestly, if you had told me that before I moved here, I would've laughed.  On my salary? Really?! Well, when you start to break things down into what is necessary and what is supplementary, you can trim down expenses a lotttt.  I think I've had a tough time with this slim down in the past.  If I was sad and wanted to get my nails done or book a massage to feel better, I just would.  Living abroad, I find myself treating any emotion with travel or wine, which are somehow significantly cheaper therapy.  Happy? Go out for wine, its only 2€ for a glass anyways.  Sad? Book a trip. The anticipation of an adventure is perfect therapy.  Tired? Siesta with tapas on a rooftop somewhere while dreaming of your next trip.

So I've started tracking my money saving measures, either to reread later or pass onto fellow travelers.  Or maybe to ignite wonderlust in some of you readers who might be trying to trick yourself with the, "I can't afford it," excuse.

1. I can't speak to most cities, but in Madrid it is super easy to find housing that is both central and affordable.  For example, I live in a studio in the center center of my favorite Madrileño neighborhood for less than I paid to live in a house with roommates 10 minutes walking from the center of Portsmouth, NH.  No offense Portsmouth, I love you, but Madrid is fighting for first place in my heart.
2. Midweek is meant for potlucks, not going out to eat in restaurants. But should you want to go out midweek, make sure to head to one of the many bars that serves a free tapa with your drink.
3. Hostels are your friends, I PROMISE. I feel like they can tend to get a bad hype sometimes, but they can not only save you money but help you to feel out a new city and make new friends. I've made innumerable friends and gotten travel tips from the workers at hostels.  Yet to have a bad experience (fingers crossed).
   
4. Book flights at least 4 weeks in advance, but not much longer than that.  And peruse all of the cheap sites, their deals really are better.  www.cheapoair.com / www.skyskanner.com / www.studentuniverse.com
5. If you're traveling with a group, do all of the comparisons to see what's most affordable.  Renting a car might be better than a train, because price is split several ways.  Staying in an apartment saves you from having to pay to eat out every meal because you'll have your own kitchen (and you can get drunk in your very own living room!). Finding a good location can make all the difference when public transport is expensive and vice versa. And so on.
6. Do your research ahead of time.  Madrid has an amazing number of free events and activities to do, several museums even have a period of time when entry is free.  If you look into these options in advance, you'll be ready to hit the ground running.
7. Lastly, and most importantly, do as the locals do.  Being a tourist is expensive, locals, they've got it all figured out.  They live in these cities on a daily basis, so observe them.  Follow them into their favorite coffee shop or cafe, and you'll likely be surprised by the quality of the food and likely the service (ahem, free tapas). If you see all of the locals sitting in the park watching the sunset, join in, it's clearly something to be enjoyed. More or less, sit back and relax, there is no better way to soak it all in.

Ta-da! Now off to plan my next adventure!

It's ok to ask for help.

Living abroad has been (and continues to be) an ever changing adventure.  I find myself in awe most days of how lucky I am; how much my hard work has paid off. That being said, I hit a bit of a rough patch in December.  And it slowed me down. A lot. I found myself yearning for NH and my family, not only because I was homesick, but because I was accustomed to being able to lean on those close to me whenever I stumbled into a funk.  I've created a great friend circle here in Madrid, but they couldn't provide the same familiar comfort that I needed at the time.

I then made a conscious decision to lean exclusively on myself. I pushed people away, stayed in my apartment as often as I could, and counted down the days until I headed home for my holiday break. In a fragile state, I boarded my plane back to the states for a 2-week trip that I had presumed would be therapeutic. I had created an image in my head of a perfect oasis, and I was unprepared for the possibility of any alternative scenario. 

Unsurprisingly, life doesn't always come wrapped in a pretty package. Reality is not always organized, and 9 times out of 10, the things that happen to us and those we love don't make any sense. Upon reentry into my American life, I realized that the same demons I was fighting with in Madrid existed inside my old life as well, in my favorite cafes and bars, in my friendships, and even in my childhood home.  They weren't something that existed exclusively in external ways in Madrid, they were something that lived inside of me. 

Just a few days into being home, I learned of the tragic passing of my college boyfriend's father, a strong, caring, and seemingly indestructible man. I was hit with an unbelievably deep amount of sorrow for not just his passing, but for the empty place it was going to leave in his family's life. Combining this pain with an unexpected announcement from my sister, and with my own detrimental thoughts, I started to spiral. It quickly became clear that leaning exclusively on myself wouldn't keep me afloat. I returned to Madrid feeling lost.

Through and odd series of events, I found myself composing an email to a therapist in Madrid, asking for help. I felt silly when I walked into her office for the first time. Used to being able to handle everything myself, I entered denying that I needed help, and downplaying how hollow I was feeling. Within 20 minutes, I was crying so hard that I could no longer speak. I had spent so long trying to be my own hero, that I had become blind to the fact that it was ok to ask for help; it was normal to need guidance. It only makes us human to have ups and downs, and needing someone to lean on doesn't make us weak, it makes us honest.  Its been difficult to admit that I'm unable to stay afloat through every storm, but asking for help made me realize that if I ride the waves, they will eventually pass. 

I've been actively seeing a therapist for 2 months now, and though she can only listen and give advice, realizing I can admit my weaknesses has made me stronger.  I learned that the more I try to hide from my demons, the louder they get. Getting over the stigmas of therapy and the difficulty of opening up has been tough, but trying to pretend everything is ok when it isn't is tougher.  From a better, happier, healthier place, I can confidently say, it's ok to ask for help.

Running: Good for the Soul?

Learning to enjoy running has been a long and difficult process, that is no where near over.  After moving to Madrid, I quickly learned that regular skating would no longer be in my repertoire.  With every rink being a hefty commute away, and lacking time dedicated to figure skaters,  my first passion had to head to the back burner for a little while.  I've always found a certain peace while on the ice, especially during solo practice times, so I began to yearn for the same endorphin-rush inducing outlet.  Enter: running.

Now wait, pause, flashback...  What led me into a lower impact sport initially (yes, running... way less impact than skating), was a hip surgery I had almost a year ago now.  I had been abusing my body for years with too much high impact skating, and surgery became the last resort.  Recovery was a long journey, much more difficult than I could've ever imagined, but it opened my eyes to the idea of cross-training; the importance of treating our bodies well, and the benefits of doing so. During my recovery, I spent a lot of time strengthening my body with stretching, weights, bike riding, and eventually, running.  

Does this picture show off how happy I was at the time?

So, with a fixed up hip, an idea of how to treat my body, and a love for skating, I moved to Madrid, and found all three of these being compromised.  My hip killed from all of the walking and the lack of places to continue my physical therapy, I had no gym membership and limitless food & drink at my fingertips, and not a rink in sight that offered what I needed (time & proximity).  I knew that something had to give but I wasn't sure of what and where.

I had watched my father become a fantastic runner over the years, and had always been jealous of his dedication to it, especially because it could be done aaaanywhere.  So after a few weeks of dilly-dallying, I decided it was time to get started.  I did what any logical person would do, and signed up for a 10k that was 6 weeks away, without any training under my belt.  I quickly whipped myself into shape, and by the time I was a week out from race day, I found myself feeling somewhat prepared.  Each time I ran, I struggled through the first kilometer, and then I would kind of sink into a groove; into a place where my thoughts went silent and legs entered autopilot.  A place similar to what I would find on the ice.  Race day came, and I finished under my projected time, with a smile on my face.  I was pleasantly surprised with how good it felt to be part of something, like a race.  While still a solo sport, there's much more of a social component to running than skating has ever had.  I liked the quiet camaraderie and the unspoken connected as each kilometer ticked by.  I was ultimately shocked by how satisfying it all was.

Breaking a Guinness World Record in Madrid!

Madrid turned out to be the perfect place for running.  The winter climate settles around 45º at night, the city has a perfect pairing of hills and long stretches, and with headphones in and pounding feet, people don't tend to stop you for conversation on the street.  And even more perfectly, no matter how much it makes my legs burn and my chest pound, it makes my brain slow down.  At the end of the day, the hardest thing for me has always been to unwind, and rather than my favorite pastime of distracting myself, I'm finding much more comfort in becoming at peace with myself.  So, as a toootally sane person (haha..) I've somehow signed myself up for another 10k in 8 weeks and a 1/2 marathon in 12 weeks.  Let's go!

Things to Stop Doing in 2015

1. Creating hangovers that require a full day recovery (see above)
2. Dwelling (on situations, people, and... that text message I got at 3am, wtf did that mean?!)
3. Feeling guilty for doing things that make me happy
4. Self-medicating with Netflix and red wine
5. Thinking I'm invincible
6. Assuming I'll find a meaningful relationship on tinder
7. Starting books and not finishing them
8. Waiting to do my laundry until its an emergency
9. Lacking an understanding of how many (unfinished) to-do lists limits too many
10. Spending all day and night fantasizing about cheez-its (because they are my guilty pleasure and I won't have them again for sooo lonnnggggg)
11. Procrastinating on nearly everything, especially updating this blog

On Going "Home"

There is something special about returning to the roost after months away.  Getting to relive your old routines, seeing friendly faces, being able to sink back into your comfort zone… The list goes on.  I've experienced this feeling several times now, whether it was returning from college, my study abroad to Barcelona, or my more recent 2013 Euro-trip. This time has felt different though, because it is all so t e m p o r a r y.  Yeah, I got a long two weeks of friends, family, and various people from my past, but I've had to physically hold myself back from acclimating to my life in the US.  I've been straining myself to not become too comfortable, because I've known that I am going back to Madrid in a short matter of time, and for much longer this go around.  Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Madrid, but it doesn't have the same qualities of the home I've known for so many years.  I'm sure that given enough time, it would blossom into the homey place I've been craving, but for the time being, it still feels kinda foreign.

So here I am, 5 hours from leaving for the airport, and I feel uneasy.  Not because I'm unhappy about going back to Madrid or that I feel I have more to accomplish in NH, but because I don't know how I feel about abandoning this "homey" feeling. I know all the sayings, "life begins at the end of your comfort zone," yadda yadda yadda.  I get it.  If you're not willing to let yourself feel uneasy, you'll never grow, but being too uneasy can be stunting too.

A lot has changed since I returned home almost two weeks ago.  I celebrated Christmas (among other things…) with my family, I rang in a new year with old friends, I reconnected with my college sweetheart (under circumstances that I wish could have been better), and I gave endless hugs that probably lasted too long to people I have grown to love over the past several years.  This time tomorrow I'll be back in Madrid with my hodge-podge of a Spanish family planning what we will take on over the next 6 months.  I'll be breaking the news that my plan has changed and I will only be spending one year abroad, instead of the two (or infinity) I had previously thought about.  I'll get back into the classroom with the students that I've grown so fond of over the past few months. And hopefully, I'll be starting to become proficient in god damn Spanish. 

I know that once I get back to Spain I'll remember how much I missed it, and I'll settle into my groove of working and exploring.  I know that spending the next 6 months wandering through Europe will be freeing and will open my eyes to the beauties of the world, but I can't deny that I won't miss my little po-dunk town in good ol' New Hampshire.  Sure, New Hampshire isn't home to centuries old impressionist artists, the blue city blocks of Chefchaouen, or the natural springs of Budapest, but it has some of the best people I've even known, and for me, thats all I'll ever need.